Clean Up In Aisle Three

  It's the Clash of The Titans inside of me.

There is a cataclysmic eruption of conflicting emotions and feelings going on in there, that when all is said and done, Barack O himself is gonna declare me a disaster area.  (Hmm..maybe FEMA will come to my rescue..I may be onto something...)

It's a major understatement to say that I have a lot going on.  Major changes are headed my way, both bad and good...I think.  It's given me much to consider, and makes me realize how imperative it is that I overhaul my life.  I have all the right knowledge, and have my ducks in a row in my head.  I know what humps I have to get over, and realize the sacrifices I have to make to do that.  I also know how freakishly and seemingly impossible it's all going to be.  I know myself; I'm easily frustrated, I like almost instant gratification, and when I'm facing a mountain like this, I tend to get discouraged and want to give up.  I also know how detrimental that would be to my own well being.

Obviously, it's first things first.  The Illinois judicial system is about to have its way with me once again, and I think the quick slaps on the ass have run their course.  My guess is that I will be a guest of the state for a good chunk of a year this time, the thought of which makes my insides churn like a cement mixer.  It's not so much the 'GOING' I mind, but the 'STAYING'.  1 month was hard enough-it felt like a year.  I memorized the yellowed walls and the stench of the block and the junkie catcalls and the entire commissary form. I know exactly how long a phone call home lasts, and the intervals at which the prerecorded voice interrupts your conversations, and how the last interruption always shaves the last 75 seconds off your call, leaving you j-u-u-u-st enough time to say 'loveyoucallyoutomorrowbye' before it hangs up.  Being in there makes you miss life, even makes you miss things that you hated before you went in.  Just breathing fresh air is a luxury, and is something only 'good behavior' can earn you.

D-Day is coming up in just over two days, and I'm bracing myself for the worst, and doing my best to prepare myself mentally and emotionally.  I know just from past experiences how easily being inside can break you down and kill your spirit.  A little part of you dies every time you walk through the doors, and you never get it back again. You're permanently changed...hardened. You aren't the same you anymore.

The worst part, obviously, is having to leave my kids.  The hugs goodbye never last long enough to get me through, and the looks on their faces as I'm leaving haunt me the entire time I'm behind that steel door.  Any other time I was in there, I couldn't have them visit.  It was purely selfish...I couldn't stand the idea of them having to see me that way, and having to see them thru a sheet of bulletproof glass...and having to watch them leave. Without me. But I missed them in insane, fierce ways, and wanted nothing more than to see their faces. It was a horrifying dichotomy and had me torn up in about a billion little pieces. Now things are different: I'm not just going away for 3 weeks or a month.  Can I stand not seeing them for longer than that?  Can I handle them coming to visit but having no physical contact until a judge says I can?  I'm split in half.

I have to move on to something less painful-it's getting hard to see....

I'm getting better with the 'acceptance' phase of my ex-relationship.  I'm not gonna lie tho--the idea that he has already let me go and is over me, and us...it burns. It leaves me with alot of 'whys' and "how could yous'.  I wonder how come it's so easy for him to let go and walk away, and why he isn't holding on as tight as I am. 

I know that, while I'm gone, that little bitty hold that I do still have on him will completely dissolve, and there will be no more "us" ever again. I'm afraid that I'm gonna lose my place altogether, and will just be the newest deposit in his memory bank.  I guess I'm still working on how to handle that...acceptance comes slowly.  I wish I understood why it's so hard for me to unhook myself.  Maybe the answers will come in time, and in a few days, I'll have nothing but. Maybe that's the pewter lining to this cloud.  Being in jail will cleanse my soul of my wretched ex-boyfriend and still love of my life...huh. There's some crazy irony for ya. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

There is a hidden plus side to all of this adversity, and it comes in the form of a giant boot to the ass. I have to make changes.  Big ones.  I've got a life blueprint, all drawn up and ready for construction once I'm a free agent again, and I'm fully committed to seeing it carried out to completion.  I know what I need to do, I guess I've always had this plan, but now I know that I have no choice but to stick with it.  My kids deserve better, I deserve better, and it's time that I make myself proud again.  I keep falling into the same traps, and getting slammed with wave after wave of bullshit, and its all my own doing.  I have no choice but to finally dig myself out of this shit and kick my own ass.  I know that I have to work this plan step by step to get the right results and not fuck myself up for the hundredth time.  I have to remember to not get frustrated and discouraged, to keep my eye on the ball and focus on the prize.  I don't think I can mentally handle any more failure, so it's just not an option anymore.  It's time to pull my socks up and kick some doors down.

...and maybe get a mop to clean up my mess.