It's been a while since my last time here but I just found some time
to write anything.
A few weeks ago I've found an excercise that helps you understand
yourself a bit. I think it's not that hard, when I saw questions I
didn't have any problem with imagination. You must meet yourself as
a child.
Imagine that you will meet little you...
Where is it taking a place? A bench, room or maybe a shop?
Take a look at yourself - are you sitting, standing, dancing? How
old are you?
Take a look at your clothes - do you have a jacket, trousers, dress,
any disguise?
Now look at your face - are you smiling? Where are you looking at?
Do you have anything on your face?
Now think a bit - do you want to ask yourself for something? Or you
just prefer to sit and don't talk?
Do you feel that you don't have to say anything because you
understand yourself without words? Do you know how does this little
child feel or do you want to ask? Try to imagine and understand it.
So I did it...
I'm walking down the path near to my house and I see little-myself
sitting on a bench. It's an April's morning, sun shines in the sky,
there aren't so many clouds. I'm moving closer... little myself is
looking straight and doesn't say anything. She sees me but doesn't
react. Her eyes are sad - I don't need to ask why - I know that
parents just had an argument and she ran out of a flat to calm down.
She doesn't cry but it's normal, she cries really seldom. So we are
just sitting together and enjoing the sound of silence. She has a
red jacket, I can't see anything more. I'm fulfilled with compassion
for this kid... she didn't deserve to be treaten like that. I drop a
tear and then she turns her head and gives me a little smile. I want
to help this child so much but I can't... little me must face it on
her own, like it always used to be. Then she stands up slowly and
walks back home. Without any word. When she's far away she turns and
waves to me. I smile through my sadness and wave back. This is the
end... she's gone now.
Friday, 20 February 2015
Sunday, 1 February 2015
Break.
As you probably noticed I didn't add any new posts in a last few weeks. The reason is that I'm pretty busy right now, so I can't find time to write. I have a planty of new duties at work, so it can take some time before I'll write anything.
Hope you're doing well.
Hope you're doing well.
Tuesday, 13 January 2015
2. where she was taking me when I was a little child
4 Publications plan. This is the 2nd.
I don't know if there's anything bad left in this world that I haven't seen yet.
Discotheque
Since I was 7, or maybe 6 years old my mother was taking me to her parties. As I mentioned before - she loved that so when father moved out and grandfather died, she had no idea what to do with me so I was supposed to go with her.
At first sight I thought it's a normal disco party. I was wrong. Usually in the first 2-3 hours everyone was sober and just dancing but then they started to take drugs, drink more or also having sex everywhere. Sick? First time I saw people having sex when I was 7 and it wasn't in a porn video. It's disgusting. As I was a talkative child I've found one sober person (deejay - one dayI will write about our friendship) and started a friendship with him. This guy was at my mother's age so he treated me like his little daughter. He didn't have to ask about my mother.. he knew her very well. Everyone knew her very well. Since I met him I spent every party next to his console and it was cool. The only one bad thing is that his console was in the opposite of parquet so I had to watch it all.
It wasn't that nice for a little child to look at her mother acting like a cheap wh*re, touching with everyone, kissing with everyone, drinking tons of alcohol, taking tons of cocaine and God knows what more. All I wanted at this time was to go home and hide under the sheets that anyone could see that I'm a daughter of that beast.
Of course it wasn't like partying and then coming back home and rest. Everytime we came back she was bitchin' at me that I'm a trash, that her life would be better without me, that if she had a choose she wouldn't give a birth to me... then usually she took something heavy and started to bullying me. If you would like me to count all the nights I've cried it wouldn't be that hard to do... just count all days since the day I was born to the day I moved out from her flat. Sometimes I've tried to defend myself but then she was getting more angry and aggresive. I can still remember that she was hitting me so hard and screaming bullsh*t like "die you little b*tch", "I hate you", "go to hell", "who's gonna help you now, you cow?". It isn't easy to think about it even now, especially that I'm crying like a little child at this moment.
No, I don't want to write about it anymore, it makes me feel so bad, I'm sorry. Maybe one day I will come back to this post and finish it.
(...) to be continued...
I don't know if there's anything bad left in this world that I haven't seen yet.
Discotheque
Since I was 7, or maybe 6 years old my mother was taking me to her parties. As I mentioned before - she loved that so when father moved out and grandfather died, she had no idea what to do with me so I was supposed to go with her.
