A Prologue

Somewhere Between Curses & Dreams

I found my reality

The following was a homework assignment from a 9-month course I’m taking — write the prologue that closes the chapters of the past to begin the story of the next 10 years of my life.

To put my past into one story is impossible. There are many, many layers, and I am still peeling them back. I find it is best to focus on the big picture.

I once believed that I was cursed.

Haunted by an unforeseen, malevolent force who loved nothing more than to watch me suffer.

Despite my lack of understanding of the creature lurking in the off-limit corridors of my mind, I tried to control it.

I have worn a thousand masks to hide the ineffable entity. Under each new dawning of another false identity, the unacknowledged spirit grew harder to contain.

Imagine trying to put chains around the sky to keep it from being present. You cannot hold back what yearns to be known.

Whether it was in hopes of impressing my parents, for relation in communal exchange, or within desperate attempts to grasp the fleeting lights of attention — my efforts were left unrequited.

I wore out all the versions of the human I had thought to be “the one.” The unforgiving mold of my existence the world wanted. All of these falsified versions of myself were mere delusions.

My delusion.

There was a little voice I had silenced over the years. It knew I didn’t want any of the shit I had tried obsessively to obtain.

Numbing myself to the point of believing that what ailed me was caused by an ongoing existential nightmare — I had almost given up hope of ever waking from it.

It's funny how the problem is rarely ever what it seems to be. The ineffable entity I felt so cursed by was my undiscovered Will.

After years of relentless silence, Life asked me again — “Why are you still here?”

Life seemed surprised when I hollered back— “Because I ain’t finished with you yet.”

And in this moment I gained the nodding approval of the universe.

I am a rather stubborn person. When all is at odds in my corner of the world, come hell or high waters, I’ll come out a better version of myself for going through it.

I know this to be true from personal experience. However, what is unique about my past, is that I have had confirmation from outside sources — from two dreams I didn’t have.

One came from a dream my mother had before I was born. It took her almost thirty years to tell me about it, but 2020 was the year of firsts.

But first, a backstory of young love, scandal, and uncertainty

My mother was about 4 months pregnant before she knew I was on the way. I always had a niche for being the element of surprise, even in the womb.

Her hopes for children were very low thanks to her doctor's negative insight on the matter — I am also living proof that doctors don’t know everything.

My parents had only known each other for a very short 3 months. Both were recently divorced and had met each other in some old country bar.

My mother was the childhood friend of two brothers who later became famous country music singers, John Michael Montgomery, and Eddie Montgomery. At the time she met my dad, she was one of the backup singers in their band.

She was my dad’s honky tonk angel, so to speak. It wasn’t love at first sight, but there was a mutual connection. Just as quickly as they met, the shit hit the fan.

Terrified of what their religious families would say about having a baby out of wedlock, they eloped. Mom quit the band. Then they hurriedly told everyone of their new, unexpected arrival.

My mom knowing that she had partied hard for 4 months as I lay waiting for my time to shine, had become very worried about the possible damage she might've done.

Maybe this is how my god-like tolerance for substances came to be — joking.

Drama followed my presence around before I took my first breath, so excuse me for trying to make light of a pretty heavy situation.

Now, eight months pregnant with her first child, in a mouse-infested home my dad and his ex-wife had once shared — my mother’s stress levels were at an all-time high.

Until she was visited by her grandmother — in a dream.

Dream #1

In Mom’s dream, her grandmother who had died when my mother was very young, gently woke her. Her grandmother sat at the end of the bed, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Sporting the biggest smile across her face, cheek to cheek.

She went on to tell my mother that she had nothing to worry about, as far as I was concerned. I was going to be just fine and I was going to do great things in my life.

She then told my mother that I would eventually figure it out, this part plays an important role for later in the story.

She was the woman who I had never met but was named after — all due to her reassuring dream.

As my mother revealed this dream that never left her memory, I saw the tears almost leap from her eyes as they fell. Something I didn’t see very often from her, that's how I knew it was all true.

It was nice to have had that emotional moment with my mother. There weren’t many we had shared before then.

Even though I was left with more questions than answers, I have this dream and this moment with Mom, to hold on to.

Dream #2

Dream number two came from my great-grandmother, who went HOME in January of 2023.

One of my last memories with her was her telling me about this dream.

In her dream, we were having a get-together at her house, even in her sleep she was hosting a house full. I still remember what she had to say about it.

“ Blake, I was busy doing somethin’ and then I heard a voice say — …Well look who it is… I turned and saw you through the front door, dressed in this perty, white dress. You looked like a glowin’ angel, honey. And I felt so at peace when I saw you, but you were different… I don’t know how to explain it, you just seemed different. But it was good.”

Regardless of what her dream meant, I knew it was important enough for my great-grandmother to bring it up. And I am forever grateful that she did.

I owe so much to my great-grandmother. She was the one person who never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself.

It brings me comfort to know that my elders, in this life and the afterlife, are at peace with who I’ll eventually turn out to be. I know however the rest of my story unfolds, I already made them proud.

All I ever wanted was to make someone proud of me and I found out I had already done so just by breathing.

A quick timeline of life moments

I have lived many lives under the scope of my 32 years on this Earth and I have written about most of them already. Here’s a little timeline to catch us up.

~The girl with imaginary worlds where she felt free to be herself.

~The storyteller of The Barn. The one who entertained her great-grandparents and their friends while they stripped tobacco to earn a living.

~The victim and survivor of sexual assault and abuse.

~The teenage mother — who rode the bus every day to school, with her baby by her side, in hopes of graduating on time. (and I did, by the way.)

~The bartender who listened to others vent about their day. Served patrons with a cold brew and a reason to be cheerful, even when she hated her life.

~The drug addict who found a better life.

~The woman who found out “the one” was a past lover, who stands beside her and her kids in the present.

~The girl who lost her religion grew into a woman who found spirituality in the darkest hours of her life.

~The self-taught Tarot reader and Astrology enthusiast, who somehow gathered a whole community together when the world was at its loneliest era.

~The woman who became a writer, without having a previous plan of becoming one. It was just a beloved hobby of hers — to write and tell stories.

Now we find ourselves in my current moments.

As you can probably tell, my entire life has been a string of many unforeseen events where I have had no choice but to“figure it out.”

My best ideas have risen from having to think on my toes.

Plans normally bring false hope to an outcome that may not be what is best overall and have led me to unnecessary disappointments.

Only because I have never planned anything that didn’t already have someone else’s plan for me in mind.

Going forward, I now see the big picture for my life’s direction and the next ten years will outline my Magnum Opus.

To be continued…

Cheers to the fallen but not forgotten, © Anna V. — Febuary 22, 2024

I was honored when Toni The Talker chose me to attend her 9-month course along with a diverse class of phenomenal writers.

Although it was hard to navigate at first, I was glad that she decided to make this writing exercise a part of her course. I had a few realizations I hadn’t come to before writing it out and I thank her so much for that.

I was happy to know I could share it with my readers.

As always, thank you for your time.