What I Don't Want To Say

I wasn't going to talk about this...


My moment of optimism and inspiration very quickly flew out the window, the next day in fact. What is it anyway? I mean... my life always seems like a roller coaster ride. Is it like this for everyone? Or is it just me?


I get so excited about about things, so happy on that uphill climb... the momentum builds, I hold my breath. Then I reach the top, but there is no reward. There is just a speeding sudden decline that makes my stomach swish up to my throat. Then the fear hits me. The bottom isn't as bad as I imagined it to be. It is bad, but somehow I forget it quickly, as then there is a short ride of just my hair blowing behind me in the wind and a minute to breath easy... then something awful happens again.... 


Yeah... maybe it's just me. 


I'm still writing in my head. I guess that's a good sign. Ah ,but when I sit down to talk to you everything just shuts off, my mind goes blank, and I can't remember what I wanted to say... and I don't want to say what I remember.


So here's what I don't want to say.


I went to "visit" my daughter. I hate this. Hate is a very strong word and yes, I hate this. 


I want my daughter with me.


I wanted her to stay with Kay so that she would be safe.


For the first time in my life I was worried about her being safe with me, because I wasn't sure that I would be safe myself without having a home to go to. 


I haven't gone to see her too often. I haven't gone for many reasons. I've been working 12 hour shifts, so there isn't time on those days. There were days I've not been able to get a proper shower or bath or get my clothes washed.... I don't want her to see me (or smell me) being filthy. I want her to see me as "okay"... you know? I don't want her to worry about me... and... I have not wanted to face her... ending up being homeless is a very humbling experience... and yes, I want to be able to tell her everything is okay, everything is going to be good. I want to tell her something solid, something real. I haven't been able to do that. 


Wally and I went to see Danielle last week.


We were asked to sit down by Kay and Danielle. We need to talk. 


Danielle wants me to grant custody of her to Kay.


I tried to discuss it for a short while and keep my composure. I was pissed off. I was hurt. I wanted to cry. I didn't want to cry in front of them. (There were other people there.. a lady roommate and Kay's three small children) 


I came in tell Danielle good news. My income tax return came. We'll get a place. I have work until October. 
We'll move the first of March. I'll be on my feet again... She tells me that the bottom line is that I need to "prove" myself to her that I can support all of us.


Um..... WHAT??? ( I supported her rather well for the first fourteen years of her life... she had everything she wanted and then some... oh, except for the pony she wanted for Christmas when she was seven... sorry, no pony... yeah... the last 2 years have been the pits.. I haven't been able to afford anything. Doesn't she know by now that if I would give it to her I could?) 


I wanted to leave. I was asked not to leave, not to run away like I always do. 


Run away like I aways do. 


WHAT???


I've never run away from anything in my life. I always seem to get hit in the face with a shovel before I can even turn to start to run. I have always HAD to face everything head on. What the heck IS this?


I'm told that I've been inconsistent. I'm told that I have not been supportive to Danielle in her aspirations. She'a had too many responsibilities put upon her at too young of an age.  


I felt like I was being kicked while I was down. My heart shattered. Tears started. My voiced raised at times. I was too weak to defend myself. The kids scattered. The roommate left. Tears were flowing now.


I guess this is what they wanted. 


They wanted me to show that I care by behaving like I'm some kind of a boob. 


A weak sniveling, teary wreck.


The worst part is that I couldn't even think straight enough to defend myself with things like this.... 


Inconsistent? I don't think so. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. Yes, in my former life in Florida my ex and I had problems with being consistent. Jake would often have unrealistic expectations of the kids and completely ridiculous punishments that I would have to alter... it was all wrong, wrong, wrong... but it was what it was... 


I have always encouraged Danielle with her interests, her sports, her music, her art, her writing... I've read her writings, I rented her a violin, I went to her games, I spent hours searching up wheels and gear for her inline skates for speed skating trying to order just the right thing. 


Responsibilities? I really do not think that I've asked anything too hard from her. Her main responsibility has been to go to school and do well. I have not asked for anything else. I've told her that her school is her "work" and that is what she has to concentrate on now. 


I've always felt that I would've done better, been able to continue my education if I hadn't been so hindered by helping my mother with her drapery business. At the same time, I do not regret it. My mother taught me how to work hard. I just wasn't able to continue with college after my scholarships ran out because I couldn't swing a loan. My parents hadn't recovered from divorcing yet and neither had enough credit to help me.


I have this guilt thing going on about wrecking Dani's life because I divorced Jake and ruined everything for her... so my own little mind says I should give her a break. 


I have not asked her to do hardly any household chores since the divorce. (she was 11 then, she is 16 now)  No laundry, vacuuming, dusting, picking up, no washing dishes... We asked that she rinse her own dishes and put them in the dishwasher and to take out the trash and recycling. 


The thing is.. I want her to have it easier and better than I had it... and she has... I have made sure of it. I'm just not done yet. 


As the conversation with Dani went on I realized that she really didn't want to hurt me. She just wants...


She wants to feel safe...


I know how that feels. 


I want to feel safe too, if she can just believe me. I have never lied to her.  we will be safe again.