Words That Need to be Said

The tears sting as they roll down my face…

……….

If only I never panicked, then you wouldn’t have to go.  The excuse, “my mental illness took over,” is no good reason for this seperation.  I wish there was someway for me to prove that you were never in danger – I was afraid of going away. I didn’t want to say good-bye.

You see, son, I never should have been driving that day.  My license was just suspended (meaning that I violated a traffic law so the judge didn’t want to allow me to drive for a little while) and I didn’t want to be stuck in Helena all summer.  I had already been planning on moving.  I thought it would be good to get away.  So when I noticed the policeman behind us I got scared because I was being naughty.

It’s even harder to explain to you, sweet child, then it was to the officers…  One of my turn-signals wasn’t working, and when the cruiser followed me my heart dropped into my stomach because I knew that I was going to have to go with them for a couple nights.  That’s when I entered another world, and I slowed down but literally, could not stop.  An invisible force wouldn’t allow it.  Now, to anybody else that would sound crazy, however, you are young and innocent and can believe in such phenomena in this nature.  To clear this up I never intended on, “getting away.”

To be completely honest, I think that I just needed a few more minutes to calm down and grasp the situation.  Anyways, I got into trouble because I was doing something I wasn’t suppose to be doing.  The policemen were disappointed in me, and even upset because I worried them a little.  With the police, if you don’t do what they ask right away they get concerned and start to think that something might be wrong.  So I was in even more trouble and that is when they let me call Papa to come get you. 

I only had to go away for just a little while, but during that time your daddy took it upon himself to make the decision for you to move in with him.  It’s been awhile since I got into trouble and I haven’t got use to you living with daddy instead of me.  Sometimes it makes me cry because I miss you so much.  It’s even harder to see you cry when I have to go. 

I don’t like to go.  It’s only for a little while.

……….

I don’t like looking back on things and calling them mistakes. I’d like to say that I live with no regrets. I am where I am because of choices I have made and this & that. I have learned my lessons enough for a lifetime though… I have done some stupid things and now suffer the consequences. My time away from Yuri is painful. Yes, I have some wonderful people over here in my corner who support me and guide me and that is great… But every day that Yuri is gone I suffer. I suffer inside because I did this and it’s pure agony.

There is more to the story, and you are free to make your judgements, but I must ask you to look at yourself first. Everyone is facing their own demons, and everyone can use one less judgement. The world would be a much better place if we instead tried to do a little more listening and understanding and a lot less gossiping and judging. That’s all.

-Ari

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Let Us Begin, Again

It’s been awhile.  I haven’t written for my blog since July of last year.  I’m not proud of myself.  I don’t really have an excuse except, I guess, the generic reply, “life caught up to me.”  I just let go of it for awhile.

Let’s see.. looking at my posts from last year between May and July it seems as if I was.. hmmmmm.. a littttle manic.  I had the ideas to write.  Some subjects were a little off the wall I can admit.  What do you expect?  I’m schizoaffective.  Others were well-written and important to me.  Now, however, I just can’t seem to get the creative-writing juices flowing.

I want this blog to be able to reach others like me.  Whether that is other unconventional mothers, girls who at times let their brain disorders get in the way of living their life, or just other bloggers who like to blog and read blogs like mine.  I have already met some very interesting people through wordpress.  We’ve shared views and gave our two cents.  There are also so many different subjects of interest in the blogging community.  I don’t know why I let myself slack on the bliggety-blogging.

I will have fun posts.  Serious posts.  Emotional posts.  True posts.  A few fictions here and there. Adventuresome posts. Poetic posts.  Hilarious posts.  Educational posts.  Offensive posts.  Inspiring posts.  All kinds of posts!

I suppose I can give myself the goal of posting once a week.  Such things as writing challenges with yeahwrite.com and journaling and surfing other blogs for ideas will help me with that.  I want to be able to find my writing style by posting often.  Find my voice.  Maybe one day something great will come of it.

So let me begin by telling you a little about myself:  Wait a minute… where has the rum gone?

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He Loves Me, Loves Me Not

“Ya oughtta be careful what you say around her. She’s the town spermologer”.

When I first heard these words I scoffed. So what, she can’t be all bad. I believe I can handle anything that comes my way; a gossip queen can’t do me no harm.

Or can she?

