Cost of Freedom

 what-does-it-takes-to-be-human“I just cant imagine myself in shackles, following his lead, his guidance, his eyes trained on me. I wanted to be wrong again, I wanted to make some mistakes, I wanted to learn, I wanted to rise, I wanted to live.”

What does it really mean to be free? What does it really take to be yourself when you already have two kids and individuality is something you should scrap from your list? They say, get yourself a good husband, form a happy family, get a stable job and you will live in peace, you’ll be truly happy. What if life itself is more than that? What if you cant wrap your head with that construct?

In my opinion, you still need your individuality, you still have to claim yourself even when you are journeying motherhood. Especially when you are journeying motherhood. Every values, every care, every happiness, every love that you will give to your kids and to everyone who surrounds you will come from within yourself. When you are truly free and happy, that is the only time that you are capable to give the quality of love that you can truly give. It will radiate from you, its glow will touch your kids. Quality of life you aspire will grow from there. Happiness in its utmost authenticity.

Right now, for almost a year… I’ve tried my best to settle down and be happy. Be happy with the blessings that I have, with the husband that I have. But that’s not the case, I am not happy and I wanted to break free. Pushing this thought aside every single day for a span of a year is draining me, driving me crazy, turning me into a bad person filled with guilt and silent rage, one who cant give anyone a genuine smile, a genuine love and genuine care, including her self. I tried several ways to overcome, I tweaked my emotions, my way of living, I’ve been depressed, I shut myself, I tried to open myself, I tried to eat healthy,. I even blame the pills I am taking, but I remained depressed. Is this an act of selfishness? Yes, I suppose. But I am not truly happy. I have to grant myself the freedom to find that happiness and to realize the person in me, my individuality in order to be a productive mom, in my own way. In my own way.

But what will that cost me?

What do I have to give up for my own freedom?

What do I get in exchange?

I have to leave my husband, my ever loving, supportive husband. My husband who has nothing in mind but to love his family and plan the future with me. My husband who’s been with me for 7 long years, and hasn’t given up on me, during difficult times, during extreme mood-swings, during my breakdowns. My husband so perfect and yet I still couldn’t love him.

Whats wrong with me? I do not know. One thing is for sure. I have to break free from it and start from scrap. I just cant imagine myself in shackles, following his lead, his guidance, his eyes trained on me. I wanted to be wrong again, I wanted to make some mistakes, I wanted to learn, I wanted to rise, I wanted to live.

With him, I just cannot do it. Everything is carefully planned, which is a good sign, right? That’s parenthood all about. “But I am not happy. I dont want to be a wife anymore, I still wanted to be a mom of course, but I want to be truly myself. ” These thoughts are killing me.

All I ever wanted to do is live and see myself finally happy. Taking care of my kids. I cant be a mom in this kind of state. Overwhelming guilt and sadness is eating me alive. I’d like to picture seeing him happy and being loved by someone better. Him, treating the way he should be treated, and me continuously learning my lessons, through good or bad.

Is it that bad for me to choose the way I wanted to live?

I know, everything is not logical. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is what I tell myself.

Come on, frown upon me. I will get used to that.

 

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Grow Backwards

This is how adult life is.. running from point A to point B, back and forth, always rushing, always rushing to your next deadline, always a minute too late. You can’t waste time, but you always do. Of course, you do. When you were still a child, you always waste time, too. But you cannot say it’s wasted. You didn’t know it is,  your wasted time is full of bliss.

Can you remember how the world looks in your childhood eyes? Well, I do. I always do. I still can’t believe I have become like this. My younger self will be very disappointed. In my younger eyes, the world is vivid. I can still remember the scents of each apartment we moved to and from, their scents when they were still empty, their scents when I am about to fall asleep. I still remember the 5pm light, how the wind gushes through me while I am running, running as fast as I could, running under the pink sky. I still remember how I hugged my mom with all my heart. My eyes were so alive. Man, I was once full of love. Where that love went, I don’t know. When did I lose it, more so.

