The 9th
is my mother’s birthday, and today I broke up with someone. These two things have collided in my brain,
and now I am completely miserable. I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape
the curse of my mother. We all get things from our parents. Like the color of
our eyes, or the shape of our chins. But we also get things like Depression,
Anxiety, or in my case Bipolar 1 with psychotic tendencies. This is part of the
curse I carry, but also there is another element that my mother gave me through
environment:
I’m the
worst person you could ever fall in love with.
EVER.
It’s not
from lack of trying on my part. I really do try. I feel things so fucking deep
I almost drown in it. I fall hard and fast. Like a freight train through my
heart. I can’t stop it. All I can do is ride it out to the bitter end. Which
happens with such frequency I am braced for impact. From the moment the
relationship starts a timer ticks in the back of my head. It’s loud and
obnoxious, but it knows the score. Doesn’t matter how many times they say they
love you. Doesn’t matter how many times you said it back, and meant it. None of
it matters in the end. It’s easily swept under the rug and erased as fast as
you can hit the Block button.
Back to my
mother and how she cursed me: I watched her deal with broken hearts, mental
illness, drug addiction and abusing everyone close to her. I saw the kinds of
people she surrounded herself with. Junkies and street kids, bikers and rapists.
That was my normal growing up. I lived through that, and then ended up on the
street, only to drag myself slowly over time into better places. My love life
is a road map of loss and pain. As I moved from city to city, I carried my
mother’s curse with me. The curse of failed romance. The curse of never finding
true acceptance or love. Love especially. Love would always be hard for me. I
watched my mother go from man to man, sometimes them abusing her, sometimes she
abusing them. A constant cycle of toxicity. I learned to swim in toxic waters.
I had no other choice, other than dying there.
Believe me,
I have thought about death hard all my life. I’ve watched someone die in front
of me. I’ve had a gun in my mouth and inside me. I’ve been woken up with
punches and death threats. My normal isn’t a normal place. I know
curses only have power if you believe in them. But some curses believe in you.
And you feel their tendrils when your heart is broken. Like it is today. I can
feel it cracking in my hands. I was reckless and let someone in deep. I tried
in my own way to warn him about the curse. He was a gentle soul, and I’m not. I
gave it a shot and now it’s over. I thought he was strong enough, that maybe I
got lucky again. When it was good it was fantastic. He made me laugh, he danced
with my dreams. They all do in some way though. Every lover I have ever had was
devoted to me…for a time. That’s what someone who loves deeply does for you.
That’s my special offering to my lovers.
But maybe I
am done doing this poly thing. Maybe I am a horrible person to love, but a
great lay. Too crazy for this world. They always tell me that. From the shadows
and to my face. Too much they say. They can’t handle me. Intense is thrown
around a lot.
But of
course, I am too hot to handle. I’m made of lava under my rocky surface.
No one will
say I haven’t tried all these years to overcome the odds. From the time I was
born until now, I have always been digging trenches and surviving the apocalypse.
For me life feels like that. It rarely feels calm or peaceful. I feel like I am
having a battle every day, several times a day, and because of it, I can’t
connect like a sane person with people. I try to reach for them in the shadows,
and in so doing, try to show them it’s nice here in the dark. Yeah, things are
creepy, weird and monstrous inside my heart. But that’s where I live and
flourish.
I don’t expect
everyone to stay with me in the deep dark. But visit once in a while is all I
ask. I think he really did try.
My mother cursed
me once, and told me no one was going to love me for long. *looks over at
husband* I keep working on that relationship because no matter how badly we
hurt each other or how rough things get, we never give up. It’s a beautiful
thing what I have with my husband. But I’m really lost in the past and present
pain. So much shit has happened in the last 6 months. So many shitty things
like scary roommates, a quick burning love affair, and almost breaking it off
with my husband. It’s been a painful train ride and I want to get off now.
So as I grieve over the past and my lost
innocence, I also grieve over another lover gone. One who looked me dead in the
eyes and told me he loved me.
Love is a
fickle mistress.
Am I cursed?
Do I really believe in it or want it to dictate my life? Maybe I should just
admit defeat and lock up my heart. I’ll find better ways to fill this ache for
others. I’ll survive this. It’s what I do. But it still cost me. Forgive me if
I need to lick my wounds for a while. I only have a couple things left to say
on this before I have a short visit to the abyss...
I will miss
you Coyote.
And burn in
hell Mother.
