This is a long one…
So I lied, or I just broke a promise. I told a good friend who encouraged me to continue this blogging process I would add another post when I had seen my student support worker…
That was Wednesday.
It is now Saturday. I sorry. 😦
But I guess, while it wasn’t as strong as my other voices of doubt, I had it whispered when I thought of it. And I know we all have them, lets not stay dawned on this point because we know where its going. You look upon something that is great and into which your mind has this sly little voice giving you reasons (I like to picture mine as a pitch black elf, small but harmful) why you actually shouldn’t, while at the time it may have consequences your ignoring and forgetting the reason why you need to do that deed. No matter how responsible or helpful it may be to do this deed that small voice still whispers and somehow, without your knowledge that little voice is louder than any reason.
You don’t do anything.
And it’s step brother comes back to tell you how stupid that was not to.
Anyway, my student support worker… I have two. Why? One is busy, and the other one isn’t… you get the deal. The one I saw today was the one I don’t see often, she shall be called C. C and I talked, we brought up my organisation issues, we worked on a time-plan for week by week, one part of me nearly sh*t bricks because discipline in a work sense frightens me, yes I said it, it does… am horrifically lazy. I also told her how foreign it felt that my projects weren’t as poisonous as they used to be, and that actually I enjoyed them… then told her that made me think I was making a far greater mistake in doing this… and I shouldn’t.
C smiled and told,d me in that firm voice of hers that I just had to continue.
And now am sitting here. Am not bittersweet. For once in so long, not thinking this course is a waste upon me, I won’t make it upon the wide world and I’ll be stuck in this family world were their mistakes that am afraid of making life are right before me, passing snares they bring up and hoping I don’t fall in them. That I can do something, the next day is something to awake to, I am not… nothing.
It took four years to get to this pit. To seeing my sister from the tenderly newly teenage, I saw the person I looked up get verbally abused by the man she loved on a daily basis, seeing someone I saw so strong so weak, crying down the phone to her boyfriend as he fired stone filled bullets at her down the phone, where my life became just the kids, her downfall, the ignorance of religion (Religion can be right in some senses however) that curses this family, the startling realisation that I was different from so many others of my race, that maybe its for the best I saw… then thinking it would however make me so alone…
I won’t lie I did think dark. I never self harmed, but I kept it in and that in many cases is much worse… It was a family issue I was told so it wasn’t anyone else business. But one day when I let the church I went to hear the little whisper, little pieces of the cake of how miserable it was, suddenly becoming the only one who wanted the problem gone and saw how it effected people, hurt them, hindered them. They helped as much as they could. They, like many other churches offered prayer and the bible for help. But that never did, prayed as I did in that religious cocoon I bound myself in. But never the less when one of the church member’s wives remarked how she wished me luck, I couldn’t help but let the façade slip slightly, I gripped her in a loose hold and cried. It felt great but I let go, I gathered up my tears and went about the same system for two more years and now we are me at this current time.
The now me realised that while this situation will not change unless others will allow it. Eg, my mother who prefers to argue with said man, spit upon the floor, scream insults. And while you can say its her daughter, its a classic example how a mother could act to the man who makes her daughter cry down the phone, but the issue is that this man was born in dysfunction. To him its a norm, we all know arguments will only bring him to a comfort spot. As well as my sister, and maybe me as well. Maybe if I had been stronger in telling her what I thought, but sometimes I look upon and find that she hides her real reason for really keeping him in contactable distance under the fact she wants her children to have their real father…
But in C using not many but firm words, the sting of these four years is finally going. Am telling myself that, that place near London isn’t just a misplaced dream, its not big but offers that retreat of the world and it’s spikes. C is one of those people you feel you have disappointed greatly when you come back with slacking results, and seeing as I have a problem of focusing on that task and completing it. I believe my meetings with her will be interesting…
whatisthisnormaluspeakof 