When I first started part one of Door Closing, I didn't know where I was going with it. I wanted to tell my story from my point of view. The emotions of a young mother, newly single, who had never had a chance to discover herself.
It has been a huge under taking. I have had to step back in time and try to remember my mind set. I know it will be given to all of you in parts for now- part two is yet unfinished and Part one is more of the prologue to a year that seemed to be a decade instead of just twelve months. I apologize now if there is a trigger within the depths of this portion of the bigger picture. It was a time in my life a part of me wanted to forget and the other part of me feels it needs to be shared. We are never truly alone in our emotions, we all just play out our own story differently.
Before continuing please read
Door Closing- Part One
if you have already experienced that portion- proceed with caution- this is part of my story you are reading.
It has been a huge under taking. I have had to step back in time and try to remember my mind set. I know it will be given to all of you in parts for now- part two is yet unfinished and Part one is more of the prologue to a year that seemed to be a decade instead of just twelve months. I apologize now if there is a trigger within the depths of this portion of the bigger picture. It was a time in my life a part of me wanted to forget and the other part of me feels it needs to be shared. We are never truly alone in our emotions, we all just play out our own story differently.
Before continuing please read
Door Closing- Part One
if you have already experienced that portion- proceed with caution- this is part of my story you are reading.
The lighter flared. The cigarette burned. And yet it still wasn't satisfying enough as her fingers hit the keys, filling out yet another resume email, to a job she wouldn't get. Something else she wasn't qualified for. Four months. Four worthless months. Sitting around a table with other under qualified, living off the state individuals who were being “given” a chance to better their lives. Who in reality were just paying back the government for the meager allowance they were given to feed and house their children. Bitter tears threatened to fall as she hit send. She had no drive lately, sitting up late into the night, sending out more resumes. Resumes so old no one took them seriously. Jobs she hadn't had since she was sixteen and now here she was trying again. At twenty three. She was a nobody. With no experience and no place in the great wide world. Except those two small boy who slept in her bed behind her. In the cramped little room where whatever they could fit now did.
Four months, four months and she lost more than she had gained. Her marriage was over, the life she had been building. Her grandmother, the one who helped raised her was dead. Her heart couldn't take much more. She stood stretching cramped legs from the floor. She moved slowly and quietly as she could, looking briefly at her sons sleeping faces. So small, so sweet. They were all she had, so she would brush aside her bitterness. She would keep moving forward till she finally got a call back, or sucked it up and went to McDonald's for a 9 to 5. Anything would be better than the nothing she had now, but it paid just about as much as she had now. Nothing.
She felt this overwhelming need to tell her “instructors” the plain and honest truth. Sometimes you can't make something out of nothing. Stop filling me up with useless dreams. School won't feed my babies. She felt herself dying more and more inside and a part of her wondered if her boys would just be better off without her. She couldn't provide, she could barely care for herself right now. She felt herself wasting away to the nothing she was starting to truly believe she was. Her mind wasn't brilliant enough, her skills not honed enough. What did she know? Mechanical training of a teenager and the skills she used in everyday life? Sure she could cook up anything from a few ingredients and scrub a toilet. That wasn't what they wanted to hear. “You are more than that!” they would say. She would smile slightly and shrug her shoulder. “No, I'm not.” she would whisper to no one. “Just ask my ex.” All he ever said to her was coming back to haunt her now, the words were true. She was a nobody, a nothing. Doomed to fail.
Everyone said it would get better, but when, how? She had done everything she was asked to do. She had gotten all the right paperwork in, but she knew it would never get better. Not living in this steel box on the edge of nowhere, with other nobodies that time forgot. All living in their own selfish bubbles.
She stepped outside to the sound of tree frogs, beckoning forth the coming spring that seemed so very far away. She lit another cigarette, pulling in the toxic fumes into her lungs, letting it settle a bit before sending it out into the chill air. Her one vice, the one thing she took up to calm her nerves when the rest of life clouded her in. The pull of menthol in a heavily packed wrapper. Her mother was so pissed off when she grabbed a pack. The one time she felt truly rebellious in her whole life. She had little else. Though she had thought about it.
Standing in the office of the doctor who she was recommended, who everyone would told her would help her forget her pain. Yes, at the bottom of a little plastic bottle. All her worries would go away, her mind, her pain and the endless a he in her heart. She just wanted someone to talk to. Someone who didn't know her, didn't know him. She wanted someone to not tell her to suck it up and move on. She didn't need someone to call him so many names her ears bleed and her mind reeled. She needed someone just to listen and let her cry when she couldn't keep it in any longer. They offered her the little paper laced with a quick fix. Nothing could fix this- just numb it till she healed. If she could ever heal.
How easy it would be. She thought, as her heart froze over and the panic ebbed. She watched the pulse beat in her wrist as if egging her on. A dare she might not be able to refuse.
