Thought dump #1
Thoughht dump #1. I'm not sure if it's my brain trying to deal with trauma, me being nostalgic, or what... but sometimes I go back. Like I dream of where I used to live as a child and as a teen or something that used to happen. And those years feel so far away, but then will just hit me out of nowhere. It's like getting hit with a car. It's not expected always. And it's pretty painful. Like the bad things I remember about being a kid... those things sting. Things that happened make me feel small and worthless, fearful in the way a child who doesn't know what comes after or what is on the other side feels. Those hurt me to my very being and are things I'm still not ready to process even 20 years or so later. And the good things hurt, too. Feeling good or peaceful or happy were rare, but sooo treasured. I like to look at toys I used to play with or that I wanted. It's funny to me now to think about how I was as a kid. They remind me of the imagination I have and used to have and all the different ways I would escape the things that almost broke me. And it's random things that can trigger it. Book covers, certain materials, smells... when the light hits the outside in a certain way. Like seeing a playground in July when the suns just starting to really set. The chill summer air, the stillness of it all because everyone's gone home for dinner. And I think about the fun I used to have and how big and exciting and almost magical things used to be... and that hurts, too. Like looking at the face of my father, who is almost 70. That man made my childhood and teen years pretty wonderful, as weird and eccentric as he was with all his brokenness and quirks, he always tried when it came to me. He's not my big strong, can fix it all, knows everything dad anymore, though. Now he is old and skinny and very tired. He's quick to anger and very irritable. I can tell he isn't feeling well and his mind is starting to slip. And that hurts me in a way I cannot describe, a way that takes me straight to tears. That pains me to my core. I'm not ready to lose him in anyway and it hurts to visit or see him or my mom because the decline of a loved one in being is watching something you love begin to slip away, with no real way of stopping it or holding on to it. I'm not even going to go into the guilt I feel in loving my father because of what he has done to others, but never to me. I know that I knew a different man than a lot of people did. We spent so much time together. My adult life has been people none stop showing me that I can, in fact, live my life just fine without them. I don't need anyone, but to say I don't want them there would be a lie. I cannot wrap my head around life without my father, or mother, honestly. My mother filled every role in my life a mother should, really. But I haven't ever felt connected to my mom beyond a mother's role. I hate that, but it is what it is. My relationship with my mother is a huge reason I never want to have children. I know how unstable I am and I know I wouldn't be able to be a functioning adult for a child the way a child needs a mother to be. I might be able to do what I need to do and make myself get out of bed and take care of them on my bad days, but a child needs more than a mother who can only do the bare minimum and only sometimes. I can't even guarantee bare-minimum care to myself.