Who I am has been caught in my throat. Like a choked back sob that sticks there with a pang.
Has it been a whole year? (holy crap time is becoming a scary, unbridled sort of thing!)
It's been about a year since The Nothing descended (Neverending Story, anyone?), since the winter cold crept way deep into my bones and refused to melt even with the summer sun. But now I am not depressed anymore. I haven't been for a while now. I have been enjoying life. Enjoying my sons most of all. I am actually on sort of a delightful mom roll...being responsive and checked in, and even dare I say, fun? Stuff is good (even though challenges abound as per usual). The cogs and wheels of everyday life are running fairly smoothly, and intellectually and philosophically I am ticking along too. I am feeling steady, hopeful...OK.
But (and you knew there had to be a "but" coming right, or else what the eff's the point of this post?), my creative self is stuck in my throat like a choked back sob. I can't seem to let it out, and day by day, week by week the pressure builds, and it's starting to hurt.
The word visceral is stuck in my brain.
Visceral.
Visceral.
Visceral.
Something is lodged deep inside under all the layers of feeling better and being OK. Choked back, like that hard sob, that knots in your throat and makes it impossible to speak normally, even though your face is impassive and by all appearances you are just fine (thank you very much), if it wasn't for the betraying truth of that crack in your voice.
So...
That's how it is.
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You are going to barf out something amazing when it comes unstuck. Something visceral and beautiful. That's what I think.
ReplyDeleteThe word subjugate sticks in my head right now, the subjugation of self because the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. And I'm so confused on a good day what better is anymore. There is no actual better, maybe, just like there is no spoon?
I wonder if I'll ever know who I am anymore. I got so caught up in being for other people, and so caught up in not feeling like me that I'm not sure which me is left standing, or what she's good for. I tell myself that being a good mom is good enough, but there's this voice, way off in the distance yelling Is THIS all there IS??? There's this small painful sense of letting go of ideas and dreams I had once, of who I was and what I'd do, and this wondering if what's left of me has anything else to rush off into, or if I'll just recede instead. Deep thoughts, spawned by your words.
Words fail me miserably now. I feel something essential but mysterious happening in these late middle years, but I can't put my finger on it, or wrap words around it. I must know I feel something. Maybe I'll get something visceral out of it too, if I'm patient.
Thanks for this honest and deep thought provoking post. I trust that you will find your self in this, find your voice and feel not just OK but authentic and better than better. Real.
XXOO
Subjugate is an apt word. The mom thing, and the self that was getting lost in it. Almost the better you are at this mom thing, and the bigger the needs your kids have the more likely you are to drown in them. So yeah, no spoon, no better and left in existential crisis. Nearly every empty nested mom I know is bat shit crazy...what does that tell you? *at least I'm smiling as I type this, that's gotta count for something*
ReplyDeleteThanks for your response Mel. I have been so closed off for awhile now, and had almost forgotten how good sharing can be, or even why I should do it. Thanks for reminding me. Solidarity, how's that for a new word?
Perfect word. What I wouldn't give to sit and have a cup of tea and a chat with you....
ReplyDeleteThis is the next best thing though. Thank you for sharing. I'm on a mission to not be bat shit crazy when the kids fly away.
Keep smiling, darling....
Thanks E and Mel. I'm in Dubai, on my way home. This has been a trip of contraditions and extremes, perhaps even extreme contradictions. I havent done a good job of recording my thoughts on this trip, which seems a shame. But i have had experiences i will never forget.
ReplyDeleteThere is extreme wealth and extreme poverty and i havent witnessed much concern over being a good mother. I seem to have hit a phase where i keep wondering howmy life would have been different if i had kids.
And here i find myself completely ovrwhelmed by the need of so very many. So again, i think it is best that i didnt have kids. Sorry this is so fragmented. But great to read your post and response and think of something else for a while.