At first sight I thought it's a normal disco party. I was wrong. Usually in the first 2-3 hours everyone was sober and just dancing but then they started to take drugs, drink more or also having sex everywhere. Sick? First time I saw people having sex when I was 7 and it wasn't in a porn video. It's disgusting. As I was a talkative child I've found one sober person (deejay - one dayI will write about our friendship) and started a friendship with him. This guy was at my mother's age so he treated me like his little daughter. He didn't have to ask about my mother.. he knew her very well. Everyone knew her very well. Since I met him I spent every party next to his console and it was cool. The only one bad thing is that his console was in the opposite of parquet so I had to watch it all.
It wasn't that nice for a little child to look at her mother acting like a cheap wh*re, touching with everyone, kissing with everyone, drinking tons of alcohol, taking tons of cocaine and God knows what more. All I wanted at this time was to go home and hide under the sheets that anyone could see that I'm a daughter of that beast.
Of course it wasn't like partying and then coming back home and rest. Everytime we came back she was bitchin' at me that I'm a trash, that her life would be better without me, that if she had a choose she wouldn't give a birth to me... then usually she took something heavy and started to bullying me. If you would like me to count all the nights I've cried it wouldn't be that hard to do... just count all days since the day I was born to the day I moved out from her flat. Sometimes I've tried to defend myself but then she was getting more angry and aggresive. I can still remember that she was hitting me so hard and screaming bullsh*t like "die you little b*tch", "I hate you", "go to hell", "who's gonna help you now, you cow?". It isn't easy to think about it even now, especially that I'm crying like a little child at this moment.
No, I don't want to write about it anymore, it makes me feel so bad, I'm sorry. Maybe one day I will come back to this post and finish it.
(...) to be continued...
Saturday, 10 January 2015
Ten harsh truths only the daughter of an alcoholic could understand.
A few hours ago I've found something interesting that I would like to share with you. Actually it's about fathers' daughters but maybe you are one or you will just find it noteworthy.
1. To love, or to hate.
The internal fight you have always had to face pulls you multiple directions. You think to yourself that your dad loves you, that he messes up at times but has also done extraordinary things for you. And that might be true; he certainly has always tried his hardest, but his hardest has not been enough to forge a happy childhood for you. You might have had nights where the yelling was too much, and where all the love you thought you had for your dad turned to hate. Yet there were also, inevitably, nights that crystallized his love for you. The back-and-forth is a daily pain you’re forced to face.
2. When you mess up, you know, deep down, that your punishment isn’t nearly as bad as it should be.
Yet you still don’t get punished like the other kids in your class. Why? Because you are Daddy’s angel, and your dad knows he has done much worse in the past. So you got a bad grade — it’s okay, he can drink it off for you.
3. When there’s even a mention of you drinking alcohol, he loses it.
Because he could never dream of his baby turning into what he has become. No child of his should have to face the struggle of being an alcoholic; he should know: he’s intimately aware of the misfortune it brings.
4. When you walk into the room and he is passed out on the couch with the TV on, you simply ignore it, turn the tv off, and go to sleep.
You’re the adult here — you’ve been so for awhile. You’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s you who will be tucking your dad in at night, and not the other way around. Situations like this have happened so many times, that you no longer even flinch when you find empty beer bottles floating around the living room.
5. You never have friends over; you go to their houses instead.
As much as you’d love to have a good hangout at your house, it’s much easier to go to somebody else’s house as opposed to yours, where your dad will inevitably be stumbling around and cracking inappropriate jokes.
6. “Sorry, he’s drunk” has became more of a joke to you.
To help mitigate the pain that comes with having to constantly explain your father’s ridiculous behavior, you’ve turned it into a joke. To protect yourself, you’ve learned to laugh at situations that might’ve otherwise made you cry in the past, no matter how morally wrong this truly is. And you do it quietly, of course — so he doesn’t overhear and get angry.
7. When you ask him to quit, he knows he needs to.
So he says he will quit, but he’s always said that. You know how hard it is for him to quit, and how much he relies on alcohol, but it still nevertheless upsets you. His “relapses” were never actually relapses; you know he has never actually stopped. In your head you tell yourself to be compassionate, but all you want to do is scream.
