Thoughts for tonight

Jeez, I'm in a funny mood still. I read that letting out your negativity is a good thing. So that made me feel better. Before I read that I was feeling so much internal conflict. I am always so happy, smiling, positive and optimistic. I always live in my dreams and my hopes... I always think about what I am working toward and I try not spend too much time on my now (cuz it makes me unhappy) and the past. I focus on my dreams and future as much as I can. It makes me feel excited and inspired. I get this amazing feeling... Do you know what I mean?? That feeling of a dream, its kinda like an internal sparkle... To me anyways...

So when I get in these funny writing moods I was almost feeling something like guilty. Guilty for going against my usual self. Like a split personality I guess. Its like on the outside I'm one thing, and on the inside there is so much darkness, so much pain. And I have spent so long supressing it, pushing it down, fighting it, trying to forget it. And then every now and then it springs up and I feel all the emotions and sensations surrounding it. Sometimes its pain, sometimes its rage, sometime its hatred, psycho, madness, heartbreak. And it feels like "who is this imposter inside of me?" cuz I know that I am not her.

I am one thing. This alter ego is another. Its the dark side that writes the best stuff. The stuff that is written from torture, from violence, from pain, from heartbreak, from abuse, from shattered dreams, my broken family, my life... That is the stuff that seems have the hardest hitting words. Whenever I read my old writing, I can feel it. I can see it. Some days it brings tears to my eyes.

And that is what I am going to write tonight. I am going to write the story that this morning made me catch my breath. This morning when I was in the shower it came back, like its haunting me... Its almost been a year, almost to the day. And today it came back, I could feel it. My heart started pounding, I had this feeling, how to describe it? It starts in my chest, my heart feels like it wants to beat through my chest, it starts racing, my insides feel like they are hot, and ready to burst. It is behind my eyes, ready to explode. It is in my stomach, it feels almost black, it almost feels like metal or something cold and hard but at the same time liquid? No sense. Like a big black hole or something like a tornado going around inside of me?? Trying to explain this feeling that I feel is so hard... Maybe this will help

Its Monday, 22nd June, 2009. I am at home in Papamoa, with my two kids. I had left their Dad only six or so weeks earlier. I had found out a couple of weeks ago that he had already moved on. With a girl that had been going out with one of his friends. She had been texting my baby's daddy while we were still a family, and she was still with her man. She used to cheat on that guy a bit from what I have been told. I know she was texting him because I managed to catch her out... Then she tried to deny it, but left my babys dad alone. It must've been only a couple of weeks after I left that she was outta her relationship and all over my kids dad...

That wasn't the pain. The pain was my kids. My lil boy had just turned two, my lil girl was only 5 and a bit months old. She was still so little. And the kids had been keeping me up at night. Their dad didn't want to know about it. Didn't even seem to care all that much. I rang him up that night, and was so angry, I hated him for letting our family end that way. I was giving him a piece of my mind. He didn't even care.

I was so angry. He was living in MY HOUSE, because I was too nice (his mum didn't want him at hers, he had no job so had nowhere else to go) and I only asked he paid the power bill... And I set down the rules, there was to be no friend by the name of RISK going there, and no bitches... My stuff was still there, I was waiting for him to move out so I could move back.

In this phone call he hung up on me, and turned off the phone. I was absolutely wild. I don't get angry, so it was out of character for me. I was simply trying to get him to look after the kids every second weekend so I could have a break, he didn't want to hear. After that I decided I would drive to my house and give him my thoughts to his face. I needed to have it out for once and for all. I needed to scream at him. I needed him to hear my anger... Mum wouldn't let me go that night, so first thing next morning, I left Pap for vegas... It was 7am...

I got to vegas, my house about 8am. Pulled up the driveway. Everything was quiet, no extra cars. I calmed down a bit (right now my insides are pounding, like I was there, almost shaking) thinking yeah, hopefully its just him there.

I let myself in the door. Walked into the lounge (thats where he had been sleeping on his mattress because it was my bed in my room), and found RISK, and another piece of shit that I didn't want in my house asleep on my babys daddys mattress. My heart really started pounding then. I was absolutely off the meter... CRAZY WILD. I couldn't have prepared myself for what was about to happen, the possibility of what followed never even crossed my mind...

I flew into my room, ripped off my duvet ready to launch into a screaming match about why those crack heads were in my lounge, and wow, there she was, in my bed. How did I not pick up on that BEFORE walking in there (my insides are actually shaking now, on verge of tears as I write, I'm there)??? I don't even know what happened after that... I know I was ready to start screaming at him about why the fuck couldn't he just look after the kids once in a while, why the fuck did he have to have those crack heads as mates, when was he going to be a man and take some responsibility for his kids, but I was in shock. I came back to reality and I was straddling him punching him in the head with one hand and trying to rip her g string with the other. I was thinking to myself "that fucking bitch is going to walk down the main road in nothing but torn underwear", and "this fucking mongrel, knew he was low, never could've believed he would go that low"... I don't remember really caring that he was with her, just I remember saying "if you wanted to fuck that slut, why the fuck didn't you do it in your car, or a cardboard box or on the side of the fucking road, NOT IN MY BED YOU FUCKING SHIT"... I was thinking to myself they will all just leave... I wasn't really thinking that I was in a house filled with gang members who were regular crack heads that could pick me up with one hand and put me where ever without any trouble (I'm a tiny thing, weigh 50kg (just) and only 165cms, he is the opposite... MASSIVE).

