So before I got in my car and drove down the road and got side tracked, I was starting to write some really deep stuff... and it wasn't the usual dark stuff too :)
I have been reading some books, Conversations with God, finished the first book, am halfway through the second. This stuff has really hit me. My family was never religious and didn't really force anything on me, so I just believed in what came naturally. Which is great in a lot of ways because I came to the belief that there is a God, and yes, He would be inside of me, and instinctively this was enough.
I was a believer in the sense that, my God, that I created for myself, didn't worry too much if I didn't go to church, wasn't baptised, didn't mind that I hadn't read the bible and wouldn't send me to Hell because I have a good heart. I firmly believed that God was the type of guy that believed in forgiveness, and I didn't really think anything I could ever do would be bad enough to justify Hell.
So I read these books, and they spoke words to me that I have known to be my truth my whole life. The first book clarified a lot for me... I guess it enforces my self belief. And gave me a bit of direction. It confirmed what I have known all along, and now I just trust myself even more than I already did...
The second book, which I am reading now, is what has really been hitting me hard today... Now for the crazy stuff...
Ever since I was pretty small, I've always felt different. I never really fitted in anywhere. I had lots of friends, but none that were really close. You know how, at school, there are always groups and you are usually in one group, or another? Well I was that girl that didn't belong to any particular group, I just went between them. I was the one that was with one group some days, another other days and another on other days. If someone was out cast from their group, there was me to look after them, and when I was being outed from one lot, I still had a bunch of others who knew the truth about me...
I didn't ever really analyse it back then, its just how I was. I didn't care. I didn't get sad about it. I was the nice girl. The one who didn't really like gossip. The one who didn't talk nasty about everyone else. I was the girl who just was.
When I was at tech, I met some more people, and found a really good friend, still my best friend now. And it was he that pointed me in the direction of who I am becoming. He pointed out my qualities, my talent. That I am the most caring, kind person, that I always want to help, everyone, no matter what. That I like to help people. He also told me he felt that I was destined for something really big.
And I believed him. Within myself I have always believed I was destined for great things. Things I want, I get. If I put it out to the universe, to God, he always delivers. I am blessed. Extremely lucky. I know the power of my mind. I have complete control over what I am given.
So when I was soul searching, I looked for the ones I admire, who do I aspire to be like. And I'm extremely drawn to Mother Theresa, Princess Diana types. I know I want to help. I want to help as many as I can. I know I want to help families, I want to help mothers of young children who have suffered from abuse, or need to get away from a father who might be on drugs, dealing or involved with gangs. I want to help those innocent kids. I want to be helping stop child abuse and poverty. I want to make an impact. I looked at Helen Clark, all that she achieved. And David Lange, and thought many times about going into politics. The only thing that stopped me was people saying to me I wouldn't be able to stop the corruption, the lies, the childish bullshit that goes on in there. That maybe it would take over me, maybe I would become that... So I didn't walk that path. Even though I felt like I wanted to be in a powerful position so I could make an impact.
I want to do so much, and I have been thinking HOW? I thought about money. If I wasn't a DPB mum I'd be out there giving money to everything. Started working on my business. I figured if I could just make enough to break into the big money, then I could start working on my little dreams (which are still HUGE) and then maybe it'd roll into bigger things. I aspired to be like Richard Branson, or Bill Gates, using my money to help people and create things that would help others to help themselves... Wow, what a task I set for myself. I want to be a billionaire... Scratch that, I am GOING to be a billionaire. And I am GOING to help these people... Now I know a bit about the how.
Do you believe in God? If yes, and if you have an open mind, then you should really start reading these books... because surely there has to be hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands, at least, like me? Surely. And if there is then we will be able to make Gods dream a reality. Yeah the second book is extreme... I haven't even finished it yet. But I am already on a mission to find the ones out there that have a mind like mine and are clever enough to work toward implementing something like this... Honestly, I don't know ALL the answers. Yet. But I am bypassing all the littles here. I want to go straight to the big stuff.
I want to change the world. I want to make it a better place. I want to see peace happen in this lifetime. It can happen. I refuse to believe the word "can't". There is no such thing to me. I realise that I may not be able to solve the worlds issues... But by getting as many people on the same page, we are half way there. If everyone thought the way I did, then half the problems would disappear... If even half the world thought this way then so much of the devestation would disappear. Its a movement of thinking, a universal movement. I have some of my hows... Im jotting them down as I go through these books.
