Warning - I've been reading and greatly enjoying Anthony Bourdain's book (of the "No Reservations" show) "Medium Raw" and he uses in the most literary of ways, the word "fuck". This has inspired my sick mind immensely.
Yesterday I was reading Bourdain's book and it caused a question to stick in my proverbial craw this morning. In his book, Tony touches on his past self-destructive behavior, his bad boy image, and how that has all changed. His words (as a result of having a 2 year old daughter): "I most definitely give a fuck now. I give a huge fuck now. The hugest. Everything else -- everything else--pales." (Bourdain, A. "Medium Raw", p. 119, blah blah blah)
That got me thinking today. I am stressing out big-time about traveling in (2) 4.5 hour increments with my own daughter and navigating the time change. I've gotten a few Xanax to help get myself through this while also dealing with the first anniversary of my best friend's death. Okay, that's acknowledged.
But what the hell happened to that woman 10 years ago who decided she was going to go on a week long vacation in Mexico by herself without speaking the language? The one who was scared crapless to go para-gliding, watched it for 10 minutes, went to the condo for a shot of vodka and then bonsai-ed her way up in the air? Where is that fearless, fuck-it-all girl?
It's such a dichotomy (yes, that is the title of my blog) because part of me, a fragmented part of me, is still that person. The person who said "Bite me" to one of her clients (a cop) in front a room full of cops because he was purposely giving her a hard time to see if she could take it. The person who literally sent shit to the top three hypocritical, lazy assholes who smiled in her face as they twisted the knife in her back. The person who broke concrete slabs with her left hand while her right hand was in a cast, injured by breaking concrete slabs a few days before. Where the hell is that person?
I think part of the disappearing act is that before V. to a certain extent but especially since I., a new level of self-preservation has kicked in. Since that morning when I held her for the first time, I knew I needed to be there for her - to protect her, love her, raise her, comfort her, teach her. I couldn't have that same reckless, fuck-it attitude and corresponding behavior because I needed to make it back to her. Before, there wasn't anyone to make it back to, at least not anyone who I hadn't convinced myself would successfully move on and maybe even be better off without my presence. I can't convince myself of that with I. especially with how V.'s work life has been. This knowledge weighs on me. In some ways, the weight is not a bad thing considering my past behavior. This weight holds me down firmly to the foundation that my presence is of utmost importance, keeping me from any dumb ideas I may have. On the flip side however, this weight leads to the fear that something may happen to me while V. is gone and I. will be defenseless. It's the thing that nightmares are made of.
This past year (or three) has been filled with anticipation, fear, sadness, death, grief and anxiety. This is not how I want to live my life. More importantly, this is not who I am or who I've been at least for the last 15 years. Mark's death shook me to the core - I'm not afraid of dying so much as I am just so cognizant that it could truly happen at any time. Most of the anxiety is due to that enormous sense of responsibility to protect I. I would without hesitation lay down my life in order for her to continue living. With the prospect of her and I travelling by ourselves to Puerto Rico, my anxiety does go up. I am anxious for the actual travelling, but I am also anxious for being the person responsible for protecting both her and I on our trip to and from. I. attracts a lot of attention due to her big blue eyes and her long, flowing curls. Yes, it's flattering but from a security standpoint, sometimes I wish she didn't stand out so much.
I'm really am going to try to change my mindset this next week from one concentrating on the unknowns and fears to "this is an adventure!" mindset. Not only will that help me, it's also communicating the type of attitude I want I. to have. I don't want her to be fearful, I want her to be adventurous. Yes, part of being a momma is to protect your young but I want to do that with fierceness rather than fear.
1 comment:
April, when I read your blogs I learn more and more about the deeper parts of you. Being a parent certainly does change things i.e. You just can't take the risks one takes when they are single and/or not a mom. Of couse I know about all the functional difficulties of traveling with a young child alone. What I didn't realize was the depth of how much you worry about something happening to I while traveling alone with her.
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