I'm so mad, I want to rampage, get drunk, cuss, spit, punch something!!! Why do I let my husband and mother-in-law get to me this way? Every time she comes to visit she shows her true unchristian nature(she's the one who claims to be a christian, people like her are the reason I am not one!!!!!!) She disrespected my child, her grandaughter. My daughter, her granddaughter, was in a theater show. We invited the grandmom to travel to our home to visit with us and see the show. My daughter and the other actors, all teens, worked so hard this summer on this production of a broadway musical; the result was fantastic for their ages, experience and abilities. I have been so proud of my 14 yr. old for her part in learning the dancing, singing and being there for every practice and every performance (20 performances, open to the public). We went to a Sunday performance, and at the end the audience stood and gave a standing ovation to the cast. My husband and mother-in-law sat in their seats while most of us stood to clap (those who didn't stand were generally very elderly). At the restaurant afterwards, I asked my husband why he didn't stand to clap for his daughter - he said "oh, I was stuck in my seat". His mother defended him, saying "It wasn't her he wasn't standing for". My reponse was... who are you saving your approval for?? She then covered her face with her hands like I was being ridiculous. I can't understand people like that, I hate them, hate them, hate them. Glad I have to go to work tomorrow and not look at their faces, I don't know if I can be civil for the rest of her visit.

Dream Talk

My dream mocked me. It asked me to question my life. It asked me how much I can take.

I'm unhappily married in my dream, just like my real life. I'm attending a school where I am a new student, assigned to one of the "smart people" classes, only I don't realize the school is divided into classes of smart kids and rich kids. I am not rich. The first day the bus ride home takes forever and my bus stop is the last one, even tho the bus passes close to my street but on the other side of the road.

The next day at school there is a contest for each class to build a village. Our smart class is so busy learning we don't really make any plans for the contest. When it is time to go home, all of a sudden in walks my husband holding hands with another guy. He is acting like its no big deal. Now, I realize, I know why he goes skiing all the time and won't take me with him. I knew he was lying all the time but I didn't want to deal. I am furious but don't want to make a scene. He wants to give me a ride home but I refuse. The whole time he talks to me he never lets go of this guys hand. I refuse to talk to him or meet his friend and he leaves. How much am I going to take from him before I leave?

Then I walk outside and see that the rich kid classes have built these awesome villages. They look like they were built by contractors, they look like beach houses, or expensive townhouse neighborhoods. I ask our teacher how we can ever compete with them and she just shrugs. I am full of anxiety at the prospect of not being able to build our village as we have no supplies and no money. What are we going to do, build a tent city?

Then we get on the bus and I try to convince the driver to let me off at a different bus stop so I can get home sooner. He doesn't want to let me off on the wrong side of the road, but I tell him I am not some little kid. End of dream.

One Day

My two best friends the summer I was fourteen were Sarah and Billie. Sarah and I were at Billie's house and we were getting ready to walk down to the deli for a soda one hot saturday. In the family room, Billie's dad stopped her and asked where she was off to and when he saw she had on makeup he started yelling and calling her names. What is that shit you have on your face he screamed, you look like a whore. Sarah and I froze. Billie stood silent for a moment in the blast of his words, then ran. Sarah and I fled with her out the back door and we didn't stop for two blocks. No one said anything. When we hit the deli, we bought some candy bars and a couple a sodas. Sarah and I kept the owner busy while Billie got a pack of smokes from the vending machine.

We traipsed over the to elementary school and sat against the wall in the shade, eating and smoking.

"Someday my real dad is gonna come get me," Billie said.

"I know," I answered.

Leaving

Ready to be on my own

I contemplate leaving here, leaving him

But when I stand on the edge of the cliff

I don't know if I can fly

Emotional Abuse - a different kind of pain

some people think
that if you haven’t been punched then you are ok but i’m not ok oh no i don’t think i’m ok

i am not covered in bruises my ribs are not broken my hair has not been pulled from my scalp and I have no black eyes or split lips for you to see

i do not wear dark glasses or lots of makeup or a big hat or long sleeve shirts to hide my marks from your prying eyes

some people think that if your hands are not bound and your feet are not shackled and your windows are not barred then you are free to go free to go but you can’t go

some people think that i have it all together my life looks good from the outside and i get good grades in school and study all the time and i want to be somebody

but really i am just a fake i know it’s empty inside yeh it’s all empty inside i’m all empty and i wonder who i am who am i and why do i smile for you when i really want to scream and i want you to tell me where to find anything anything anything
that matters

some people think
they know everything but
they don’t know anything at all no nothing at all
about me

Afraid

July 2006
Afraid

I stand with my chin resting on the metal bar of the gate, searching the empty yards of my neighborhood from the safety of my chain link enclosed backyard. Our house sits at the bottom of the horseshoe shaped road, giving me a fair view of all the yards, all the way to the top of the street.

I am not quite sure where the dog lives, and I have only seen him once. But I believe my brother when he tells the stories of seeing the boxer with a dead cat in his mouth, and one time, of running from the dog, climbing a tree to get away from the hungry jaws.

So I stand with my hand on the latch, a little girl in brown corduroy pants and brown shoes, with waves of fear consuming her at the thought of leaving the security of the yard, with no one to protect her if she ventures out.

Now my hand is on a different latch. Now the enclosure is a gilded cage. Now a fierce dog has become a traitorous adversary. Dread is relentless as I contemplate leaving my enclosure.

It’s like standing on a glacier in a fierce winter storm, knowing deep chasms are hidden under the frozen snow and each step must be tested, measured, to assure there is no hidden abyss as I move forward. I try to envision myself safe on the other side, where the glacier meets the smooth surface of the mountain, where there is hope of soft powder, where I can snap on my skis and glide home.

Home where it is safe, home where it is warm, home where I want to be more than anything.