And then I am going to start putting it out there. I am going to try to connect with those inspirational people that can help change peoples opinions, people that other people follow and admire. People that the majority look toward for direction and what is right. There are so many of them out there. If I can find the right ones... I think there are some, I am thinking that Barack Obama would potentially listen, and that would help. Helen, and I will have to research other international leaders... Then there would be musicians, who are so important. They spread word through their music. The impact that is felt amongst people through those words are things that make people FEEL. And there are artists out there with passion to change the way the world is. People look to these celebrities for direction, for what is right, what is the truth. Then there are people who have read this book. There are some that have taken these words from God and used them to their own benefit, which is fine, thats part of their experience. But there are others, like me, hit to the core, with the knowledge that this is a part of my destiny.
Now I probably sound like I am the one that was on that crack right?? I wonder if I sound absolutely insane... But I actually don't care. Because there will be those that will judge me for being a broken ass DPB mum and saying stuff like this and they will be sitting there dissing this, saying stuff like "she can't do that, she can barely support her family"... and those people don't worry me at all... because those are the people that are sitting there, worrying about themselves, and not looking at the bigger picture... those are the people that don't put much thought into the rest of the world. They live their lives without considering other peoples struggles.
The people I am looking for, are the people that read those books and feel what I feel. The people that think to themselves, I want to be a part of this. I keep wishing there is someone else out there, right now, reading what I just read and feeling what I am feeling. Knowing what I know. Knowing that this is a chance to be something great. In my heart I am a little afraid... A little nervous, along the lines of, what if there isn't anyone else out there with my passion, what if someone else isn't already in the process of this?? What if I have to start this mission from scratch??? I so hope that someone is already working on this project. I feel like I would prefer to join a person already so passionate, so that they take the credit, and I would just be the side kick... Or the kick in the side... At the same time I get a bit of a feeling that maybe this will be my job. Making this work. Pulling it all together... And its scary. A big task ahead of me...
Maybe I will change my mind again tomorrow (but I know in my heart this is my destiny calling me)... So now I have completed a HUGE and crazy post... Good night I guess... I'm going to finish this book...
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
A creation...
I was driving down the road and somehow words started coming to me... And so this is what I wrote when I got home... Its a start, written in like 45mins, so maybe with a bit more thought and effort I could make it a million times better...
Some of it made me cry writing it... Oh well, here it is.
P is a drug, more like a disease,
You act like a thug, you wreck families,
You call yourself gangsta,
But you are sicker than cancer
You are eating away at lives
Its about time you start to realise
This shit ain't a game,
Its fucking insane
Your bro just got out the loony bin,
There you all are offering crack to him
He says "no", one, two, three, four times, maybe five
And then he thinks "I'm not an addict, I'll survive"
Yall get fried, sit round the table, talk lies,
A few months later hes gone crazy again,
Is that such a suprise?
You all say you so loyal,
You call yourselves bros,
But you are killing each other
With this disease and you know.
How many of the boys have to go fucking crazy?
Before you realise that p is really just a disease,
Go ahead and try, do your best, amaze me,
You can't because this is whats destroying our families,
Your own flesh and blood,
The one you call brother,
He knew what you had to lose,
A child and your pregnant babies mother.
Still he sat there and offered you this shit,
Didn't give a fuck, thought you'd get away with it,
He mighta said "dog, have a puff, she'll never know"
You chose to accept, thought that I'd never go.
He didn't realise this about me,
That I wasn't stupid, that I could see,
That my whole world was changing,
That I was going to lose my whole family,
We are all gone now
The ones that you loved the most,
I wish I knew how,
All thats left is a ghost,
I want you to know that it isn't him that I blame,
It is you, why can't you see, you caused all the pain
You swore on our kids lives,
You promised me that it wasn't true,
You musta had me hypnotised,
I almost believed you,
But my heart told the truth,
It screamed at me from the start,
But I needed to see the proof,
And that shattered my heart.
When the truth arrived
There was no suprise,
Just something in me died,
It brought tears to my eyes.
My dreams of my family were broken,
My family was shattered beyond repair,
Now we were just another family,
Destroyed by this nightmare.
Some of it made me cry writing it... Oh well, here it is.
P is a drug, more like a disease,
You act like a thug, you wreck families,
You call yourself gangsta,
But you are sicker than cancer
You are eating away at lives
Its about time you start to realise
This shit ain't a game,
Its fucking insane
Your bro just got out the loony bin,
There you all are offering crack to him
He says "no", one, two, three, four times, maybe five
And then he thinks "I'm not an addict, I'll survive"
Yall get fried, sit round the table, talk lies,
A few months later hes gone crazy again,
Is that such a suprise?
