birthday drawing

once upon a time
my birthday was one of my three
favorite holidays
once upon a time
i would count down
from like six months away
telling an unwilling audience
every
day
how many days it was until my birthday
i never had a party
(tried once & nobody came)
i just would spend the day basking
In the glory of a day
that was mine…
then i married a man
who refused to celebrate me
then i had kid after kid after kid
and realized
no matter what day it was
i still was expected to be a mom
then my brother died
and i no longer got my birthday call
from  him
asking, “so what else is new,”
and actually listening to what i said….
once upon a time
my birthday was a glorious day
for me…
i want to find that girl again
she was damaged…but not as scarred as who i am
today
i want to find that birthday girl
and i want to celebrate her
anyway

i feel better today. back on my journey to healing. i feel better–stronger–more able to tackle life.
i wish my birthday didn’t knock me down like it does. i hope i can somehow recover my old sweet love for my birthday.
it is a journey…healing…and sometimes i wander off the path and into a patch of poison ivy….

my minions were sweet to me. iggy wrapped up a dozen rocks & shells to give me. fidgit drew me this awesome picture. misha made an elaborate show of hiding “barbie” dolls & stuffed animals for me to uncover for my birthday. my minions are awesome creatures…even poppy who is three but one day won’t be anymore (please god!)

so i survived another birthday and am back on my journey to being a better me.

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still-life for sawyer

today is my birthday
so
of course
i deleted my facebook page
and turned off my phone
not
because
i don’t want people to celebrate me
but because
i so desperately do
want that.
so if it doesn’t happen
i will be hurt
and if it does happen
i will be suspect
once a year?
once a year you remember me?
once a year you stop by
to say “hello.”
i know.
everyone is busy with their own lives
and how often do i reach out?
but don’t you see
how difficult it is for me to reach out
when all i expect is rejection
and disappointment?
today is my birthday…
i want fireworks, fancy chocolates, and fancy drinks
with loud & happy people…
but i suspect that won’t happen
i’m not that special
no one would even remember me if it weren’t for facebook
so i hide
from disappointment
& insincerity
i curl up in a ball
& cry
because
today is my birthday

it’s like dusty. all of a sudden he is saying all of the things that i wanted to hear ten years ago. and he expects me to just jump into his arms and eat up the bullshit.
but i can’t
because it is bullshit. ten years too late and said in a voice that makes me think he is being coached by someone. someone else. he never listened to me when i told him what i needed from him. now he is listening to another voice that is telling him what to say to get me back. maybe an inner voice…maybe an outer one. should i be flattered that he is trying so hard? to win me back?
but i’m not
because it is insincere. it is trap. it is manipulation. it is his trying to survive by pulling me under and floating to safety on my body. i have to remind myself of this–that his sweet words cover up a poisonous person.

and when i reject his come-ons…he resorts to talking child placement. he starts talking about how he wants the minions half-time. it’s like his next move after i block his move to capture my queen. talking about what an excellent father he is and how much he loves them.
he never did value me as a mother. i have put everything into being a mother, and for a while, i even believed i was a good mother. but he spent the past 12 years belittling my role as a mother. 12 years basically ignoring the minions. he was a dad when it was fun to be a dad–but when it wasn’t fun, he abandoned ship. his character in my moses jones comic wasn’t intentional. i didn’t set out to make him be an absent father figure…but dusty is an absent father figure. he is literally here, but he is gone. away. making himself unavailable to us even though he is right in front of us. it’s a weird gift, i guess, knowing how to make people not ask for your help or your contribution even though you are right there and completely able…and now because i won’t play his game, his next move is to remove the minions from their primary caretaker on a homestead with room to run and a life to live, to live with him half-time. where? at his mom’s house? or when he meets another woman–her house? dusty isn’t one to get things done  himself…he likes to take the easiest route possible. how will he care for four wild minions half-time?

and it’s my birthday.
and i’m broke.
i can’t even bake myself a cake because i have no money to go grocery shopping, and i somehow didn’t get the renewal for my foodshare (yes, i am on foodstamps) so i am desperately trying to get the state to renew my foodshare so i can buy groceries. fortunately, we have a garden giving us potatoes, beans, herbs, & greens. chickens for eggs–though they do so reluctantly. and a small store of dry goods–but no flour or honey for a cake.
and i was supposed to buy two goats this week…but i don’t have the money. obviously…. i am torn–it seems like a good investment, but how do i pull money out of my ass for goats when i am not sure how i am going to take care of every thing else?

i need a life coach. i need a fucking life coach. there has to be a way to make money. i do so much every day. surely it’s worth something to someone?

fuck.

happy birthday, me.

a poem for the full moon

my anger clings
to me
so tight
i can’t breathe
i can’t breathe…
i want to shed my anger
like a skin
i don’t want it anymore
i don’t need it
anymore
i want a new
fresh
skin
to welcome the world
to paint pictures on
to tell stories with
to experience love
& wonder
& all the beautiful things
that my anger
keeps at arm’s length
in some misguided
attempt
to protect me
from life…
i want to shed my anger
like a skin
& be born again
light
free
& happy.

a human connection

oftentimes i have hope
other times i don’t
belief that there is a person out there
willing to be there for me
willing to care about me
willing to help me up
when i fall down…

i so often fall down…

sometimes i have hope
sometimes i just want to hear a friendly
voice
share a laugh
talk about mundanely inane things
a warm body
so to speak
when i feel so cold
& alone

why do i feel so cold & alone?

sometimes i have hope.
maybe i shouldn’t
maybe hope is a thing that just hurts
maybe hope is a thing to put in a box
and forget all about
i wish i could forget all about
my hope
i wish i could put myself
in a box

when i posted on facebook about how my date-to-be not only cancelled on me but also blocked me on facebook, i had a “friend” comment this:

