I can be tenacious when I want. Ask the few people who have worked me up to the point that they beg for mercy for me to let them go.
They wish they never started the game, if you could call it that. However, once you get me going to that degree, you made your bed and you lie in it That is my mother’s favorite saying. She said it when I fell down or made a mistake.The point was that I should suffer to my grave and she would be happy for it.
If I get off on my missteps, it will be a whole other story. For now, I am trying to tell you how I became bad. First of all, I stayed good for a long time. It was pure tensile strength. I was normal. What is normal? It is accepting what is without putting a lot of fluff on it. By that standard, I was normal However, I despised my mother.
I could never despise her in peace because I pitied her and I loved her. My mother looked goofy. She was too tall. She wore weird stretch pants. Her feet were huge but in all her goofiness, I loved her. I was her doll. She doted on me but she hated that I was her doll, too.
My love for her was like that for an animal who bites you but you can’t get rid of them. People tell you to take the animalto the pound or give him away but you can’t. More to the point, I was like the victim of the flesh eating bacteria. I kept losing fingers and toes and then limbs. Finally, I was a torso like the person who was born a monster, walking on stimpy stumps. To go on with the story, I will begin with how I became a shell.
I asked the one person I trusted, my father, the pivotal question of who was crazy? He told me that the mother who molested me was FINE. I must be the problem. I was making it up. I was seeing it wrong. I could not trust my eyes. I could not trust my gut. I was CRAZY, CRAZY, CRAZY.
A few months later, I was looking out my bedroom window. I decided I must be crazy thinking all these things I could not trust. If changed into a non crazy person, I could be FINE, FINE, FINE, So on that day I became a ghost.
I was vapor like vapor that rises from the water you are boiling for tea or smoke that wafts up from your cigarette. I was as if I evaporated. It was a crazy thing how I could be there one day and gone the next as if I never existed but it was a conscious decision. I threw myself away the way you would a bad set of clothes that got so dirty in some unseemly way that you threw them out the car window or to a dumpster behind a restaurant. I was gone and so the old story ended and the new one began.
If I put this in terms of cars, I was a Fiat and I became a Volvo. A Volvo is fine if that is what you were made to be but not fine if you are hitting the head with your ceiling or scraping the floor with your behind. I was not made to be a boxy car that could resist high speed crashes. I was a supposed to be a sleek car who could wind in and out of traffic.
At any rate, I do belabor points, so will try to move on. I had no need for the me I was made to be. I had to be the sanitized version like when a smutty song gets kindergarten words. It loses whatever gave it jive. It becomes runny vanilla pudding that you won’t touch even if you are hungry.
I think these decisions are survival decisions like when the body shuts down from shock. . Your body does it’s thing and you follow. However, my life became grey. I could never make the grey go away no matter what I did. I tried everything from bad things to good things from the nun version to the wicked version but the grey remained and with it came a cloying sadness that mixed with the grey and made mud that surrounded me like Pig Pen’s cloud.
I was muddy all the time, even though I tried to clean up. It was indelible mud such that it stuck to your soul.
I will be back
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