You all say you so loyal,
You call yourselves bros,
But you are killing each other
With this disease and you know.
How many of the boys have to go fucking crazy?
Before you realise that p is really just a disease,
Go ahead and try, do your best, amaze me,
You can't because this is whats destroying our families,
Your own flesh and blood,
The one you call brother,
He knew what you had to lose,
A child and your pregnant babies mother.
Still he sat there and offered you this shit,
Didn't give a fuck, thought you'd get away with it,
He mighta said "dog, have a puff, she'll never know"
You chose to accept, thought that I'd never go.
He didn't realise this about me,
That I wasn't stupid, that I could see,
That my whole world was changing,
That I was going to lose my whole family,
We are all gone now
The ones that you loved the most,
I wish I knew how,
All thats left is a ghost,
I want you to know that it isn't him that I blame,
It is you, why can't you see, you caused all the pain
You swore on our kids lives,
You promised me that it wasn't true,
You musta had me hypnotised,
I almost believed you,
But my heart told the truth,
It screamed at me from the start,
But I needed to see the proof,
And that shattered my heart.
When the truth arrived
There was no suprise,
Just something in me died,
It brought tears to my eyes.
My dreams of my family were broken,
My family was shattered beyond repair,
Now we were just another family,
Destroyed by this nightmare.
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. :)
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. :)
Some of my creative stuff...
This is a start... The first time I have ever even considered putting this sort of thing out there. I haven't been writing like this for long, but it's something I want to keep working at because I seem to be developing a liking for it... I don't know if its good or not... Its from the heart, its my journey, its my writing. It is taking so much courage just to put this out there at all... but I have to start somewhere... so this is just a little of what I have been doing lately. I guess I will keep writing and it will keep getting better. I feel like I have a bit of talent, as most of what I write just comes to me from nowhere in particular, usually when I'm trying to sleep... so each lil bit only takes me a minute or so to write... Don't know where I'm going with this... but I guess someday I'll find out :)
Is your life just a joke from all the crack that you smoke?
Maybe you’ve lost hope and don’t know how to cope?
Have you lost the dream, do you know what I mean?
Are you surrounded by dead beats, addicted to the streets?
Are you tortured with violence, struggling in silence?
Is your life living hell, do you wish he was in a cell?
Is it two kids under to, or three under four, is that why you’re not sure?
I turned my struggle into a victory
Now you’re gone all that’s left is the history
the memories left are all heartbreak,
thats what happens when you’re just a fake,
Just another dream turned into a nightmare,
Just another family, broke, beyond repair
All you care about is the crack you smoke,
Even though you say you don’t
When I couldn’t get out of bed
all you could say was “bitch you’re fucked in the head”
Left as a single mum, trying to raise two lil kids on my own,
Shoulda been treated like a Queen on a throne...
When I gave you my life
you told me you would make me your wife.
Gave the kids your last name,
cuz i was supposed to have the same
I loved you so much, but it wasn’t enough,
wasn’t you anymore, life got too tough
The old you was gone,
lost to the game
so now i’m all alone,
living in pain
Gotta be by myself, heal myself, bring myself back from the dead...
All because you wouldn’t stop fucking with my head
Do those demons still wake you up at night?
Waking you, shaking you, until you fright?
Are those hands still going around your throat?
Or is that from all the crack that you smoke?
Do you still twitch when you’re in bed?
Are you gonna say its all in my head?
Is your life just a joke from all the crack that you smoke?
Maybe you’ve lost hope and don’t know how to cope?
Have you lost the dream, do you know what I mean?
Are you surrounded by dead beats, addicted to the streets?
Are you tortured with violence, struggling in silence?
Is your life living hell, do you wish he was in a cell?
Is it two kids under to, or three under four, is that why you’re not sure?
I turned my struggle into a victory
Now you’re gone all that’s left is the history
the memories left are all heartbreak,
thats what happens when you’re just a fake,
Just another dream turned into a nightmare,
Just another family, broke, beyond repair
All you care about is the crack you smoke,
Even though you say you don’t
When I couldn’t get out of bed
all you could say was “bitch you’re fucked in the head”
Left as a single mum, trying to raise two lil kids on my own,
Shoulda been treated like a Queen on a throne...
When I gave you my life
you told me you would make me your wife.