You may not like what I am about to say, but why are you looking so hard? Buy a “toy” online, and focus on your kids, your art, your animals. Isn’t the last thing you need another ex?

what the what the fuck? if you need to start your statement with “you may not like what i am going to say,” maybe you should re-think saying it. is it helpful? in this case–no it is not fucking helpful. i let this woman know that i am not “trying so hard” and that i have toys already. i also let her know that my kids, art, & homestead are my life. they are all i have. literally & figuratively. i asked her why she would begrudge me a human connection? and asked why she assumed it would be another ex?

mother fucker.

earlier that day i did my tarot & they warned me about a petty & jealous woman whose advice i should not heed. i wondered & meditated on this because i could not think of anyone like that in my life.  i concluded that it must be me. that i was petty & out to fuck myself over…huh…i guess i was wrong.
fucking tarot could have warned me that dude was going to flake out on me.
but i knew it already. i felt it already. i don’t know why though. i wonder sometimes if i was communicating with more than one person (that’s how different the impressions were when i was messaging with him.) i was sure he had lost interest. then all of a sudden he wants to see me. then he blocks me on facebook.

or is that just standard internet dating?

my brain likes a puzzle, so i keep going over details in my head.
is he married?
is he crazy?
did one of my outspoken opinions on facebook freak him out?
is he secretly a republican or a moron? (from his pof profile, fb profile, and conversations, he presented himself as someone intelligent, sensitive-ish, and on the left…however, he posted two sophomoric posts a couple of days before our supposed date…then deleted them the next day.)

i have heard other women talk about things like this happening. and on pof it happened once before for me. some guy coming on strong & then vanishing. and i kicked myself for falling for whatever ruse it was.
same here, i want to punish myself for being stupid enough to have any kind of hope of a human connection.

is it my fault for being naive & believing in people? i guess you could look at it that way. and i know plenty of people who have sworn off any hope of ever being in a happy relationship.
i can’t do that.
i can’t give up because giving up would be…giving up.

i can’t give up.

fight or flight

cancer
my sun sign
is a cautious one
a suspicious one
keeping her shell close at hand
just in case.
strangely though
i will run head long
into a disastrous relationship…
while carefully skirting
my chances for
a healthy one
what the what
& why?
does that even make sense?
i run from the chance to be
happy.
why do i do that?
hmmmm
nevermind why
i guess
just know that today
i am choosing to stand
& fight.

these epiphanies are brought to you courtesy of a facebook messenger conversation with a boy i met on an online dating site.
i don’t know if he is good news or bad. i guess that remains to be discovered. what i do know is that as soon as i realized he was in fact interested in me (after three weeks of messaging,) i freaked the fuck out.

page9

who knows why.

but i can tell you, the same thing happened when i was a teenager and a cute, sweet boy i had a crush on showed me interest. and again when i was in my twenties, when a sane & sweet one was in love with me.

but what about all those assholes i threw myself at without a second thought?

good question.

i have no idea what is wrong with me.
and i am done analyzing myself.
now it is just time to re-write the script.
as i said yesterday, it is time to heal.

page10

so i am going on a date, y’all.
after some really awkward and sad flirting (i am NOT good at flirting even on my best day) i am going on a date.
tonight.

so, assuming he is not a serial killer, i am no longer running away.

wake up, it’s time to heal

the voices came
& whispered to me
you are not this person
twelve years of anger
a lifetime of anger
you are not this person
it is time to heal
it is time to heal

page4

i recently learned about clairaudience. as soon as i read the description, i was like, “well, i have that.” imaginary friends, talking to one’s self, hearing voices, channeling advice, craving sound, hearing messages in songs….  i do all that.
so now i am trying to listen better.
last night–when i was trying to fall asleep–the voices came, & i was told that it is time to heal.

today is an anti-versary for me. 1997…so what is that? 20 years. 20 years ago, all in one day, i was molested & my dog got hit by a car and died. i have felt the weight of it every year since. i was in a terrible relationship. my life was a mess. i tried to straighten out the mess, but i kept going right back to it. the abuse. the neglect. the anger & hurt.

page5

now it’s time to heal.

it’s time to rewrite what today means to me.
today is the day i choose to start healing.
today is the day i choose to let go of the anger & hurt.
to embrace the beautiful in me & let go of the ugly that keeps me company while holding me back.

time to embrace my role as a mom.
time to celebrate who i am as an artist.
time to see what a healthy relationship looks like.

time to heal.

page6

 

love, art, & tarot

it is not my responsibilty
not my place
to heal your pain
i cannot endure
carrying your damage
along
with
my own.
please stop expecting me
to be your hero
let me heal
my own wounds
& then
then i might be
strong enough
to be
your friend.

i have been carrying the weight of dusty for so long. i just want to put him down & walk away. but he clings to me. so tightly! he wraps himself around me & refuses to let go.
i’m exhausted.
he is refusing to let go of the idea of us.
in my mind we have been dead so long that the smell is starting to waft away as we are turned to dirt by worms. dusty & me. so dead.
but he does his best to keep the wounds fresh.

meanwhile!
i wonder at starting new relationships.
going in new directions.
growing.

if i am karma, and i am used to handing out punishment for bad things done…what happens if i meet someone who deserves the love i can reward?

i did my tarot today as i had an opportunity present itself. my tarot said, “he who hesitates dies alone.”
or, you know, in a nutshell anyway.
me being the nutshell….

in other news!
i sent the minions with dusty for a few days and am getting some loooonnng overdue alone time.
so i’m trying to do art.
i am working on illustrating a story for a friend.

i have rough drafts for 3 out of 19 pages….