I went into work the next day, and Liz says to me, she says, “Mourning Wildflower…”. I about choked on my coffee. She looked me up and down with her one good eye – her bad eye glazed like a blueberry donut – hand on her hip – left foot tapping – arms crossed, “Well?”, she asked accusingly.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, miss”.

Crisis adverted. How did she know?

Randy’s birthday is coming up on the 27th. He would have been at Wildflower last week if the transmission hadn’t given out on the last home stretch. As soon as the little red Toyota broke down he took out his yellow bic-lighter. Map in flames he let it fall to the ground. As he stepped onto the pavement the tow truck pulled up. Some kind of birthday month.

Back at headquarters, I was fixing
the little problems Yuri and I was facing. One, I couldn’t go back to work knowing Liz was on to me. Two, it’s time to move on anyways . Catch ya’ll the flip side.

Duct-tape in hand, Randy skates over to the next lamp post.

“Ya didn’t have to quit, Ari.”

I hand him a poster. What was I supposed to do? Let them mock me about my dead boyfriend?

“I don’t think they were mocking you, hun. They were probably trying to help guide you”. He skated over to the cork-board kiosk and did a plea-aye.

I hand him another poster. I look down at my iPod. Everything on my grooveshark account is playing by twos… Whatever You Like, Whatever You Like, Bukowski, Bukowski, Montage, Montage, Doesn’t Remind Me, Doesn’t Remind Me… God, who’d wanna be such a control freak?

“You can throw them a curve-ball, A-train”.

Wildflower is a big, witch-y, family reunion held in the mountains of my beautiful home state. It’s host of some of the best disc-golf tossers in the nation. Every year we have a tournament in the hills. Every year the location changes. And every year only a select number of homies get the maps to our destination. I guess it’s kind of like a sub-let party of the rainbow gathering. Most years I almost always get left behind. Guess they just don’t think I’m cool enough…

Foolish boys… I’d rock their world, too, if they just gave me the chance.

I’m not sure if we are really allowed to talk about it. It might be like one of thoooseclubs. The kind where the first rule is always, The first rule of __________ club is you never talk about ___________ club. He might be dead to you, but in my heart he is still alive.

Well, Wildflower, here is a big screw you with a smile and my middle finger flying high.

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-by Arian


 

Map’s Little Treasures

Waters raged against the river bank, wind blew hard. Rena shivered as the sails flapped violently. We need to find shelter... Andy looked to the skies – clouds rapidly closed out the blue, changing to a dark grey. Sam took a pull from his flask wondering if they would make it. There were no trees in sight; thunder was coming, and with thunder comes lightning. Rena, Andy, and Sam had little time to devise a plan. They could not afford to fail.

Andy guessed they had about 20 minutes left until it began to pour. Sailing west while the wind blew to the east, they had no choice but to row. All they needed was to find a few trees to tie up the tarp. Too much was at stake to keep on – they wouldn’t be much use if the maps were soaked. They needed to pick up speed. He pulled out his telescope to search for refuge. Just beyond the bend, a minor climb up the mountain from the bank, was a patch of trees on a flat. A surge of relief powered through his bones. “Ahoy, mates! Home, just is around the bend!”

The wooden boat rocked back and forth as the waves splashed wildly up at them. Rena and Sam rowed with all the strength they had gathered together. Keeping up with the current was difficult as they were up against the wind, but they managed. Andy steered the ship’s wheel as they descended upon the northern-shore. Anchor dropped and sails secured -thunder rolled (one, two, three, four, five) and lightning crashed- they readied their packs for the hike.

Setting up camp proved to be more difficult than what they hoped for due to winds. As they ate berries from journey of yesterday’s, Sam took another pull of rum and listened to the rain pour loudly onto soil. This was day six away from their real temporary home. He grabbed his pack and pulled out his leather-bound and pen. He was to write his wife and to add the days routes to his maps.

Dearest Rosette,
It is day six and the rain has stalled our trip. We have travelled far and seen much. But I miss you… If only you had come with, I assure you, this miserable loneliness would cease to be

Sam stopped writing only to look up and see that Andy and Rena were interlocked in each other’s arms, lips gently pressed against each others. Chills crawled up his spine. He missed Rosette only that much more. Why didn’t she want to come with? After all, this journey was her idea. Newlyweds, Sam and Rosette discussed their future, Rosette wanting to move out west. Sam called for his cousin, Andy, and they developed plans to find a homestead in Montana… and then Rosette discovered she had became pregnant with child.

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