Gave the kids your last name,
cuz i was supposed to have the same
I loved you so much, but it wasn’t enough,
wasn’t you anymore, life got too tough
The old you was gone,
lost to the game
so now i’m all alone,
living in pain
Gotta be by myself, heal myself, bring myself back from the dead...
All because you wouldn’t stop fucking with my head
Do those demons still wake you up at night?
Waking you, shaking you, until you fright?
Are those hands still going around your throat?
Or is that from all the crack that you smoke?
Do you still twitch when you’re in bed?
Are you gonna say its all in my head?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Today is a bad day
Today started off so good... I was determined to be me for the day, calm, quiet, the good mum...
Just seems that lately I am so close to the edge. Just always ready snap. I feel so tense, so stressed out, so drained.
I feel miserable today. Not usual of me at all. But I know what it is. I fully just want to get away from my kids. Or have them go away from me... for days. I feel so terrible even writing it. But lately Aaliyah has been so hard to deal with. Its like in the game of me vs them, they are always winning.
I look around at other solo mums, and most of the time I am ok, but today it makes me cry. Everyone else has someone else to help them... Most have the baby's dads take the kids every week or two. My baby's dad is a crack head, doesn't even text or call to check on them, and once every now and then usually after 4 to 6 wks he must remember he hasn't seen them for ages and texts and asks to have them.
The main problem with that these days is he can only have supervised visits and so that makes it pretty limited with what we can do... He has always said he wants to get the supervision taken off but he never will because the day that happens he has to do regular drug testing... which he knows he can't pass. So its all talk no action.
And I get left for weeks on end without a real break. The wkend just gone I had my mum and sister stay. It helped me catch up on some sleep. Made me feel heaps better cuz I was tired and drained, but its like I'm so worn down now that I just need to get away... for a while, just to refresh myself, de-stress. Unwind.
There are other mums that have their family or flatmates that help out all the time... My family is great, but they aren't around often enough... and mum doesn't want me to have a flatmate. Today I just feel lost.
So I guess this is my attempt at getting away from them. I try and write or read a book or anything to take my mind off them, but its not really working cuz they just terrorised the bench... basically what I had started to get ready for dinner.
I just feel like I am falling apart. Maybe I am supposed to pull it together and be a better mum to them, but right now I just want nothing more than to get away.
I wish their dad cared... at all. I wish he would give a shit that I am drained and need a break. But he will just tell me I'm useless and that I'm failing, and it'll just make me feel worse.
Its not often that I get like this.... I am usually so happy, positive and optimistic. But I just feel worn out. Just like my kids have been pulling my insides out till there is nothing left.
This morning I had it beautifully... I was thinking to myself I feel like a poorly built house... To the outside I look great, modern, nice, perfect I guess, but its built so crapy that it probably won't survive the next storm. I feel like the only thing holding me up is myself, and the second I trip everything will fall over, into myself, like a big hole opening up below us.
I love my life, but at the same time I hate it. I guess the reason I love it is because I love what I am working towards, my goals and my dreams, and most of the time I try my best not to look at what it really is. Most of the time I live in my dreams and don't look at my reality. But when I do I get really down. I always try and look ahead, but on a day like today its so hard.
My kids are just turned 3 and almost 18 months. I have been on my own with them since not long after my youngest was born... and its hard. I get heaps of help from my family to help get kids clothes and stuff, I don't know how I'd survive without them. It makes me so upset when I think about how I can't go shopping. Everytime I go over $110 at the supermarket I feel terrible, and so after nappies and formula, theres not really a whole lot to go on actual food. and after that there isn't anything left for anything beyond bills. I can't even save to go get my hair done, or buy a nice anything let alone shoes or a damn hat for the kids. Every cent I spend on anything I feel guilty about cuz most of the time it has to go on the credit card, which always gets more and more owing... instead of less and less. I remember the days when I used to be able to pay the whole thing off every other week... even when it was maxed out...
I am working my ass off to get a bar started (I don't intend on working inside it, have another owner for that side) and I know once I get it going life will get easier... Winz will help out more to get the kids more hours in childcare... Its just taking way longer than the A plan...
Its days like these when I go back to hating their dad... I have forgiven him for his faults, he is a shit, I accept it. But when I am so close to breaking down (or maybe even already there) I feel like it should be his responsibility to step up and help. And it makes me so angry at him. I wish I could ring him up and scream abuse at him. But it won't change anything so I won't bother. Once apon a time I would have bothered... Now I don't. I keep wishing that he would be changed, not so I can take him back and be a family, we are well past that, just so that he could be a dad to his kids, properly, more than once every now and then.
