Not Just ME but Black

I find myself not knowing what to write and not knowing what to say.  I sent someone an email asking what in the world I am supposed to do, Poor guy. If you are reading this I am sorry, I honestly didn't know what else to do. 

I think things are different for my children they have challenges all the way around. Single mom, not the most traditional family, crazy relatives, a mom with a trauma history, overprotective,   I can only hope that I have made the right decisions.  I have not thought about it much, but last week things began to get heavier, things began to get bigger and I can not carry them anymore. Yesterday Vincent  getting his hair cut, I could have burst into tears.



My children are Bi-Racial and I think that is something that I have largely ignored.  But at the same time been aware of.  There have been comments their entire life!  n the hospital, In stores I have been asked are they yours ?  I have been asked if they were adopted. I have been asked oh what are they mixed with.  Sometimes very rudely with out any thought about my heart at all. They are just my Vincent and Mariska and that is all that matters. They are mine, they are what matters, and nothing else.  They are everything perfect and the best part of me. They are mine, a part of me and that is all that matters. ALL THAT MATTERS  Oh my heart what if that isn't all that matters ? What if there needs to be at least acknowledgement that there is another side ?  How does that work,  I am sure it will break my heart.

I was working on paperwork this week and saw that one of my students, had put African American as his race.  In that moment the world stopped.  I had so many questions,  how did they make that choice,  did they consider anything else ?  My world stopped and like a rush of the oceans so many questions came rushing in.   His mom is African American and his dad is White. And I looked and looked again ?  And I wondered OMG,  did I do the right thing.  I put caucasian on my children's birth certificate.  Their school papers,   Caucasian.  Because for me and how were they conceived,  that african american part didn't doesn't  mean anything. He (Charles) was not a good guy , he hurt me , he didn't listen  But what if I am wrong ?  What if it does matter ?  What if my children see that he is a part of them ?

I think part of my fear is  what do I do if they do?? It breaks my heart, literally hurts me . With all that I am I just want to do what id right for them.  What will make their heart happy.

I heart your heart.

Food

This totally says it all really and it makes me more than sad.  What is a person to do when food is the comfort because you know it will never ever hurt you and for sure it will never leave you. How does a person get to this place. This is where I am and I fear that it's getting worse.  Being thin scares the shit out of me getting heavier scares the shit out of me.  I am in this inbetween , and not sure what comes next. I am ready and want to make a change,  I don't have hundreds of dollars a month to make that happen.  I am tired, tired all the time . There is no rest and no peace. 

Food was always it since as long as I can remember, it was safe.  I could sit and enjoy a bowl of chips and nothing else in the world mattered.  They were amazing, I wasn't alone and they wouldn't hurt me.  And that is where the problem lies because with few friends and the ones you did have leave :food is the friend.  Food doesn't speak hurtful words, tell you to get over it, that you take too much time, that you are too odd to be a part.  Food is there with me in the silence and the celebrating and when nothing is in your heart there is a salty snack or piece of cake to fill the void.  So finally speaking this is hard.  It makes me cry,  it hurts my heart.  And I don't have a clue where to go or what to do with this.  I am not a poster child look at ma look at me. In all honesty if I could get skinny and wear a fat suit I would.  I just want to do it for me for the kids.  Staying where I am scares me, I worry about my heart.  I go to Jan next month and will ask her.  There has to be a way for me, and as scary as it is.  This is something that I want.  It;s almost like a restart button you know.  A fuck you to all those that have left me out and made me feel less than.  I have so much to share and there are things n this ife that I still want to do for me. 

I heart your heart.     

Some things can't be spoken

Some days are harder than others. Some days the kids ask questions about my life and what it was like growing up and my heart hurts.  Because some days I just can't talk about it. Well I could but its too heavy for them, and its more than I want to open in the moment. Somedays I just can't, they don't understand the life that I lived and some days I just want to focus on the good things that they have. I want them to talk ans share their memories.  It's crazy because there are times that my mom is in the room and she doesn't have a clue and she makes her comments but even she doesn't understand or realize the things that I had going on . I often feel like she didn't see me at all.  That makes me more than sad.  Yes, she did the best with what she had but that just wasn't enough.


 Vincent made some comment about me being social or I guess lack of being social and that stuff hurts my heart truly.  I do wish that things were different for me growing up and sometimes talking about it is just a reminder of the things I didn't get to experience and it makes me sad.  Vincent talks about friends and parties and I don't get that.  I was the one never invited with never any true friends to share things with.  I was the school odd ball and add that to all the hurt and abuse that I had going on and life for me as a teen was purely brutal.  I was a misfit that no one saw, no one heard and no one understood. I was scared all the time.  I even ate lunch in the library.  I was all alone almost all the time. Yea let that sink in All alone, Almost all the time.  I was made fun of and picked on that was my life.  I was looking for happy a place where I belonged and yet I never quite fit in ANYWHERE.

I was weird, I thought different things I had safety and survival on the brain every second of every day. When those are the things you focus on you are different. I saw things and experienced everything different. I was always the observed having to be prepared and ready for what might come at me.  There was no care free fun and friends those were things that were for other people.  I watched high school go by I was a nobody.  I was the fat chubby kid that asked for what happened to me.  I was the outcast that wanted attention.  Who would want to do things to me.  Right ??  I took in everything going on around me and knew that if they knew my life they would want nothing to do with me.  No dances, no dates no friends. Dreading pep rallies because there was no one to sit with.  I was the loner, forever and always, outside always looking in never a part.  Yes, that was my experiences of high school.




I learned really fast to do all the things that were asked, the things that were expected but there was nothing inside but SHAME.  I remember all these things and feelings like they were yesterday and these are the things that I won't share with my children at least not now. Maybe someday sitting on the beach as they get older and have their own families.  But for now there is no point.  I wil do everything that I can to make sure that they have the things that I didn't have. I want them to enjoy every second and experience all the things that high school has to offer.  I worry for them oh so much,  but I also know that things are more than different.  They don't have the same burdens to carry , not to say that they don't have any theirs are different but they don't carry those that I did.  I want so much for them.  I want them to be a part and not an outsider. I want them to find their people and laugh be stupid, have fun those are the things that I want for them.  In my wanting all those things for them I smile and remain quiet about what it was like for me.  It's better not to burden their heart and better not to break mine wide open, because some days it still hurts like it was yesterday. 


I heart your heart .

Someday Free , Someday ME