a cloudy haze surrounds me. its been with me since i can remember. 

a fog that restrains me and says “are you good enough?”

the past 3 years have been about transformation. 

can i succeed? am i a good person? 

what’s stopping me from believing in me?

from saying “i can”…

Phoenix is where I was reborn from the ashes I left behind.

I shed what I thought I knew about myself. Rebuilt my foundation. Challenged my thoughts and actions. Found love and forgot hate. Became a sponge for all things around me.

Phoenix is a place in my heart that will forever reside…

an old love.

a love that has honor, respect, and compassion.

a love that is real and true. 

a love that brings two people together in the toughest of times. 

a love that both partners thrive on and fight for.

what happened to old love?

the togetherness that people felt…til death do you part

i was 7 when i first realized my mom was different than all the other moms. my childhood was filled with chaos and eccentricity. i thought all moms brought home strangers to live in their garage, slept all day, and drank clear liquid that didn’t taste like water. it was “normal” for me to take care of her and my siblings. it wasn’t until i was 18 that i found out why my sister and i had so many vacations…she was in rehab.

i spent the better half of my teenage years hating, being ashamed of, and denying my mother acknowledgment. what i can not see or hear does not exist, right? anger and sadness filled me. i grew up motherless. while all of the other kids had a mother to love, care, and support them, i did not. my problems were left for me to take care of internally. i denied help for fear that if i acknowledged there was a problem it might be real. i turned to animals and television as my escape and i vowed never to be like her. 

im 24 now, haven’t lived with my mom in 12 years. haven’t accepted and forgiven her for almost 15.

until now. 

i finally see her for her. not all of her mistakes, shortcomings, and lack of mothering skills. it has taken a very long time, but i now see her as a person; not the mother i so dearly wanted her to be. 

the person i see before me is troubled. troubled in a way where it is out of her control. at the age of 14 she had a surfing accident and ended up with metal plates and pins in her head. for the last 30 years she has been masking this mental disability with alcohol and drugs thus making people forget the real underlying problem. about a year ago she was diagnosed with the mental capacity of a 14 year old. 

it took a very long time, but i now accept and love my mother for who she is. i have torn down the walls i once put in place to protect myself from disappointment and a hurting heart. 

my mother is different and eccentric. she is an alcoholic and has a very addictive personality. she has a very jaded past and has burnt many bridges.

nontheless, she is my mother and i can finally say that with a smile on my face and a warm tingle in my heart. 

i was searching through some of my old school work from sophomore year in high school and stumbled upon this essay of a night in my past…

It all started with a typical day at my mom’s house. My mom was in her room drinking and Billy, her boyfriend, was in the living room watching television. There was a lady, Yolanda, who had been living with us for the past couple of months and already my mother loathed her. My mom thought that Yolanda and Billy were having an affair. Which even to this day, I do not believe.

            I was watching television with my medium sized black lab puppy, Taro, while my little sister was asleep. It was around 6 p.m. and all I could see was the lights from the television filling the room. As I flipped through the channels, I could hear my stomach growling. I walked to the kitchen, passing my mom, who was passed out on her bed, and Billy snoring on the couch. As I made my way to the refrigerator my feet felt like ice cubes. To my surprise Yolanda was also hungry and was getting herself some dinner too. We started up a conversation and she told me this crazy story about how the police had just come to the house because they had received a call about spouse abuse. However, when Yolanda went to go get my mom, she denied everything. As she told this to me I was in awe. However, I realized that this kind of stuff had been happening quite often. After I made myself a hamburger, I traipsed back into my room and ate my dinner.

            An hour had past surfing the channels when I heard my named being called. I ran to Billy in the living room bumping into a bright light shining in my face. It was a flashlight that a cop was pointing directly into my eyes. The second I noticed it was a police officer my heart started to pound and what felt like a breeze was actually my skin rising in goosebumps. They asked me if I had heard any strange noises or if I had seen Billy abuse my mom. I told them that the only noise I heard was Billy’s snoring. I knew my mom was lying to the police. When I told the policemen that my mom had been drinking, they said they could tell when they were talking with her privately. The police left the house with a warning and told us not to call again. I could see that my mom was seeking revenge on Yolanda and Billy. I remembered that my mom had told me that she was going to put Billy in jail and she wanted me to go along with it. I just couldn’t today or any other day. After the police left, Billy asked me if I could sleep in the living room for the night along with him and Yolanda because he didn’t want mom to call the police again.