Jeez, what a shitty post this turned out to be.... Hopefully next post will be full of happiness and usual me... Damn.
Just seems that lately I am so close to the edge. Just always ready snap. I feel so tense, so stressed out, so drained.
I feel miserable today. Not usual of me at all. But I know what it is. I fully just want to get away from my kids. Or have them go away from me... for days. I feel so terrible even writing it. But lately Aaliyah has been so hard to deal with. Its like in the game of me vs them, they are always winning.
I look around at other solo mums, and most of the time I am ok, but today it makes me cry. Everyone else has someone else to help them... Most have the baby's dads take the kids every week or two. My baby's dad is a crack head, doesn't even text or call to check on them, and once every now and then usually after 4 to 6 wks he must remember he hasn't seen them for ages and texts and asks to have them.
The main problem with that these days is he can only have supervised visits and so that makes it pretty limited with what we can do... He has always said he wants to get the supervision taken off but he never will because the day that happens he has to do regular drug testing... which he knows he can't pass. So its all talk no action.
And I get left for weeks on end without a real break. The wkend just gone I had my mum and sister stay. It helped me catch up on some sleep. Made me feel heaps better cuz I was tired and drained, but its like I'm so worn down now that I just need to get away... for a while, just to refresh myself, de-stress. Unwind.
There are other mums that have their family or flatmates that help out all the time... My family is great, but they aren't around often enough... and mum doesn't want me to have a flatmate. Today I just feel lost.
So I guess this is my attempt at getting away from them. I try and write or read a book or anything to take my mind off them, but its not really working cuz they just terrorised the bench... basically what I had started to get ready for dinner.
I just feel like I am falling apart. Maybe I am supposed to pull it together and be a better mum to them, but right now I just want nothing more than to get away.
I wish their dad cared... at all. I wish he would give a shit that I am drained and need a break. But he will just tell me I'm useless and that I'm failing, and it'll just make me feel worse.
Its not often that I get like this.... I am usually so happy, positive and optimistic. But I just feel worn out. Just like my kids have been pulling my insides out till there is nothing left.
This morning I had it beautifully... I was thinking to myself I feel like a poorly built house... To the outside I look great, modern, nice, perfect I guess, but its built so crapy that it probably won't survive the next storm. I feel like the only thing holding me up is myself, and the second I trip everything will fall over, into myself, like a big hole opening up below us.
I love my life, but at the same time I hate it. I guess the reason I love it is because I love what I am working towards, my goals and my dreams, and most of the time I try my best not to look at what it really is. Most of the time I live in my dreams and don't look at my reality. But when I do I get really down. I always try and look ahead, but on a day like today its so hard.
My kids are just turned 3 and almost 18 months. I have been on my own with them since not long after my youngest was born... and its hard. I get heaps of help from my family to help get kids clothes and stuff, I don't know how I'd survive without them. It makes me so upset when I think about how I can't go shopping. Everytime I go over $110 at the supermarket I feel terrible, and so after nappies and formula, theres not really a whole lot to go on actual food. and after that there isn't anything left for anything beyond bills. I can't even save to go get my hair done, or buy a nice anything let alone shoes or a damn hat for the kids. Every cent I spend on anything I feel guilty about cuz most of the time it has to go on the credit card, which always gets more and more owing... instead of less and less. I remember the days when I used to be able to pay the whole thing off every other week... even when it was maxed out...
I am working my ass off to get a bar started (I don't intend on working inside it, have another owner for that side) and I know once I get it going life will get easier... Winz will help out more to get the kids more hours in childcare... Its just taking way longer than the A plan...
Its days like these when I go back to hating their dad... I have forgiven him for his faults, he is a shit, I accept it. But when I am so close to breaking down (or maybe even already there) I feel like it should be his responsibility to step up and help. And it makes me so angry at him. I wish I could ring him up and scream abuse at him. But it won't change anything so I won't bother. Once apon a time I would have bothered... Now I don't. I keep wishing that he would be changed, not so I can take him back and be a family, we are well past that, just so that he could be a dad to his kids, properly, more than once every now and then.
Jeez, what a shitty post this turned out to be.... Hopefully next post will be full of happiness and usual me... Damn.
Its been a while
Well its been over a year... so I guess I should now dedicate at least a couple of hours per week to my writing and being brave...
I'm finding it a big challenge to break down my walls and open up entirely... The shit that is inside me is so dark and horrible... I guess I fight it all the way.
