awkward ass epiphany, per se.

& i aint quite got it yet …

but, as i was assembling my shit this morning (yes, as awkward as it sounds lol), i could hear little voices in my head. not the psycho-killer kind, but im sure they’re lingering lol … no, this was like an echo.

as i went to pick up the teacup (the one i posted a pic of recently), i could hear my head say: “dont break it”. it stopped me in my tracks & i felt my chest tighten.

i ended up having this longwinded fucking dissection – wait – dissection of thoughts go on for far to fucking long for my liking … with the upshot being, i drank out of that teacup, more out of defiance than anything else; whilst trying to tell myself that i was enjoying it because it was nans teacup & she’s dead now so this is like a cool little celebration of her …

ffs …

& there it was.

i had turned into some new age fucking guru wanna-be, who turned everything into a fucking teaching & learning moment.

what the fuck happened?

& another little echo in my head says: cos youre an idiot.

& that made me laugh.

it wasn’t a criticism to make one curl up in the corner & rock backwards & forwards: it was MY still inner voice, who i might add, is usually pretty on point, resilient & somewhat gangstah.

i get her.

& somehow or other i think i’ve stifled her. not just the long historical silencing *eyeball roll inserted*, but more recently, a sort of shushing, that i dont usually do.

so i picked up the teacup, a.gain, poured my tea into it & guess what?

the fucker broke.

thats right, the fragile fine china that nan had quietly collected for fucking years & i’d been to scared to drink out of, or even touch for that matter … it broke.

interesting turn of events:

i felt relieved.

cos even though it broke, the rest of the world didn’t break with it. & neither did i.

what nan couldn’t say when we were younger, was that she loved that china & she  didn’t want us to touch it, look at it, move anywhere near it lol, cos it was HERS & it was precious to her. instead, her only way of defending her turf was to say, ‘dont touch it, you’ll break it’, which is more a statement indicating that we were someway deficient. not just cos of this one incident, but because thats how our family related.

“dont do such in such … you’ll break it … you’ll end up dead … you’ll go to hell …”

feel me?

there’s no middle ground. theres no learning. theres no ownership. theres no responsibility.

theres no fucking care.

just defence.

& thats what i’ve internalised.

& now i know, i know better.

nan just wanted her own space. & so do i. i just want to do me, be me, without having to fucking apologise or justify it or reason it out or have some deep psychological reason for it.

i want to be able break a fucking cup, by accident or otherwise, & it be ok.

whew.


kpm ©


 

4 thoughts on “awkward ass epiphany, per se.

  1. Wow, such powerful images you made. I can hear my grandmother saying much the same thing…I wonder if that’s why it took me until I was 50 to learn to drive? Thanks for the secondary epiphany (I am going off to think about how words and attitudes we hear in childhood affect our adult life, even when they are relatively normal).

    • thankyou xx
      & they are aren’t they: hadn’t quite realised just how much they were so alive and well in my head!!
      & that sounds interesting re learning to drive & the secondary epiphany! good luck xx

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