So I was punching the shit out of his head (this is the FIRST time I have ever hit anyone) and he was just picking me up carrying me off, expecting me to stop. I jumped as hard as I could on his foot, shoulda thought to smash him in the dick the fucker (but then I subconciously wouldve expected to get a hit back if I did that, so that is probably why I didn't). He was trying to drag me through the house. Every time we went through a door frame I clutched onto it with my hands and feet. Held on. At some stage I noticed there was blood on the walls... It was only then I realised it was from my hands, I was still clutching my keys, so hard my skin was bleeding. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, it woulda sounded like murder...

He finally got me in the kitchen. I was shaking, screaming, crying, completely out of control. Absolutely beyond anything I had ever been before. And he was shoving me around trying to get me out of the house. I wasn't moving. His mates had woken up by that stage and they were yelling out to him not to hurt me (they had been there, done that with male assaults female charges before) but they wouldn't come near.

I remember looking into his eyes, and they were just pools of black, they had been on the fries... DEFINATELY. I guess that realisation was what made me a lil bit more nervous. I know how psycho crack can make people. I think some reality started to kick in. I started to realise I wasn't going to win if I kept fighting. A knife (sharp one) dropped from me banging into the fridge, it had been sitting on a ledge by the fridge. We both stopped for a 100th of a second, we both looked at it, we both read the others mind. I wanted it because I didn't want to be stabbed. He wanted it cuz he didn't want me to stab him (not that I would've cuz I was crazy, but not that crazy). He won. He got it. I think about then a bit of fear crept in. I started to assess my options. I wasn't leaving empty handed.

I looked to the door. In the back of the lock were his keys. His keys to his precious mercedes (old school gangsta ride)... Without a seconds thought I sprinted to the door pulled the keys out and jumped into my car. I had to lock it with my car alarm cuz central locking had gone and he was coming at me like he wanted to kill me. So I was driving in reverse, steering locked, till I just about hit the gate, un-alarmed the car to straighten up for a second, re locked the car and reversed back some more, almost hitting a wall this time (driving enraged while a car is steering locked is really not advisable), and repeating my unlock straighten process, reversing as fast as I could to the top of the driveway, then unlocked the car and was straight out onto the road. It was about two seconds down the road, shaking, that I realised my hand was sore. Broken.

So I went to a friends place. Rang my ex sis in law, and she sent her man (kids uncle) down to sort my babys daddy out. It was the most crazy day of my life...

Physically I was ok, except for the broken hand (broke it in three places). Turns out my fragile lil hands aren't for fighting (I knew that all along, its why I left, I was never going to be able to fight him back). Mentally, traumatised I guess.

I didn't sleep for ten days after that. I was absolutely shocked. I hate it that all that emotion happens when it pops up. I guess I never really dealt with it. I didn't have a chance to. I just had to be strong for my kids. Put on a happy face. Carry on. Which I did.

What is my point of this? No idea. I have no idea how to make those feelings go away. I don't want to remember this. I don't want to see this morning played out ever. Because when it creeps up on me, it makes my heart race, pound. It makes my insides go all weird. Something like anxiety i guess? It feels like my insides are vibrating something horrible. And I don't like that feeling at all...

I much prefer the happy vibrations I get when I am working on something hopeful, fantastic. But those words don't make people stop. Those words don't make peoples skin prickle. Those words won't make eyes prickle and well up. Those words can't make people cry.

I guess thats what I can't understand yet. My words do this, make people feel this emotion, like they are there (well some of the time anyways) and I like the feeling that my words are so powerful that they evoke emotion. But I can't put my finger on it, why do I feel like my writing is a success when I get reactions like those?? Why do I feel like my writing is more powerful when it is hitting something so hard that people have tears??

Well I guess part of it is because I love feeling the emotion behind words. I guess it is because when I hear a song that is written from the heart it makes my skin prickle, my eyes prickle or well up and sometimes (not often) I cry. I have this hard as fuck wall I keep up, day in, day out. Don't like people seeing me down or crying. I never complain about my life, always praise it, always grateful to it, I always look at the positives. And when something repeatedly gets me down, I do something to change it. This blog is the start of something for me. It is me trying to bring my walls down. To open myself up to the world...

I guess I am branching out. I want my story in music I think. I want my words to evoke emotion. I'm not musically talented myself... But hopefully someone somewhere will like where I'm going with this and then maybe a song will be written, using some of my words, and hopefully it will be one of those ones that are so powerful people feel it... My biggest musical inspirations are 2pac (some of his music is written to me, not literally, but the person/people who live my life or something like it) and eminem (he knows who he is, he speaks his truths and is fearless of what the critics say, I admire this because I aspire to someday achieve that fearlessness). Obviously I love a whole lot of others, but I guess I love the real stuff the most. The dissing and the bullshit is just same old. In NZ Smashproof did a song Brother, it topped NZ charts for ages... I think the reason why is because it was so close to home... it touched so many in personal ways... Maybe I'm wrong though. I do look at things in very different ways to most people... I call myself different from everyone else. I just am. I am the shooting star. I fly off into space in my daydreams... I've always felt alone, there is noone on the same planet as me... I'm ok with that... But I live in hope, that I will someday find a whole bunch of shooting stars, people that touch the sky, touch hearts, and can understand me...

WOW, huge amount of thoughts tonight... So its nearly 11pm in NZ... I best get to bed... Hopefully after that big write I wont be kept awake by my thoughts, hopefully my mind will feel a bit lighter, and hopefully some of that trauma will have eased... I guess this is the test. Wish I could ask eminem if all his writing made him feel any better... Hahaha... Maybe one day I will. :)