Asking for a Re-Blog

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Mister Misery

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It wasn’t all bad all the time growing up with these men, there were moments with them that meant everything to me… the moments where certain things are said or certain things are done that had appeared to be genuine confused me because prior to that they couldn’t stop being violent or cutting us children down..

The moments were the talking is rational and their behavior is normal had me wondering if this is who they really are and if it was why would they try so hard to hide this person… but i also wondered if how they were acting was even real and how hard they had to pretend to be that nice… i couldn’t tell… because for so long prior to those moments they were mean, violent and couldn’t get enough of degrading our mother to us… maybe they thought that a rarely given moment like that we would overlook everything they had done just moments before… maybe they thought that their nice words or nice way of talking we would overlook all their cut downs.. i wondered how hard it was for them to be that nice and that if at some point they couldn’t handle the fact that there being so nice so they went back to their usual self…

Did it bother them seeing other people happy? happiness and chaos seemed to dictated by the men of the house… if things were running to smooth they didn’t hesitate to shake it up a bit… maybe they’re addicted to the chaos…

The thing is they were apart of my “childhood” all the bad and the moments of it being okay, I never wondered why they did certain things because what are the chances of getting an honest and genuine answer let alone them owning up to what they did… i did wonder if they wanted to be a better person but just couldn’t because being a better person was to difficult for them, maybe they were comfortable being completely miserable… perhaps the statement “misery loves company” couldn’t be more true… maybe the fact you hold on in hopes to see them change, be better or be nicer because they show you just that in those rarely given moments.. that might be their key to how “misery keeps its company”….

 

Behavioral Improv’s

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A couple years ago when my youngest brother was like 3 or 4, i remember watching him searching for this outfit and not giving up till he found it, when he found it there was serious focus in putting it on and once he put on his black spider man mask to complete the outfit, he went right into character without even trying.. I let my mind drift back to his age and the moments when i could convince myself i could be anyone i wanted….

my first time watching “Harriet the spy” i completely thought i was a little spy myself and once i had all those things that i believed to make me a spy, i was completely convinced, i even took notes from blues clues to become a better spy.. Being raised by women i was completely mesmerized by Their long dark hair and all the colored heels they wore, the different colored strings, the bra’s, the purses, nylons, jewelry, tight spandex, glitter and all the layers of make up they spent so much time putting on, as a little boy that was another character i convinced myself i could be and having a little sister who liked to play dress up was perfect, between the barbie dolls and the women in our lives it inspired the make up we wore down to the heels we picked out… i could go right from that into a full blown construction worker… maybe being a gemini made it even more so easier…

I realize that i didn’t lose that side to me right away and it would serve me as long as i needed it… when i was older and certain things took place i felt i needed to “pretend” like everything was all right around everyone… what took place when no one was around and behind closed doors that left me feeling broken and altered but as soon as i got in front of someone or walked back through that door i went right back into “pretending” like i was happy and fine.. I could fool most, but i realized it only added to the fact that i remained lost and untrue to myself. The things i pretended i had found comfort in…  i started thinking about the fact that as children we can go into being someone else and pretending certain things to be true even though they’re not…

I am sure everyone has there reason for pretending to be okay or alright, i remember when i was younger seeing my mother cry and when i asked her if she was alright she would say “everything was fine” as she wiped her eyes, her pretending to be okay so i wouldn’t worry… some people can pretend so well no one would ever guess there is something wrong, i noticed though there are people who can see right through the fact your pretending… but how long could you really pretend for, at some point even an actor gets burnt out… i became exhausted and tired in pretending certain things, i found myself looking back on my life and the process of becoming true to who i was began to take place..