“Mommy?” a soft voice called from the other side of the door and her heart skipped at the sound.
Not so easy after all. At least not now.
“I woke up and you were gone. I thought you left me!” His bright eyes greeted her as she entered the living room. All of four years old and he was so grown, he was older than those years carried, but so young. “No baby, I could never leave you.” She said softly, her heart aching, being pulled in too many directions. She crouched down and pulled his soft body into her arms. “Never?” “I promise, my little love. Never.”
He leaned into her, trying to fit perfectly into her thinning arms. Her life right there in striped pajamas and smoky blue eyes. Her first love, her reason. As much as everything hurt right now, she had to keep going. She needed to find a way. To get them out of this place, away from the destruction that this sinking ship might create.
“Come, let us go to bed.” she whispered softly against his ear. Going to the bed that she had once shared with his father, that cradled both her babies now. She climbed in, one on either side of her. Snuggling close.
No, it wasn't easy. At least not right now.
Four months, four months and she lost more than she had gained. Her marriage was over, the life she had been building. Her grandmother, the one who helped raised her was dead. Her heart couldn't take much more. She stood stretching cramped legs from the floor. She moved slowly and quietly as she could, looking briefly at her sons sleeping faces. So small, so sweet. They were all she had, so she would brush aside her bitterness. She would keep moving forward till she finally got a call back, or sucked it up and went to McDonald's for a 9 to 5. Anything would be better than the nothing she had now, but it paid just about as much as she had now. Nothing.
She felt this overwhelming need to tell her “instructors” the plain and honest truth. Sometimes you can't make something out of nothing. Stop filling me up with useless dreams. School won't feed my babies. She felt herself dying more and more inside and a part of her wondered if her boys would just be better off without her. She couldn't provide, she could barely care for herself right now. She felt herself wasting away to the nothing she was starting to truly believe she was. Her mind wasn't brilliant enough, her skills not honed enough. What did she know? Mechanical training of a teenager and the skills she used in everyday life? Sure she could cook up anything from a few ingredients and scrub a toilet. That wasn't what they wanted to hear. “You are more than that!” they would say. She would smile slightly and shrug her shoulder. “No, I'm not.” she would whisper to no one. “Just ask my ex.” All he ever said to her was coming back to haunt her now, the words were true. She was a nobody, a nothing. Doomed to fail.
Everyone said it would get better, but when, how? She had done everything she was asked to do. She had gotten all the right paperwork in, but she knew it would never get better. Not living in this steel box on the edge of nowhere, with other nobodies that time forgot. All living in their own selfish bubbles.
She stepped outside to the sound of tree frogs, beckoning forth the coming spring that seemed so very far away. She lit another cigarette, pulling in the toxic fumes into her lungs, letting it settle a bit before sending it out into the chill air. Her one vice, the one thing she took up to calm her nerves when the rest of life clouded her in. The pull of menthol in a heavily packed wrapper. Her mother was so pissed off when she grabbed a pack. The one time she felt truly rebellious in her whole life. She had little else. Though she had thought about it.
Standing in the office of the doctor who she was recommended, who everyone would told her would help her forget her pain. Yes, at the bottom of a little plastic bottle. All her worries would go away, her mind, her pain and the endless a he in her heart. She just wanted someone to talk to. Someone who didn't know her, didn't know him. She wanted someone to not tell her to suck it up and move on. She didn't need someone to call him so many names her ears bleed and her mind reeled. She needed someone just to listen and let her cry when she couldn't keep it in any longer. They offered her the little paper laced with a quick fix. Nothing could fix this- just numb it till she healed. If she could ever heal.
How easy it would be. She thought, as her heart froze over and the panic ebbed. She watched the pulse beat in her wrist as if egging her on. A dare she might not be able to refuse.
“Mommy?” a soft voice called from the other side of the door and her heart skipped at the sound.
Not so easy after all. At least not now.
“I woke up and you were gone. I thought you left me!” His bright eyes greeted her as she entered the living room. All of four years old and he was so grown, he was older than those years carried, but so young. “No baby, I could never leave you.” She said softly, her heart aching, being pulled in too many directions. She crouched down and pulled his soft body into her arms. “Never?” “I promise, my little love. Never.”
He leaned into her, trying to fit perfectly into her thinning arms. Her life right there in striped pajamas and smoky blue eyes. Her first love, her reason. As much as everything hurt right now, she had to keep going. She needed to find a way. To get them out of this place, away from the destruction that this sinking ship might create.
“Come, let us go to bed.” she whispered softly against his ear. Going to the bed that she had once shared with his father, that cradled both her babies now. She climbed in, one on either side of her. Snuggling close.
No, it wasn't easy. At least not right now.