|it took someone even more flawed..
||[May. 16th, 2008|09:59 am]
but the most trival of mundane facts
|[||times new roman
i havent talked to my mother in almost 2 years. most things she has said to me i tend to block out. but for all of my life i have retained one specific story she has told me. its one of the few endearing things thats ever come out of her mouth, god, buddha &robert downey jr bless her soul.
my mother always said i was a good baby. pleasant, quiet, easily entertained & bubbly...
she said that this was always such a blessing due to the fact that my father & her nearly hated eachother..
i also knew that she secretly thanked her lucky stars that i was well behaved due to the fact that she herself was still a child & even now at 41 years of age..she still is very much so little girl lost.
my mother said that i was an unusually curious baby though. unfortunately, i always happened to be curious about things that i just typically should not have been curious about. one of these things that i was ever so fascinated by was electrical outlets. for weeks my mom said that every day when she'd wake me & let me roam our home the outlets were the first thing id gravitate towards and everyday shed point me in a new direction to distract me & shed scold me about how i should stay away from them - they would hurt me. she said i always seemed to understand, but the very next day id be right back at it. literally this went on for weeks at a time till she got so frustrated with me that she kept her mouth shut one morning and just watched me as i routinely went towards my favorite fixation. i reached it paused in front of it and turned my head around and looked at my mother questioningly like i didnt understand why she hadnt stopped me yet. my mother says she pursed her lips and crossed her arms and said nothing to me and we just stared at eachother, baby vs. mother locked in this death stare of challenge and rebellion. eventually i broke our stare, brought my attention back to the outlet and as you would imagine, immediately stuck my finger in it.
i was shocked, figuratively and literally. i cried & cried & screamed & screamed. my mother tended to me, but made sure that i understood exactly what happened & how i essentially brought whatever pain i was feeling on myself.
i never touched the outlet again.
i find this story to be entirely metaphorical for my life. except i touch the outlet quite a few times before i realize anything.
i am hard headed and sometimes hard hearted. i still have yet to learn how to be good to myself, how to just listen to the warnings...'dont touch the outlet, its gonna hurt you & youre gonna feel silly in the end'
i cant even trust my own good advice to myself. school of hard knocks represent.