I Fought for You

I'm lucky lately when I don't go immediately back to bed after giving a morning stroll to the kitchen for some water or healthy wake me up snack. I'm a month and a half pregnant, scared, insecure, and experiencing chronic depression which I previously thought not possible. I thought my darkest days had been left long ago in the streets of beautifully polluted Los Angeles.

I was wrong. That darkness, that gut wrenching pain, that out of control lost feeling is back, and I am fighting everything and everyone like a cat clawing its way out of drowning waters. One day, I literally felt like I was drowning in hell with no one to turn to. Like what it might feel like to watch your child be murdered in broad day light & your screaming for help and everyone sees you, but no one does a thing to help. Ya, that's how I felt a couple weeks ago, but about myself. I'm still recovering from that day with scars to prove what I am going through is deep enough to penetrate all layers of my happiness and hope. I've been searching for the lesson in this all... feeling paralyzed with fear and exhausted with anxiety. There's people screaming they love me, but it sounds like the quietest pen drop muffled by my resentment that I am even going through this.

I have everything good in my life I thought i'd never have. A really handsome brave man trying to love me, my chance at stopping the cycle of abuse in my family, a college degree, a loving relationship with my daughter....yet my self destructive patterns show their true colors again. This time with vengeance.

Tonight I dragged my gloomy ass to a restorative yoga class once and for all with the intension to be unified with God. I felt my heart calling me home immediately as I placed the eye covers over my face.

On my way home, I was driving hearing my own thoughts. I thought to myself, "jeez, I don't even know what it feels like to feel loved. Have I felt loved before? I must have; it's just been a while I've been depressed that I can't remember." I was searching my memories of feelings trying to remember what it felt like to be loved, and I was having such trouble jogging that feeling. Until all of a sudden, my voice said so loud and strong and clear, "I LOVE YOU ROBIN. THAT'S WHY I AM STILL HERE FIGHTING FOR YOU."

It was strange. Had I thought that thought & then told it to myself or was it God? I don't know, but I felt it like a ton of bricks made up of truth. I thought to myself whoa, that speaks to me. I know what that means... and its right. Something inside myself loves me so much that throughout my whole chaotic, traumatic, beautiful, ugly, crazy life, something keeps putting up the fight for me. Something drives my ass to a yoga class, or a nut house, or a therapist. Something empowers me to overcome addiction, bulimia, society's ridicule of my exploitation. Something stopped me from taking my life more than once. Something keeps me hanging on to hope because it believes in my freedom & happiness. That something is inside of me, and even if I can't feel the love of anything else... I can know and feel that love I have for myself to keep fighting for my life.

This time my strategy is not violence, but to make friends with my demons and see what the mother fuckers wanted from me this whole time.

Like a Warrior Goddess.

What makes a good Mother?

Some of us are naturally drawn to children and mothering leaving the rest of us wondering where this domestic gene came from and why didn't I get it. It's not fun to me to stay home and cook and clean and change diapers. Well at first it was because it felt like playing house and izzy and I were exploring this game together... Until shit got real!

Nights awake crying, college deadlines, welfare deadlines, dating nightmares, lack of sleep, and of the most challenging... Facing childhood trauma when I look into the face of my hysterical child feeling ever ounce of terror I used to feel as a child. I have worked so hard to learn a healthier way to nurture my child especially through difficult times. But when the rubber hits the roAd I gotta tell you, I tend to  fall apart Inside. I sometimes loose my temper and fear I am the monster I've been dedicated to shielding her from, I shame myself for being ill equipped to be a mother, I tell myself I'm damaged and I can't do it. In those moments I feel devastated like I've failed my life's mission by breaking down when she needs me. But this is the dance. The dance through trauma, the dance through life. I pick myself up off the ground, usually after calling a trusted friend or my soul mate, and I do my very best to nurture the after math of a storm. I hold my daughter and validate her feelings, I admit my wrong within minutes, we make a plan of how to support each other better the next time and we express love. That's the best I can do wit this healing heart of mine. I still try to run from the voice that tells me I'm not a good mother and never will be... But as I wrotea one page summary of my life yesterday for a friend who does documentaries, it hit me like a ton of bricks of why everyone says I'm a good mother and how I know it's true. I voice texted this revelation to myself as I cried and it goes like this...

"I'm a good mom not because I'm supposed to be looking good on the outside and well from all my past but I'm a good mom because I love my daughter so much that throughout this pain I never give up on her or myself. I'm a good mom because it hurts so bad and it's so hard but I don't stop. I'm a good mom because I care so much. "

I will hold this revelation close so I'm ready for the next obstacle as a parent and as a warrior. 
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