It’s the wee hours of the morning and once again…..I am awake. I mean wide awake. Come to think about it, I have been for a while, but have recently decided to sneak out of bed ensuring to not awake my husband. I’m starting to get good at it….So I think. I creep downstairs into my chaise or recliner, plug up my laptop, make a cup of tea, but first, I usually go check on Erilyn who is usually sprawled about her crib at the opposite end of the bed where we tucked her in. Now don’t judge me, but I still have a habit of checking to see if she’s breathing. I have been doing this since they removed her from the monitors in the NICU two years ago. One of the main reasons outside of my irrational fear; is that though she’s sprawled all OVER the bed she looks so innocent….so at peace. At part of this makes me smile deep within; the other side makes me envious. I am usually having a fitful night, and I am talking pre-pregnancy.
It’s in those wee hours in the world, where I am alone in my shell that I have been thinking about working on my second novel. A novel that will explore being a wife, mommy, and career woman with a mental health diagnosis. So far, I haven’t gotten that far. It seems lately, I have been very few with my words which is SO not me LOL. I am usually plagued with random thoughts….then I get side tracked because I feel……I dunno.
One thing about being medicated is that the medications are usually very potent. I used to be on meds that would knock me out before my head on the pillow, and yet there was no resting. As I sit and ponder, I believe the reasoning is because my mind still has pockets of emptiness. Since becoming a mother, I have been revisiting my childhood often. I have no idea why, but for the most part the visions I am able to conjure up aren’t blissful, and the other times there are pockets of blankness. It is not uncommon for one to purposefully yet ignorantly block out huge chunks of life in order to function.
I have never used my blog platform to “air out” the drama and trauma of my childhood simply because it’s not the appropriate place (by the way….when is?) And right now, I am anti-psychologist. I haven’t found the right one. For one, choosing someone to pour out your soul is hard. I compare it to the equivalent of dating in Atlanta…..you gotta be uber lucky. Especially things you aren’t quite sure if you are able and/or ready to divulge. I must admit that I have this nagging feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that makes me feel off balance. I don’t feel leveled….and everyone who knows me knows that this is very uncomfortable phase for me.
I believe that the reason why I am so fixated on digging up these feelings and exploring why I feel the way I feel is because I don’t want to carry that onto my daughters. Also, because I have always been a reflective person. I’m a believer that children soak up everything from their parents. Not just behaviors, but those spiritual vibes. My parenting style is that of “I wanna do things different….I want to break the generational curse.” Of course due to my bout with post-partum I kinda got a late start on the nurturing piece and I STILL beat myself up for it. Weird thing is now that I am uber focused on mommyhood….my toddler is so independent (wonder where she got that from *sarcastic voice*), vocal, stubborn, and has a mind of her own. Simply put, I went without appropriate nurturing as a child, and I am deathly afraid that she is seeking it from others….just like I did. Now for one, I know this to not be true because we have our times, we have our secret language, and most importantly I tell I her I love her and believe in her every second I can. See, this is what I am talking about…..projecting my past onto my child unbeknownst to her and sometimes myself.
So, where in the world am I going with this blog? I don’t rightfully know; however, I felt the need to unload. I can remember when I first started blogging and I was just figuring out bipolar and what it looks like to me. I can vividly remember feeling just like this, but instead I was ANGRY. I was angry for the right reasons, but I can see things differently now. In fact, when I think about it I am rarely angry. I get frustrated, but am able to talk it out with someone close. But mainly, due to being baseline, I am very thoughtful and aware of my actions and the consequences that will follow. I also tend to pray more and ask God to please…..heal my heart. But how can you move on and heal fully when the person involved does not acknowledge that the hurt actually occurred? How can you get peace of mind from things said and done to you without the closure needed to fully walk away with a healed heart? For the record, I have figured this out when it came to moving on from past relationships. I knew that most of them wouldn’t admit to wrong doing and apologize. But I also must admit that most have apologized at some point….maybe that’s why I have been able to fully walk away into my destiny.
Maybe I will put it into words….to that person. Writing is like the window to my soul. Nothing in my soul derives from malice, but there has been a dark place that I have ignored most of my life. Not dark as in evil, but dark as in a bruised and/or dark area because there is no adequate blood flow. There is no light to allow the bamboo planted in my soul to grow. Ultimately my lovely readers, these are the things that I am trying to gather up and put into my lil bag. You know that bag that you pick up just to run to the store to get that ONE ingredient to complete your meal? The bag that matches nothing, has no real contents, but is heavy as hell for no real reason….Well I have decided with my husband to no longer pick up that bag just because its comfortable. He has charged me to fill the bag with other useless items that I have yet to purge due to me being…oblivious or because I have been caught up with everything else. So far, I have been accumulating a lot of random baggage and hurt into that raggedy bag. My goal is to destroy that bag when the time is right so I don’t get the urge to pick up the familiar. I am hoping to complete this short term goal before my baby love Eriane gets here. After all, I won’t have time to hold her, hold Erilyn’s hand to guide her, and the energy to continue to merge my heart with the love of my life.
So, this blog is a declaration to say Good bye to the beautiful bag lady….and hello to the regal Redemption Queen.