Building.

Building a bridge to the one you love.

A person could build hundreds of bridges over a lifetime.  We develop in so many different ways in our short lives, and for each new milestone that we reach there could be a new love.  

So how many bridges have I and will I build in my life?  Of this I am not sure.  For me, to build one and have it be eternal would be virtually euphoric.  Although, I've given away a lot of my building supplies to those who seemed promising and it would seem that I only have enough supplies to build myself a shelter instead of an entire bridge.

Maybe (just maybe) someone will have some extra building supplies to spare, and we can somehow meet in the middle.

Moderations...

A sure fire way to make any bad day better is by listening to music that is so sadly depressing that it is actually comical.  Take, for instance, 'Tom Dooley,' this song could make even the most suicidal want to parade around in a tutu.  

"When in doubt, don't;"  This is interesting.  It's a suggestion that's been resonating with me for quite a few months now.  I feel like I'm on some crusade against these "dark forces," but I keep coming back to this place where I think that those "dark forces" are all the turmoil that I cause myself by endeavoring to battle with myself in the first place.  

With that being said, I'm not sure if there is actually a "right" or "wrong" in this world.  I'm beginning to think that those ideas are the equivalent to our idea of time;  it's all relative to how we mean to truly experience this world.  We could live without the concept of time, and also the concept of right or wrong (COULD being the operative word.)  At some point in everyone's life the realization that right and wrong is simply subjective and that it works differently for each person becomes a truth.  When is it though that we abandon all the beliefs we've been herded into and really start adapting to our true selves?  

I'm sure there is no point to this post.  Well, there is.  But I'm tired and I should try for sleep.

Considerations.

At 26 you're supposed to be well equipped, well informed and well on your way to becoming the adult you were intended to be:  A great contribution to society.  

At the moment, and many moments before this one as well, I feel as though my potential has been lost somewhere.

It's not at all unlikely that a person with the sort of upbringings (yes, plural) that I've have to use the nature versus nurture excuse on current behavior, habits, etc.  However, for me, it's just not an excuse ANYMORE;  I used that excuse in my teens and very early twenties.  I am a mother now, and WAS a wife to someone, this should at the very least qualify me in a very loose sense as an adult.  Which then it is appropriate to assume that these are no longer valid excuses for me.  Ushering in ones adulthood means leaving (at least SOME) childish practices to the past.  So, while I may have some ingrained tendencies from some of my childhood traumas, and so forth, using them as excuses for poor decision making now is nothing short of irresponsible.  So I don't.  What I DO have a problem with is blaming the current circumstances for my behavior, which again, is not entirely wrong.  Our environments do shape us, to some great degree.

It is my responsibility now as a mother to make better informed decisions and truly endeavor to change unhealthy behavior.  Many of my struggles that I currently face lie in this assertion.  I struggle with having the knowledge but not quite knowing how to enforce it with myself and police my own actions.  I am unsure if this is a part of "growing up" or if it is simply a byproduct of incessantly giving in to my urge for instant gratification.  Who cares?  It's a problem.  

My greatest dream in life, as it is with many I suspect, is to have a happy, loving and healthy relationship.  The reasons behind having this dream aren't purely self-driven;  I want my son to know things I never knew.  I want my son to know how to function in a healthy relationship, to be able to discern what IS actually healthy and what is not, to have the ability to decide without the confines of disfunction dictating his behavior.  As I hope it is with all parents, or at least the greater majority, I want my son to have a better chance at life than I ever did. 

The sacrifices are great, though.

For some time, while I've been on this journey (only recently seeming to move more swiftly) I've had the distinct displeasure of watching myself have to decide between his future or his present.  I know for his future to be as amazing as I'd like for it to be I have to have a lot of quality "me time," as mothers tend to call it.  I used to think it was because "baby" was leaving me depleted and I just needed to recharge, I've come to realize that I am simply depleted and was long before he arrived.  I give to him the necessities, and more, but not what I know I am fully capable of.  However, it's imperative that the free time I do have is spent nurturing the soul that I lost somewhere.  Maybe it was in the 4th grade when I "sold my soul" to the devil during a physical education work out involving many long laps around the blacktop "track."  Who knows?  But I did lose it.  Maybe I did not lose not all of it, but that force that is suppose to guide someone has long since been indiscernible amongst the chaos in my mind.  I have made many, what I consider, virtually unforgivable mistakes in my lifetime (although I know they are forgiven through Him).  I have compromised what I believed were scruples to get my instant gratification and inevitably ended up in a place where I was left with nothing.  The time came for me to decide whether to sacrifice some straightaway happiness (which is essential to his growth) or possibly sacrifice the rest of his truly cognizant life and his ability to know happiness then.  I chose now.  Maybe I chose now for simple reasons such as his memory not being "all that great" with the hopes that he wouldn't remember any specific instances of not being particularly doted on as a mother might-should (southern colloquialism...I think it's cute.)  Or maybe I really believe that with overcoming the issues I have now I'll be better prepared to deal with whatever damage I do now later.  Or maybe both.  One can only hope.

It is my belief that one can only do what they can in any given moment, which is always their best.  Even if that "best" doesn't measure up to what most would do...it's still all one might truly know to do in that moment.  Here's hoping that my best counts later.

And as I hear the pulse of death approach I sigh.

I didn't know that this was the fruit of such laborious efforts.  Somehow, someWHERE, I acquired the belief that it all meant something and that life--yes this life--had just rewards for those who sacrificed, bled, and loved.  Somehow I was inclined to think that I, too, would be included in the gaze of favor and I would feel that warmth.

Instead I lie awake nightly whispering softly my hopes for eternal rest.

My questions cease.  My longing snuffed out like a candle flame.  My hopes are truly all that have been put into an everlasting slumber.  They have been lulled by carnage, war, and silence.  

Silence is...silence is the reaper.