I am Selfish.
I wish I wasn't but it part of the healing I hope, so I will grow out of it. I need the time to focus on me, to figure out what I need, what I need to be without. It's not as simple as it once was, when all my energy went into getting out of what ever situation, relationship that was hurting me the most. Life becomes easy when your life is in danger, my vision literally, became tunneled, my whole brain focused on finding the door, the words, the acts of violence or the movement of money that would get me away from wherever I was. There was no need for consciousness it all happened by it's self.
These days my priorities are different. I have to do housework, get the shopping in, bring up my son, do the bastard ironing. It's all so much harder than run, fight or switch. People mean something, everything means something. In survivor mode everything and everyone is a tool to aid escape or not worth bothering about. I balanced every carefully up, did the best I could and didnt worry. Everything is much more complicated now that I am in charge of managing my relationships!
I hate how much I resent the housework sometimes. What is wrong with keeping a good, safe, clean home for my son? But still this persistent feeling that life is too short for regularly cleaning the bastard kitchen floor and that washing the friggin cutlery is a waste of my time and talents. I miss the faces, the hands, the little bodies that when I held I knew my role in life and my position in the universe. I was to protect them using every conventual and unconventual method my imagination and training could come up with. I so rarely feel that certainty anymore.
I did work in a kitchen in my teens to pay for my hash and hated it, I'm sure that hasn't helped me not despise all kitchen work and the inferior role that is associated with. Washing your rapists dishes is no fun.
But I think part of me is to scared to want to build my life around my son in case he is murdered or taken away like the others even though I know that's unlikely. I just hope my issues don't become his. When he was small and I held him I had to hold back all the memories of birth and babies but some broke though, mostly good ones when I loved and was loved so much easier than I feel I could now. I am ashamed of my desire for space from my current wee man when I think about how hard I fought to be in this position. Just to get pregant, give birth in a hospital, register the kid and live as a single mother on benefits. The life I have now was all ever wanted for so long, no guns, no glory just peace and love.
These days my priorities are different. I have to do housework, get the shopping in, bring up my son, do the bastard ironing. It's all so much harder than run, fight or switch. People mean something, everything means something. In survivor mode everything and everyone is a tool to aid escape or not worth bothering about. I balanced every carefully up, did the best I could and didnt worry. Everything is much more complicated now that I am in charge of managing my relationships!
I hate how much I resent the housework sometimes. What is wrong with keeping a good, safe, clean home for my son? But still this persistent feeling that life is too short for regularly cleaning the bastard kitchen floor and that washing the friggin cutlery is a waste of my time and talents. I miss the faces, the hands, the little bodies that when I held I knew my role in life and my position in the universe. I was to protect them using every conventual and unconventual method my imagination and training could come up with. I so rarely feel that certainty anymore.
I did work in a kitchen in my teens to pay for my hash and hated it, I'm sure that hasn't helped me not despise all kitchen work and the inferior role that is associated with. Washing your rapists dishes is no fun.
But I think part of me is to scared to want to build my life around my son in case he is murdered or taken away like the others even though I know that's unlikely. I just hope my issues don't become his. When he was small and I held him I had to hold back all the memories of birth and babies but some broke though, mostly good ones when I loved and was loved so much easier than I feel I could now. I am ashamed of my desire for space from my current wee man when I think about how hard I fought to be in this position. Just to get pregant, give birth in a hospital, register the kid and live as a single mother on benefits. The life I have now was all ever wanted for so long, no guns, no glory just peace and love.