I guess, as you grow older, the love inside you fades, bit by bit, without you knowing. All the while, you keep your eyes on your purpose: to play your roles right, to reach for the next paycheck for your next payment. Running around keeping your emotions locked up. You know too well, you’ve ruined your life by setting them free. Through the years, your heart is being pierced through and through by disappointments after disappointments, shame, hatred, failures. You are running around your world with your own bloodshed.

A few years after, you’ve gone dull. Your eyes went tired, you have seen it all. You can see through people, you can see through bullshit, you’ve heard enough lies, you’ve said your fair share of them. You’ve spilled enough blood. You try to cheer yourself up, but you cannot fool yourself anymore. It’s a non-stop trail towards black and white.

Now looking back, I would do everything just to grow backwards. And when I do, I will cling to that child. I will never let go. I will wear her eyes, I will hold her love, I will be living, I will be alive.

6 Years of Downfall

“You’re right! I am turning into this horrible person. Maybe I already am. I am always irritated, agitated, aggressive.. I try to stay calm. Don’t you know this is exhausting? It exhausts me. I’m.. I am being a mom, I am being your wife. I am juggling these roles. It’s just that, right now, I’m tired, Patrick. I’m sorry, I’m tired.”

“Okay. What’s happening right now is.. you are mad. I annoy you, okay.. but now you are crying. Wha – oh no, no.” His sarcastic face is there again, he knows how much I hated it. “Let me guess. You don’t know why? You just feel like crying?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I am trying, god knows, I’m trying.” I am shaking now. Living with you is very tiring. I’m tired. I’m already tired. I fucking hate you and I am fucking exhausted. I wanted to add, but I know, its.. it is something someone gone cuckoo would say. He already sees me as one, but I cannot.. Of course I cannot say it.

He just shook his head. Oh, and that sneer.  He walked off in a huff.  Wish granted.

But, he’s right. It has always been like this. How pathetic am I in his eyes? He’s been with me for six years, he had seen it all. I have seen it all. Six years, is that enough to drive each other insane?

Then there goes the narrator of my life, the inner bully. He talks with the same arrogance as my husband.

This is what happens when you live with someone who crushes your thoughts, your belief system, the way you look at yourself, all the while, being loving and caring and responsible husband and father to your kids. A trophy partner you can show off to your relatives and friends, the trophy partner you secretly hate. Oh, you wanted to break free? How can you reason to his realism? You are a depressed, delusional. His logic is nothing compared to the fucked up yours. This is what happens when you merge yourself into marriage without fucking thinking, now, let your freedom fly and your soul rot, idiot. 

Have you ever felt this kind of hate? You’ve cut your own wings and now you are being mean, mostly to yourself. But you don’t want to show it, so it’s just deeply buried inside you. You don’t know when will all this stop. You thought, this hate will pass. It’s a part of every marriage. But no, it’s a downfall without a crash.

You can’t even describe it anymore, you can only feel it. There is this strong anger living inside your chest that you always suppress. You don’t understand it either, you can’t use your words right anymore. You try to reason to yourself, nothing is coming out. You just wanted to scream, to runaway, to stay still, to move, to sit, to dive…  You don’t even know what you want to do anymore. You don’t know what to do to make it go away. Hate, rage, temper, anger, you don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what it is, but you know it is planted inside you. A bad seed. It seeps, it stays, you can feel its roots, it is becoming you.

Truth is, you are a bad wife, a bad mother, and a bad person. Added the narrator.

Prison of Truth

(This is how you lose your youth)

You started to wonder, how you’ve lost your voice
Was it the day you ceased speaking?
Or was it the day you started repeating,
repeating the chant everyone else is saying

You’ve lost your point of view, honey, it was all you.
You are always ready to bend and mold,
To conform, and nod. To find the truth
From different set of lies laid in front of you.
You always choose whatever it is that can fool you.

For years, you’ve been complaining about your lost freedom,
For twenty-two years you have been living,
Six years spent grieving,
Every persona you wore were lined up in a shelf
Six fucking years, spent building a prison for yourself

The next time rage fill you,
While you clasp and shake and grip the bars that surround you,
Remember this, the only thing that can set you free
Is the very thing that confines you.