            I was scared, confused, and I had no clue what to do so I said yes. I hurried to my bedroom and reached for my pillows and my down comforter, and brought it to the living room. We huddled on the living room floor together trying to get as warm as possible. In order for us to calm down we would make jokes about the situation. The next thing I knew my mother stomped into the living room and started yelling saying, “I hope you’re happy with what you just did. I am going to call the CPS on you, and then you will have to live in a foster home. You know what Pauline? I spit on you.” Then she actually spit on me. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. The tears just wouldn’t come out. I know my mom couldn’t possibly mean those things. Could she? I couldn’t bare to look at her. The seconds that passed by felt like minutes. I felt as if the world had come to an end. I kept on asking myself, “Did my mom really say those things to me? Was it even my mom?” I remember Billy telling me that I shouldn’t let it get to me. But how could I not? My mother just said that she didn’t want me anymore.

            After she had said what she had to say, she stomped into her room and slammed the 150-pound door, which was held up by just one hinge. I heard a loud scream and at the same time an earsplitting boom! The door had fallen just two inches shy of my feet. I was puzzled by all that had just occurred I didn’t have time to think. I heard the screaming again and it was coming from my mom’s room. It turned out that she had cut her finger while slamming the door shut. I could see her from where I was sitting. She was seated on her bed, which was very messy, looking at her bloody finger crying for help. She sounded so helpless that everything inside of me felt like it was being stabbed. I wanted to jump up and bolt over to help her, but for some reason I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. It felt like I was glued to the carpet floor.

            As I was sitting there looking at her I thought that this night just couldn’t get any worse. Surely enough I was completely wrong. I heard footsteps getting louder and louder, when I looked up my mom was right in front of me pointing at me and she yelled, “I am going to kill you, each and every one of you. I hope you all go to hell!” When I heard those words my heart almost stopped, and shattered into little pieces. I felt as if all had come crushing down on me. I was in complete shock. I dropped my head slowly and sank into the covers wanting to burst out in tears, but for some reason I didn’t. I knew I had to stay strong for everyone around me, like my sister. All of a sudden I heard shuffling of things coming from my moms’ room. I sprung off of the floor not knowing what I was doing. A rush of adrenaline had run through my body and I grasped my cell phone, as my soul almost leaped from the highest peak of a mountain, and dialed 911. I was yelling into the phone “My mom just threatened to kill me, please help!” When they asked where I lived I didn’t say anything. I had forgotten my address. The lady said to wait until the police got here. “WAIT!?” I thought to myself. How could I wait in a time like this? Then I heard those footsteps again and they were getting louder and louder. I frightfully looked up and there she was stomping out of the house with bloody a towel wrapped around her finger. The police came about 15 min later and they suggested that we get off the mountain. That way mom can’t cause us any more problems. As much as I wanted to I couldn’t because Billy had work the next day. I asked the policemen if they could look for my mom and maybe put her in jail for a little while thus she can realize what a fool she has been and how many peoples’ feelings she has hurt. The police kindly said they would look around, and that they couldn’t guarantee anything. Then, they left.

            After a moment of me pacing around the house trying to figure out what was going to happen next we decided to try and sleep. We once again all huddled up on the floor of the living room. I knew I couldn’t sleep I was simply too shaken up. I decided to turn on the television and when I did I realized that both Billy and Yolanda were dead asleep. When I looked at my watch it was already 2 a.m. The last thing that I remember was asking myself, “Was all this for real or was it clearly a dream?” Even to this day I still find myself asking that same question.

To this day it seems a fuzzy moment in time that i will never forget…

why are there no concrete answers to questions concerning ones journey? big decisions lie ahead. and while i know no matter which path i choose, i will always be going in a direction of fate. one question remains. which path will be more fulfilling? a song comes to mind…”should i stay or should i go?” i have made many big decisions before and have never regretted a single one. have i out stayed my welcome in the land of the sand? have i learned what i needed to learn? will i miss out on something life altering by moving? 

it all comes down to one sentence…

follow your heart.

i have never once denied my heart, i have always let it guide me. its waded me through lust, friendship, love, and brokenness.  

when i listen, it tells me, with every fiber in my being, to smile. and smiling it shall be. 

Dear friend,

You are an amazing individual. I am so thankful that our paths have crossed. We met in the most unconventional way and have had the most unconventional friendship. Together we soared through diverse spiritual cosmos, diving deep into our unconscious. The intellectual adventures have been enlightening and transcending. The silent night we shared was a big part of my transformation, it helped break down many walls I had left standing. Once they were broken, I was able to acknowledge and rebuild. 

Now, it is your turn to start anew. And a new adventure it is! Take in each moment, remember how they make you feel. This is what life is, a succession of feelings and thoughts. The goal to life? Make as many of those thoughts and feelings happy ones! :D

I wish you all the smiles in the world, along with all the spiritual guidance you need!

Listen, trust, and believe in the universe…

Your Friend,

P