Tag Archives: love

What He Wanted

He wanted me to smell like flowers. It was a strong bouquet, a scent which he had bought for another woman. The scent gave him the privilege of controlling the last piece of me that was my own within the strange hypersexualized world we had created for ourselves. It gave me a headache. Taking away not only the scent of me, but my senses as well.

Thoughts blurred by pain, physical and emotional. Thoughts freed by pleasure, physical and emotional.

We lost ourselves in our roles. Minutes, hours, seconds. Seconds became an eternity and time seemed to move at its own pace and last forever before moving forward. In those moments where I smelled like flowers I could be everything and nothing.

These moments ended, by the woman for whom the scent was purchased. The one who was enough to loves in another, more tangible way. The one that gives birth to a new life, even though it wasn’t the right time, it as her he wanted. The girls who preferred flowers to musk. She who had long hair and always remembered her lipstick.

I was never me he wanted. It was what I gave him that made him stop and crave, but not me, never for me. I learned these things in the months that followed, when my scent was once again my own, yet my thoughts had yet to return. Hijacked by the lingering of flowers on the breeze.

I gave him more than my body in those hours spent in his room. While we hid from the world I gave him pieces of me that I had longed to shed, but had not known I needed to lose. And in a way, he did the same.

I do not know where he is now. I couldn’t say if he is in her arms, or if he will be in mine again. I don’t know what I mean to him, or what he truly means to me. I just know that he would want me to smell like flowers.


Insomnia and Anxiety create a Mix of Regret

I can’t sleep, though I am tired. I can’t focus on anything, because I’ve got free floating anxiety. I don’t know why I’m writing right now, except that I’m hoping that it will make me feel better when nothing else has today.

It is after midnight so it is mother’s day. I’m not feeling excited about celebrating motherhood. I don’t know why. I think maybe it’s because I don’t get to spend as much time with my son as I feel that I should. I try to do the best I can for him, and right now that means that he goes to school where someone can be home for him when he gets off the bus. I can’t. I have to work, and I don’t make enough for after school child care, and that’s not what I want for him anyway. This however, isn’t what I want either.

I want to see the things he does every day. I want to hear him laugh, watch him grow, and help him with his homework. I want to be the person the school calls when he needs to go home sick, and I want to be the one who tucks him in at night, and teaches him his nightly prayers. I want to read his bedtime story and sing him his song. I want to hold him and cuddle him and show him how much I love him every day.

For the first part of his life I wasn’t capable of feeling these things. It got easier for me to let him be with family that could give him the love he deserved. That’s the problem with post partum depression. You can’t feel what you want to toward your child, and you hate yourself for it. I tried medication, and therapy, but nothing helped. Now I lost the chance to create the bond with him that I should have had.

There is no way to change the past. And while I can try to forgive myself for things which were out of my control, I don’t think I have the right. Not yet. Not until I again have the chance to be a family, be his mother.

I don’t deserve a happy mother’s day, because I haven’t been a happy mother. I’ve hardly been a mother. Others stepped in to fill that role, and I feel that now it is too late. I will never have my baby back, and I will never get to know what it’s like to hold my new born child with awe and wonder at the beauty that he is. I might not deserve it, but I wish I had it.

So now I’m exhausted, sad, anxious, and lost. I feel alone all the time, and I don’t see things getting better in that department. I have let down the one person I should never have let down. I’m not a terrible person, and I hope that I’m not a terrible mother. I’m just not mother of the year.

I want to grow, and watch my son grow. I want to love, and be loved. I don’t want to be alone, but I want my time with myself. I want more time with my son, because he is the world. The most special and spectacular thing I will ever create. No piece of art, music, or writing will ever compare to what my son is.

I’m not sure this is the type of crazy to embrace. So instead I say embrace the love. If you are angry with your mothers, or you children for not being able to be the best versions of themselves, especially if it is due to mental illness, please take today to forgive. Maybe if we all forgive each other, it will become easier to forgive ourselves.