crowded mind

it’s one of those days
that i have too often
where i don’t see the point of my own species
misanthropy moves deep beneath my skin
a part of me

i think about suicide
and my thought is,
“fuck the survivors. they had a chance to change how they treated her.
they had a chance to understand.
to offer help.
they had their chance
but now they curse the dead for dying
and bemoan their own pain.

‘if only i had known
i would have helped’
but you did know…
how could you have not known?
but, yeah
you might not have been able
to help.
it’s hard to fight the demons
that chew at a brain
a heart
a soul…leaving you empty inside.”

i think as i do the dishes
make the breakfast
knead the dough
wipe up the messes
realizing once again
that my children are innocent
and cannot be left unattended
in this fucked up world

“well, there goes that escape,”
i say to myself.


no sylvia plath for me.


it’s funny, exhusband#2 accused me of–well, i’m not sure what–he insinuated i was up to no good because i checked out some sylvia plath writings & biographies. i’m not sure what he was accusing me of.
“i’m doing research,” i told him. “i reference her all the time. i think i should make sure i’m not being reckless with my references.”
what was he accusing me of?
being suicidal?
researching my suicide via literature?
trying to be dark & depressed & desperate enough to stick my head in an oven?
is that something you would be nasty to someone about? their suicidal tendencies? but, i guess that is par for the course for exhusband#2.


i am so angry at him. mostly for not being the person i had convinced myself he was. the person i needed him to be.  for being an asshole when i needed a hero. the anger helps. it helps to keep me from reaching out to him when i am lonely.
which is often.
it keeps me from reaching out to him when i am desperate.
which is all the time.
it keeps me from convincing myself that things aren’t as bad…that he isn’t as bad as i know he is.

sometimes anger is good.
sometimes anger has a place.
a purpose.

8 thoughts on “crowded mind

Add yours

  1. I don’t know if it helps, but know that there are a lot of people who love and who would in fact want to help you. Myself included. Please don’t ever be afraid to reach out. I know the lonely and the bad parts of ourselves can be overwhelming, and that it can seem easier to just give up. But the world needs you, and we need to keep you in it.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. thank you. it helps me a lot to get it out of me. keeping it in is no good. i always get anxious though, sharing the darker parts of me. but it does help. thank you for listening.


      1. I don’t blog to get it out. I’m a bit ashamed of feeling exactly as you described – even though there is no reason to be… I think it is because of my social work background.

        I was feeling like that a few weeks ago. On and off all the time actually but desperately so a few weeks ago. I went into my room and started writing letters to my family…. I planned it enough to get some nice paper thinking that the kids could laminate it and save it forever …. sad huh. Anyway. I got to my last born – 4 years old – and I couldn’t write his letter. That snapped me out of that for a while…..

        Love to you. Never alone when I read what you write. Know that you are writing for me too (except for the fantastic art that I have no natural talent for at all!).


        Liked by 1 person

      2. i started writing obsessively when i was about 12. it is probably one of the things that saved me along with long walks in the woods & fields. while i don’t consider myself suicidal, there are times where i just don’t want to exist anymore. i’m not sure if there is a difference…
        the outcome is pretty much the same. yeah, my kids are sometimes the reason i don’t want to exist anymore–but they are ALWAYS the reason i decide to stay & fight another day.
        thank you for all your love & support! it so so so helps to know people like you are out there xxoo


  2. Can you do some special art for you and me Em? (and for many others)

    I want a picture of a phoenix. It applies to you as well …. .out of the fucked up ashes of our lives we will emerge as amazing phoenixes after the fire of shit we have had to deal with throughout our lives … whole intact peaceful graceful loving happy reborn phoenixes whose sadness and anger is left in the fire and ashes.


    Liked by 1 person

    1. i will.
      maybe that’s why i always find dragons in my art. because i often feel so consumed by fire.
      i need to get to a place where i am ready to embrace the phoenix energy.


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