As I am approaching, finally, the date of the launching of my book. A feeling that is mixed with many different emotions and sensations. From the moment I realized the book was finally printed out, the stir of emotions didn’t stop. A mixture of happiness that is still blocked, but yet felt. Fear of failure regarding not having the book meeting the expectations of the people. Worries of what this entire new step is taking me towards. Expectations that are high and low. Dreams that are sneaking out of the locks of my suppression.
Amid all this, I am looking forward that date … embracing it with all my ability with hope and a horizon of a new opportunity in life.
I felt cared about in many ways as I posted about it on Facebook. I didn’t expect that people care or even bother to look at my timeline that is always filled with things.
But something was still blocking me from within. It might have become a habit to put all those restrictions on my feelings of happiness. Somehow I feel I have been tamed throughout the passing years of my life. In both my happiness and my miseries. There has been so many beyond my capacity of imagination and in many ways handling issues that I still feel overwhelmed by the idea of my ability to survive.
My survivals… a fact I still don’t know I can realize its presence.
To add up to my worries and negativeness perhaps, my “dear” ex-husband has as always to take the front seat of the show.
Sometimes I think this man is my destiny. His shadow overwhelms my reality no matter how far I get.
I feel the need to write to give myself an obligation towards my power of being strong. Of remaining stable.
I was as my usual naïve self; thinking that at some points in life this man may change into a more positive healthy human being. I guess all my readings on narcissism couldn’t serve or add up to my naivety or reduce any of it.
I was trying to capture this moment of the book. To feel the freedom of being able to have finally stepped out towards a new horizon.
Life has been difficult, challenging, but yet, it has been rewarding, my children, my studies, and my book.
To have him haunting me with his thick shadows even when I am way far away is meant to horrify me in many ways. As if he will never be out of my way. He manages to cause damages no matter how ineffective he is in his effect, but he gets to me.
It is true that I also try to make the best out of the worse situation, but each time, I feel it is the time I get some rest. To have things running smoothly and just enjoy a well given moment, he manages to sneak into his disturbing annoyance.
Of course, the book bothers him. I cannot tell it is the context because he has no clue but what he has built in his imagination. It is the idea that he has no control from one side, and that I managed to get out successfully somehow with a book that is pressing too hard on his nerves.
What bothers me is that he manages to get to us. To me. To the kids. And somewhere, as usual, he tells his version of his invented reality so confidently no one suspects him. Including the kids or me… even when it is a reality, he has no clue about it. Especially when it is our piece of reality.
I try to manage the situation kicking him out from the sphere of my mind and thought, and I get busy feeling sad about this area of controlled obsession that he always succeed in dragging us towards.
I was feeling sad thinking of all what he told the kids, the compensation he was making in having them make a choice between him and the book!!. He is so afraid of being exploited, actually believing that what he has been doing, what he did, is within his only control. He thinks that it’s him with the only story, and it is him with the right to say and do what he wants.
The book is in many ways me. My life, my experience, as much as it is in so many ways the life and lessons of many men and women with similar experiences. It is a story of patriarchal structure and its effect on each and every way of our living.
My writing of this today is only to serve one purpose, to break the fear he insists in enslaving me in.
Another moment of trying to liberate me, release myself from all the fears that lock me and prevent me from feeling free.