It's 2am and I can't sleep. After much deliberation, I've decided to change Zoko's school work method. Why? Because the current plan just isn't working for me. The idea is I'm supposed to type up everything for her, the worksheets and assignments. The problem? I have no motivation and totally lack the stamina to complete said tasks. So, effective immediately, her work is back to being hand written. Yes, I am well aware that this will take up more paper and may need slightly more time on my part, but some how it equates to less work. Or at least less work that I argue with myself over getting motivated to accomplish within a desireable amount of time.
And now comes the problem. I'm back to one of those moments where I question everything that I'm doing with these kids and wondering if I've made the right choices. Not in the core fundamentals of their lives, but rather in me being the one to partake in this journey with them. While I have never doubted their ability to be something great and wonderful, and the sheer force they may someday bring into this world, I constantly challenge my own authority on being the one to lead them on this journey.
I know I'm not the best parent out there, and I know they deserve better than I am. And I do not know how to give this to them. I so far have drained every capacity of my being in order to strive for something more, so they can be more than I ever was, and will ever amount to. And I do not know if it is enough. How do you ever know if you've done right in this life? We never know what time we have, or who we'll end up being, but how do you decide if your place here is truly what other people deserve for it to be? Could they be better suited to be with someone more understanding, more knowledgeable about the decisions made for the future? I don't know.
The hours I have spent pondering this, the nights I've lay awake crying over the past that cannot be undone, and it gets me nowhere in the end. This will probably make no sense to anyone reading it, and maybe it's not supposed to. Suffice it to say that my head is a messed up place that even I don't want to venture into most days. Why the friends I have choose to stay around in this chaos known as my life, I will never know. I don't know what it looks like from the outside, how people make sense of the circles my life spins through. And the more I try to grip onto your reality, the more mine gets confused. I want to be something else, and I don't have a clue on where to begin. And yet this is still me. The dreams are still there, pushed deep below the surface, waiting for me to beckon them back into daylight. And it scares me. Because I know the power of these dreams. And I know that someday I won't be able to fight this anymore. I only hope that by the time that day comes, this world is too faded to even try to understand it.