I cannot both break the wall and simultaneously protect others.

That’s why I don’t break the wall; it’s the habitual way to protect.

Monday morning I drove down to tell my sister about the job.

She was positive, said it would happen, she and my brother would. . .

She called Monday night, but she had her boyfriend there.

She called Tuesday night and was stunned at the messes that day.

She showed up last night, listened a bit and then talked about how far behind the 8-Ball she is.

My mother presses me for financials and then is upset I don’t engage.

I am upset that I barely made it through the day.  But there is no way to tell her that.  She doesn’t care about the details, rather she is just peeved that people don’t do what she tells them to do.

I can’t move forward when still bound and entombed.

But it seems to me the only way to get out is a smash through the wall.

And then I will be expected to clean up the mess, but I can’t clean up the mess if I am doing the running.

3 thoughts on “Broken”

  1. It’s really a classic woman’s conflict, encapsulated–in your usual sense of a marvelous image–smash the wall to be free but then feel compelled to clean up the mess rather than claim the freedom.

    Is it just guilt and training that leads so many women to react this way?

    Or is there a real value in that sense of picking up the pieces?

  2. Just for the record, TBB reminds me that it’s not my job to clean up the mess, it’s my job to break the wall.

    The mess will get cleaned up, she assures me, though, for a time it will be messy. The mess will get cleaned up without me.

    But, as years of asking for help to break out nicely has shown, no one else can or will break the wall. They can’t engage shattering the status quo until it is shattered.

    As TBB says, fresh from her big week, there is work to be done, and I am here to do it.

    And that seems to involve smashing walls and trusting that someone else will clean up afterward.

  3. Of course there is real value not just in the sense of picking up the pieces, but also in actually picking up the pieces.

    It takes a parent to keep a family together, and that has been my job since I was about six.

    There is real value in keeping things humming, and that is part of my heart.

    But dancing, well, part of my heart, too.

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