#22 It still hurts

I've been missing my family recently. There's no particular reason, it comes in waves. I've been having dreams about my family and my siblings. Dreams are great like that, you get to see people you don't get to see. 


Sometimes when I see mums around I automatically think "those kids are so lucky". I served this lady 5 weeks ago I think and she was so similar to my own mother it was very strange - she had similar features, long black hair, had a similar accent and mannerisms. It was really disconcerting. Part of me really liked serving and talking to her while the other part wanted to smack her in the head and scream "Why???". As much as I have worked through my mother issues through counseling and a lot of tears, it is still a sore spot. I guess I'm writing about it because I needed to vent. I get butterflies when caller ID says it's mum calling and the weak and shallow conversations we have I could do without - deep down I am glad she calls, just wish we had 'something' to talk about. It's this horrible discourse, I love her and want to know her VS I don't really know her and vice versa and there is too much to catch up on to even get to a normal mother and son relationship status. I have seen my mum 3 times in the last 20 years. She still asks me if I am studying and I finished my degree 2 years ago - and she doesn't have dementia just a bad case of vanity. It doesn't usually affect me, just sometimes. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me melancholic whenever I go round to friends houses and see the interaction with their mum. 
All this aside, I have a great dad and a great step mum and the coolest younger siblings. I don't focus on this part of my story, but I do know it's there and to ignore its reality would be damaging. 


What I have learned in my modest 26 years is that you must acknowledge you have mould on the cheese before you can remove it from the block - and sometimes getting that knife out of the drawer and putting it against the cheese takes a lot longer than you'd think or like it to. 


I've been holding the knife for years and I have no idea when I'm going to cut it out. 

#21 Post dream

I had a really vivid dream last night. I was at my parent's house in Christchurch and the family and three men were having a meeting on the back lawn. It felt so real and the situation is so far away from anything I have been thinking about recently. After the conclusion of the meeting I walked into the house to my old bedroom where my mum was sitting, I started telling her what happened and broke down, then she started crying. When I woke up I was so angry about what happened, but then I realised I was in bed. The dream has been with me all day.


It's funny, because I have been waiting for a subject to write about for awhile (not for this blog but for a short story). I'm not particularly airy fairy about dreams, especially mine, recently mine have been about work. But this dream was just so vivid, I could 'see' everything, hear everything, feel the tears and see my mum's reaction - and the fact that I haven't forgotten the dream makes me wonder... also it was really nice to see my parents again.


Anyway, I am excited. I am going to write. I have a plot and I think it's going to be a good one. 

#20 JBB

He ran the Auckland marathon yesterday and it's no easy task to run that far. I'm really proud of him. He always does that - things that make me proud to be his friend. 

#19 Toast to a new friend

I made a new friend this week. She is down to earth, witty and just plain nice. The thing that floored me the most was her honesty. She confided about her life and it has been a hard road, yet she is still standing. She has inspired me. When someone can stay human, humble and still have motivation for life despite circumstances that would make some crumble, we need to celebrate them. So I would like to make a toast to your strength and your character. You know who you are.

#18 Days like these

I do stupid things all the time, things I am not proud of. The thing is, I have this annoying trait of basing my value on the things I do, so when I make bad decisions I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet. I whip myself (metaphorically), make myself pay penance, so I can atone for what I have done. If I could hit my head against a brick wall several times without permanent damage or scarring I would. 

I've been told this sort of thinking and behaviour is not very helpful. I know this, and I tell people who do this not to do it. I know I can never atone for anything I have done or will do, and I just can't get my head around it. How can 'it' all be atoned for? How can grace cover everything. It's crazy, the concept is so hard to grasp. Why did He do it? For me? For you? Why am I and you so special? Why does He love me when I have done so many things that are bad? I have spat in His face, said His creation (me) is ugly, worthless, a waste of space, a waste of time. And yet He would do it all again (not that He has to). 

'My performance says nothing about my essential value as a person. My value can only come from the fact that I am wanted and loved by the Father.'

On days like these that is the truth I hold on to. I hold on to it for dear life, because if I don't, I know I won't exist.