8. When you were a kid, asking him to pick you up from somewhere at night was completely unacceptable.
You did not want him drunk driving, and you knew he would take that chance for you. You didn’t want him to risk getting another DUI either. So you’d ask for rides home from friends’ parents, saying your parents were busy and unable to make it.
9. You do not trust easily.
Nope, not easily at all. Actually, trust is the hardest thing you have ever had to deal with. How can you trust someone when your father has let you down so many times? And that’s not even mentioning how big of liars alcoholics typically are. How could you trust a boyfriend when your own dad lies to you constantly? You are closed off to the world, and definitely closed off to love. The only person you need to lookout for is yourself, and you know that.
10. You are proud, and would not have had it any other way.
When you think about it, your life seems so difficult because it WAS difficult. It still might be difficult, or it may always be difficult, but that is what made you who you are today. You’ve dealt with the dysfunction, the abuse, and the pain. You have overcome so much and you can still smile today.
The internal fight you have always had to face pulls you multiple directions. You think to yourself that your dad loves you, that he messes up at times but has also done extraordinary things for you. And that might be true; he certainly has always tried his hardest, but his hardest has not been enough to forge a happy childhood for you. You might have had nights where the yelling was too much, and where all the love you thought you had for your dad turned to hate. Yet there were also, inevitably, nights that crystallized his love for you. The back-and-forth is a daily pain you’re forced to face.
2. When you mess up, you know, deep down, that your punishment isn’t nearly as bad as it should be.
Yet you still don’t get punished like the other kids in your class. Why? Because you are Daddy’s angel, and your dad knows he has done much worse in the past. So you got a bad grade — it’s okay, he can drink it off for you.
3. When there’s even a mention of you drinking alcohol, he loses it.
Because he could never dream of his baby turning into what he has become. No child of his should have to face the struggle of being an alcoholic; he should know: he’s intimately aware of the misfortune it brings.
4. When you walk into the room and he is passed out on the couch with the TV on, you simply ignore it, turn the tv off, and go to sleep.
You’re the adult here — you’ve been so for awhile. You’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s you who will be tucking your dad in at night, and not the other way around. Situations like this have happened so many times, that you no longer even flinch when you find empty beer bottles floating around the living room.
5. You never have friends over; you go to their houses instead.
As much as you’d love to have a good hangout at your house, it’s much easier to go to somebody else’s house as opposed to yours, where your dad will inevitably be stumbling around and cracking inappropriate jokes.
6. “Sorry, he’s drunk” has became more of a joke to you.
To help mitigate the pain that comes with having to constantly explain your father’s ridiculous behavior, you’ve turned it into a joke. To protect yourself, you’ve learned to laugh at situations that might’ve otherwise made you cry in the past, no matter how morally wrong this truly is. And you do it quietly, of course — so he doesn’t overhear and get angry.
7. When you ask him to quit, he knows he needs to.
So he says he will quit, but he’s always said that. You know how hard it is for him to quit, and how much he relies on alcohol, but it still nevertheless upsets you. His “relapses” were never actually relapses; you know he has never actually stopped. In your head you tell yourself to be compassionate, but all you want to do is scream.
8. When you were a kid, asking him to pick you up from somewhere at night was completely unacceptable.
You did not want him drunk driving, and you knew he would take that chance for you. You didn’t want him to risk getting another DUI either. So you’d ask for rides home from friends’ parents, saying your parents were busy and unable to make it.
9. You do not trust easily.
Nope, not easily at all. Actually, trust is the hardest thing you have ever had to deal with. How can you trust someone when your father has let you down so many times? And that’s not even mentioning how big of liars alcoholics typically are. How could you trust a boyfriend when your own dad lies to you constantly? You are closed off to the world, and definitely closed off to love. The only person you need to lookout for is yourself, and you know that.
10. You are proud, and would not have had it any other way.
When you think about it, your life seems so difficult because it WAS difficult. It still might be difficult, or it may always be difficult, but that is what made you who you are today. You’ve dealt with the dysfunction, the abuse, and the pain. You have overcome so much and you can still smile today.
Thursday, 8 January 2015
I don't want to go on without you.
Here in the gloom of my lonely room
I hold her memories and smell her sweet perfume...
Kinda nice one when lying in a bed and thinking about my life.
I hold her memories and smell her sweet perfume...
Kinda nice one when lying in a bed and thinking about my life.
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