anunraveling

[anunraveling]

I quit my job and I can't stop crying.

[anunraveling]

Silence

One day, we were stuck at a red light. As always, I was lost in my thoughts. Far too adult matters weighing on my teenage mind. What to do what to do what to do. How long until I'd actually have to figure it out? Fear, worry, apathy always caged my tongue at this point. My voice was buried somewhere deep in my chest.

You looked at me, frustrated, and asked why I never spoke anymore.

I said nothing.

[anunraveling]

The Bird

I remember you driving me to work after a night of injecting poison in your veins in our shitty little motel room. For whatever reason, you decided to go around the beige strip mall to where the dumpsters were. Maybe you just wanted to take a weird detour or maybe you just wanted to remind me that I was at your mercy. A prison of my own doing, but how was I supposed to know?

I was running late and getting frantic. My restaurant job was our (your) only source of income and the only thing keeping me from having to face up to what I had done.

There was a grackle in the road. It was moving too slowly to have no been previously injured, or maybe the Texas sun was wearing it down. Regardless, you made a B-Line to it in your father's car. When you made contact, all I could do was stare. Unfortunately for the bird, it was still moving despite the blood pooling beneath it. I could only stare.

You decided it was your duty to put it out of the misery you caused in the first place. Suddenly, your foot stomped on the pedal. When I felt the car bounce over the bump of it's body, I felt bile rise in my throat. I swallowed it back and attempted to regain my composure. I couldn't cry. I couldn't show any fear. At what point would you find it necessary to put my out of my own misery I wondered?

[anunraveling]

A Woman's Work Starts at Birth

The very first time the burden of men's feelings attached itself to my back I was in elementary school.

My grandfather always drove me to school listening to his prized cassette collection in an old brown Cadillac made of heavy metal and sticky leather. I remember getting in my carseat, and, just before we would drive away, he would turn around and put a dab of his cologne on my knee. I loved the smell so much. Then we were off, Fleetwood Mac playing as I lazily watched the buildings pass us by.

My grandmother would be the one who picked me up from school, dutifully taking me to McDonald's when I was eagerly trying to collect all of the Hello Kitty Happy Meal toys. Then, Burger King when I wanted to get my tiny hands on those golden Pokemon Cards.

One day, I walked into our home after school and the air felt choked. I was far too young to understand why, but my body was alert. Though living with my grandparents was usually idyllic, they still used leather that left welts. I walked down the short hallway quickly trying to remember everything I had ever done and where I may have went wrong. As I neared the end of the hallway, where my grandfather sat in his chair watching what was likely either AMC or Fox news, he was silent. Though, I noticed his jaw tense. He said nothing, so I turned right and entered my room.

After an evening of my grandfather acting cold and distant and me fearing that I had done something that resulted in him rescinding his love from me, I learned what I had done wrong.

My grandfather spit out the words like acid from his tongue. I didn't say hi to him. It sounds so silly! Such a comically small transgression resulted in 6 year old me feeling like my only father figure had abandoned me.

After that, no matter how tired or how desperately I wanted to just go to straight to my room, I felt forced to find him and greet him.

Decades later, I wonder why he didn't just say hi to me if he wanted to hear my small voice so badly? Why does he never call? Why was I always guessing at what the adults around wanted and expected?

[anunraveling]

A blog dedicated to my suffering and letting my hurts be heard.

Heavily inspired by Carmen Maria Machado's In the Dream House, which has dredged up all the things I thought I could keep hidden away. Now I aim to let them out, and perhaps I'll find peace.