To start with. Have I ever felt safe?

Describing a situation a moment when I felt so safe I knew that nothing could move me away from that place in my mind.

That beautiful fresh and sunny morning, at 4 am. One of those unique moment when being light so early didn’t matter. West London, quiet, no traffic, three seagulls flying over our heads checking us out for left over after drinking food. Exiting this one in a life time for me really fun teachers’s party that started with a couple of Champagne glasses, at a wine bar in Putney and ended at one of the teachers s house eating a piece of delicious chocolate ashish cake. We got together like two magnets would when one is positioned standing at a positive side facing the other side that is negative and sadly, but maybe not, life turned those magnets around and soon after we walk the opposite direction. Prior to walking away from each other, when the party was coming to an end I offered him to finish our story at my apartment a few miles away from were we stood as we kissed and we waited for the red light to turn green, for us to cross over and find a black cab. Wishing for the red light to be stoke in motion and never turn green for that “sweet first kiss” moment to never end. Wishing for that perfect place I was in, while I was fully embracing this cocktail of feeling good chemicals rushing through my body, to never fade away. I felt safe, warm, worry less, free, timeless beautiful perfect, as if we were by the ocean taking our time to just be. Be in love. Not just in love with each other but in love all together.

Safe part 2

I am devastated actually let me correct this, a part of me is devastated with a coming event. Safe? No. 20 years ago…. says that part, I pooped out of my uterus, what looked like at a time a terrified then soon after sedated little person with no desire to be in this world, that has grown to be one of the ugliest young adult I have met in my life. A user, a manipulator who gets her way only by playing guilt on ppl close to her. Calling them out on their weakness and using those to belittle them and have them serve her to prove to her that they are not the ugly things she tells them they are.

Tomorrow it will 20 years and my parts have no desires what so ever to celebrate this day. Some parts do. But most parts don’t. Where is Self? The hardest thing is to keep the heart open and love a person who hates herself and destroys what I brought into this world. But most of all I am so absolutely livid the one person I thought I could try and please and win her approval for being her mother.

I scored zero out of twenty in getting my daughter s approval and now all I ever do is mostly not for her to validate my kind and loving gestures towards her but it is because I want too, because I can make that choice and because no other human being on this planet can give her the way her mother gives.

I went to the grocery store and shopped. The first gift I thought of was birthday flowers or a plant. I noticed a beautiful display of fake plants and I thought to myself “ this plants won’t die on her, she could leave them behind and throw them in the trash. Or sell them for drug money? Really?” Never mind she can do what ever she like with them I love the idea of having the choice to give or not and letting her make her own choice to keep or not. Close by I noticed a beautiful scented candle. Vanilla and honey. Sweet, I placed it in a small gift basket with some Ferrero Rocher and KitKats and Oui yogurt with a bottle of orange jus. Some croissants and brioche and bagel and cheese and pretzels and humus and more snacks and more food with a birthday card written to my daughter in French and address to room 44 at the Gables, that Bastiaan chose for her the previous night when he bought some kombucha so we could play card and drink happily. I drove to room 44 in the Dells with Bastiaan with four big recycling Walmart bags full of what could be for her, a gentle reminder that she is not forgotten and that she is truly loved. I get out of the car and I hear loud voices coming from where Kiki s room is I brought myself back into the car and told Bastiaan it sounds like Kiki s having an other fight with Chris. I close the car door look up towards her bedroom door investigate for whether or not it is safe to up and drop off the gifts. I soon notice that the voice came out of the room nexts to hers when a man walked out then leaned forward to ask me how can I help you? I replied are you the manager here? Yes I am and how can I help you he asked again? I am here to drop off a gift for my daughter s 20th birthday in room 44 I replied. Oh she s left, he went on pretty fast. She was picked up an hour and half ago by a silver car with a couple of ppl in it and drove off. You could leave those in the office with me to deliver to her when she comes back because I don’t want to open her bedroom door. I don’t know what she has inside but I d rather stay out of it. He knows. I thought. Yes I understand replied. One of my parts tells me don’t trust him he knows she s a junky no one respects junkies. He ll keep it to himself or maybe most of it. So I told that part how about we call Kiki and ask her where she is at maybe she ll come back anytime soon and we could wait and hand it in to her directly ? So I called her. While Bastiaan is having a conversation with the manager about all the renovations done to the place since new ownership, I am calling her through messenger then her cell line then I text her. I receive the following texts back. Pooping I’ll call you o. Back. Yeah right…. Of course you are. I m thinking disappointed. Then I receive her last line, a second before call her out on her lie. No happy birthday? That s why I m calling you….. then I send her a picture of the bags I was here to deliver, sitting on the floor of the motel office and one picture of our car parked right underneath her room so she doesn’t have to lie some more. I ended up giving all the food to the manager to hold for her, he said he would kindly place the bags in his big motel fridge, we greeted him and left. Part of me was so sad to not see the look on her “I am for ever stoke with this struggle of addiction” eyes lite up with some hope that tells her that the life we live in this world is not all about destruction and the presence of love can be uncovered. An other part was relieved that she wasn’t here, for us to not have to experience more conflict and hurt and rejection that she uses to protect herself from us thinking the thoughts she has of herself that are ugly and shameful rapped up in a bundle of rage and guilt. Not seeing her meant being safe and loving her at a distance. Not having to get involved in what is becoming a habit to her, which is to point out every single thing that makes her feel unsafe and use it to create a drama. Like the time when Chris spelled water on the bathroom floor and to punish him for what could damage the floor and get her into trouble with management she picked up his phone and has she cursed you fucking dumb shit, she threw his cell phone into the water. Did she feel some kind of inner reward or sick pleasure in taking away the probably only possession he has and destroy it. An other habit her addictive part has is destroying and trashing absolutely most everything that is either offered to her, her relationships, her body image, money, prestige, and so on. On our way back home I read this sweet and loving text I received from a friend of Kiki, to Bastiaan. Here it is.

Hi its Aspen. I’ve been thinking about you and I know you have to be hurting and worried day in and day out. I just wanted to tell you there is something called “Al-Anon”. It’s like meetings you can go to, made for family members who are affected by addicts & alcoholics. And just seeing what I put my mom through I feel your pain. I had to stop talking to kiki because I moved out to pennsylvania and she just makes me so worried hearing her, listening to what shes going through. Don’t feel like any of this is your fault or something you could have done better, because it is not you. It is something within her that she can hopefully come to terms with and get help. Remember there is only so much you can do…and don’t kill yourself trying to help kiki. You have always been a great mother to kiki and I hope you are doing okay. You and kiki will always be in my prayers.