Coming to terms with my past i didn’t find it necessary to continue pretending with certain things, and i found this Real me character far more fascinating than anything i pretended to be…

Imprinted Memories

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When i was in middle school i was completely rebellious and rowdy, got in trouble Alot, frequent fights and poor choices probably was my form of release from the things that were taking place but in doing that it gave me a couple trips to behavior school and then a moment of standing before a judge… before i walked in my attorney tells me “the judge is pushing for you to do jail time so when you get in their do not smile do not frown and answer her yes ma’am no ma’am”, she was obviously in a pissed off mood and my hearing didn’t make her anymore happy… i walked in and shot down everything inside of me so i wouldn’t bring attention to myself exactly like my attorney had said to do, little did he know i was completely accustomed to acting like that, i did it all the time…

I had around 140 hrs of community service to do, all of which i did at the elementary school down the street, one of the nights there i had finished up and my beeper beeped with a message from my “step-dad” that read “i will pick you up after your done, be in front of the school”… after i was done around maybe 9’oclock i got out and looked for his jaguar, but the night was eerily quiet, it started to make me nervous and after waiting a few minutes i thought perhaps he didn’t see me so i decided to walk up a little ways to where their was more light so it would be easier for him to spot me, he eventually found me and after i got in and closed the door he freaked out because i wasn’t in front of the school like he said, he must have thought i couldn’t hear him screaming so he lowered the already low sounding music, he turned to look at me and once he saw his yelling wasn’t affecting me he took his right hand off the steering wheel and without hesitation swung the back of his hand into my chest in a fit of rage for the duration of the red light, the light turned green which was probably the go ahead for him to stop and he was completely winded it took him a minute to catch his breathe.. The silence in the car was more deafening than his yelling… I was already in shock by the whole thing but when he said “If you say Anything to your mother it will be 10 times worse” it made me even more freaked out… as i walked into the house completely unfazed by what had just taken place,  i saw my mother and i put my head down and walked up the stairs and she asked if everything is okay and my “step-father” answered for me and said yeah he is fine he’s just tired…

All these years later, i began speaking through my silence and in telling my mother about it, i felt as if i had completely re-opened that memory… that moment played so clear for me, i can still hear how quiet it got after it settled down, i can still feel the impact of the back of his hand against my chest or the thud it made as he hit my chest… i feel like those moments of shock are imprinted into your memory and reserved for a later time when your ready to come to terms with things….

In settling things within myself that memory opened up to me, and while i realize that the “why’s” are rarely met with an answer, and the i am sorry are rarely genuine if they are even given at all…. As i let the memory play for me, i gave it back to him because i am sure if it played that clear for me it would play that clear for him and in seeing, hearing and feeling what i felt maybe he then would realize what he put me through….

After all, that was his memory he left imprinted on me…..

Dynamic Walls

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In understanding myself i went back as early as my mind would allow me, to my first taste of what it felt like to be hurt…

my inner child started piecing together this place that would provide a sense of security and keep everyone out, i could see it as a whole, and i could see it in it’s earliest stages of taking it’s form… i could see his confidence in the fact he knew what he was building and the purpose it would serve me, life didn’t seem to stop handing him bricks, which worked for him because he wanted it multiple bricks thick and high enough to reach the heavens, something so you couldn’t tell what was going on and no one could breakdown… This child stood back and excitedly acknowledged this wall he built… he realized that while it is invisible to the eye, it would be felt and serve a purpose only to be recognized and understood later on in life.. knowing he had shut everyone out he created worlds all his own, in his own way so he wouldn’t feel alone.. he included and excluded anything and everything he wanted…

Recently i started acknowledging these walls i built… i saw the magnitude of it, i saw how teddy protected himself from the things that happened and all the future things that would take place… he couldn’t do it psychically but he could emotionally… i see that when things take place as a child the walls go under immediate construction to provide some kind of shelter or safe place within… the walls had kept everyone out for so long that no one knew me, knew how i felt or knew what was going.. the walls seemed to intensify under certain situations i feel like they took on a life of their own or perhaps that’s how i designed them…

when i was a little older the youngest of my uncles gave me “The wall” by pink Floyd and i was completely fascinated by the movie and the album… Sometimes things are handed to you in life to help you make sense of certain things if not now then later on in life…

as I began to understand myself i saw and understood these these walls more clearly, i saw how my life revolved around building these walls and instead of tearing it apart i would leave it up but i created a door into it and instead of keeping everyone out, i let certain people in….

there’s something powerful about your walls, although you can build it willingly, life will put them up for you automatically…

Martha

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In 9th grade i was told to go to the supply room to grab what we needed for the class.. when i walked in i gave her the list and she said “hi teddy, do you remember me”, i shuffled through my memories but she wasn’t at all familiar and before i could tell her that she said “i watched you and your siblings when you were children”, i then remembered who she was…

i made it a point to stop by as often as i could to see how she was doing from that moment forward…when things were at there worst around the house and not having no one to turn to, the fact she asked how i was and if i was alright meant the world to me.. I never opened up and said what was going on but she seemed to tell when something was bothering me because she had random comments like “everything is going to be okay teddy”… without me telling her anything there was something about her that would calm all my emotions there was something beyond comforting about her..