I feel like I have split personalities... On the surface I am everything that is Melissa... Awesome, happy, positive, optimistic, friendly, just damn amazing...
Then I go below the surface, to my realities... As soon as I pick up a pen and want to write something from within, it seems to turn dark, painful. Yet this is my best stuff...
I have usually kept a diary... Been that way most of my life. Just I always found when the writing got too bad or sad I would stop. Should've kept going through those times, that probably would've given me some amazing stuff...
I think its time for me to be open and write my heart wrenching stuff, for the world to see... its bravery I guess... letting my insides get out...
I have so much pent up inside of me... Words keep me awake so often. Lately I been writing a collection of rhymes. I can't help but wish I can get my words out to the world some how. I don't necessarily expect to change anything, just maybe touch a few hearts. I wan't to get these words to mean something to someone, or many. I want to make skin prickle, bring tears to eyes, I want to write with feeling... Not put up this false wall of amazing all the time...
I love my life, I am awesome, I am happy, brilliant, sexy, fun, crazy, beautiful, amazing, the very best mum, ambitious and everything else that is awesome...
But my other side, the dark one, needs an outlet...
NEED to stick with this...
So tonight, I won't get to the deep stuff... cuz my internet don't like me much, it keeps dying. And I'm not inspired tonight... but next moment of inspiration I will write...
I know I am destined for something great, I have something amazing ahead of me... I know of a couple of the great things I will do. I want to help people and give people opportunities. I just need to get to a place that allows me to help the best way I can...
So let my dreams begin again and hopefully I can pull together my most amazing work and put it here for the world to see, or not. Bravery.
I'm finding it a big challenge to break down my walls and open up entirely... The shit that is inside me is so dark and horrible... I guess I fight it all the way.
I feel like I have split personalities... On the surface I am everything that is Melissa... Awesome, happy, positive, optimistic, friendly, just damn amazing...
Then I go below the surface, to my realities... As soon as I pick up a pen and want to write something from within, it seems to turn dark, painful. Yet this is my best stuff...
I have usually kept a diary... Been that way most of my life. Just I always found when the writing got too bad or sad I would stop. Should've kept going through those times, that probably would've given me some amazing stuff...
I think its time for me to be open and write my heart wrenching stuff, for the world to see... its bravery I guess... letting my insides get out...
I have so much pent up inside of me... Words keep me awake so often. Lately I been writing a collection of rhymes. I can't help but wish I can get my words out to the world some how. I don't necessarily expect to change anything, just maybe touch a few hearts. I wan't to get these words to mean something to someone, or many. I want to make skin prickle, bring tears to eyes, I want to write with feeling... Not put up this false wall of amazing all the time...
I love my life, I am awesome, I am happy, brilliant, sexy, fun, crazy, beautiful, amazing, the very best mum, ambitious and everything else that is awesome...
But my other side, the dark one, needs an outlet...
NEED to stick with this...
So tonight, I won't get to the deep stuff... cuz my internet don't like me much, it keeps dying. And I'm not inspired tonight... but next moment of inspiration I will write...
I know I am destined for something great, I have something amazing ahead of me... I know of a couple of the great things I will do. I want to help people and give people opportunities. I just need to get to a place that allows me to help the best way I can...
So let my dreams begin again and hopefully I can pull together my most amazing work and put it here for the world to see, or not. Bravery.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Moving on?
Well I am trying so so hard to move on. It is so tough. I am trying to be strong and be happy for the kids but it can be so hard. I am so so tired and can't sleep with everything going on in my brain. I am trying to put on a happy face, and sometimes it is so so hard. It hurts so much because he has his new girlfriend and acts all happy. It is heartbreaking. He says that he is going to go to Auz with her. Jeez, thats what we did at the start when we were happy. I know in my heart that it shouldn't matter to me, that I should move on. I hate the fact that I even miss him at all. I hate the fact that I hold onto that time when he wasn't such a horrible shit. I shouldn't care at all about him. But I do. It's so horrible. It is extremely unfair. Why do I have to care at all about this person who has put me through hell? I wish I could just turn it off. I guess it is getting easier as the days go by. But I can't help it sometimes at night when I just miss his arms and I love yous... before everything went so horrible and sad. I am trying so hard, I just don't want to care about him. I have been told I should try and "move on" but I honestly don't think I could bring myself to be with someone else yet. Not to worry because I have my two fabulous kids, but it would be nice to have the love and support of someone who truely cares about my life and my kids and what I want to achieve... I am almost too scared to hope. Never mind, hopefully time will help me to move on...
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