She asked me if i could do this or that for her whenever i stopped by her class, i told her i would and that i didn’t mind and she would tell me things like thank you *i am just to tired, *that she couldn’t keep up with the things she had to do *that she wanted to lay down… and after i helped her she asked if i would walk her out, locking arms so i could help her walk.. one of the times i walked her out of her room she fell, luckily she was locked in my arm so i broke her fall, for the most part atleast, as i helped her up she said thankfully your here to help me i asked if she was okay and she told me she was gonna go home because *she was tired…

i can’t recall the time frame but after a while of my frequent stops to see how she was, the door was locked… after so many times of knocking on a locked door i stopped all together, while i thought it was odd, i didn’t think much of it i just assumed she was busy….

after what might have been a few months of not seeing her i was told she passed away…she said someone filled a missing person report and that they found her in where she was living.. she fell in her apartment right in front of her door face down… they said it was almost 2 weeks before anyone found her…

as with everything else in my life that bothered me i buried it, and refused to acknowledge it……….

so many years have passed without thinking of her up until i get a comment on a post and noticed how familiar her name was… she shared the same name of my friend who passed

feeling her presence lately my mother confirmed it in saying that she was here..

i realize that even though i didn’t think about her all that much, that she had been with me, and will continue to always be with me..

 

 

 

 

 

 

interpreting scriptures

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My mother didn’t believe in pushing religion on us or shoving god down our throat, she instead let us pick and choose whatever it is we wanted to believe in and would back us regardless of belief… my real grandfather on the other hand spoke to us every chance he could about the bible and being catholic… if it were not for his devotion and complete faith towards god perhaps i would not have seen the “god complex” that certain people in my life held..

Being told i would not enter the gates of heaven unless i was baptized, or that i should go out of my way to find my “real dad” because it’s the commandment, being told i needed to confess my sins, or that i would be going to hell because i am catholic and the brown scapular i wore was insulting to god or that i would be damned to hell if i wasn’t saved along with so many other things, were it wasn’t about just talking about the bible to me it was more like these people felt as if they had that power to judge and damn people to hell as if they were god him self… some where along the lines of learning the bible they developed a god complex….

i am aware of the verse we are all made in his likeness, but i am not aware of any scriptures that say people hold that power to damn others to hell… being told you needed to be saved or if i did anything wrong in life you would burn in hell is one thing and therefore their distorted translation of scriptures gave me this idea that god is unforgiving and merciless, but once i started to read the bible i saw they failed to mention the fact that god is a compassionate and forgiving god…

i let people express their views on the bible but i saw in that expressing how they view bible it was simply their interpretation of the bible and instead of taking their word for it i began to look it up for myself… my real grandfather in reciting scriptures gets pissed off at the devil and never fails to say “GODDAMN THE DEVIL” eventually my mother had enough of that and tells him to not take the lords name in vain at all around her and his reply to that is “i feel like god gives me that right to use his name in vain”… i have yet to come across a scripture that says under any circumstance taking his name in vain is alright. or another person who is told that a scripture states “if god be for you who can be against you” and he interpreted that as “if you are not for me, then you are against me”, obviously everyone interprets scriptures differently but life has shown me some who feel as if they are god him self…

just because you claim to understand the bible doesn’t make you god, or having made mass and getting those jesus wafers and a sip of wine doesn’t make you superior to anyone else, and not one church is more holier and more worthy of heaven than another …              after all isn’t it the same god we all acknowledge?

The bible offers so many different things to people, but i wouldn’t have thought it would have been a means to inflate peoples ego and give them a “god complex”

To see and hear people feel superior to god to the point where they feel they are god is awful and i am sure that in it being written there wasn’t the intention for making you feel like it’s to twist and distort in ways that work and only apply to yourself…