the screaming game

who would have guessed
a morning
without yelling & screaming
would feel so luxurious?
who would have guessed
a day
without being abused
by midgets
would feel so
refreshing?
was motherhood
the model
for getting
information from spies?
the methodology
for breaking suspects?
i spent a childhood
hiding from
loud voices & harsh words
how did i never suspect
motherhood
would be much
the same?

(i know all there is to know about the screaming game….)
the minions are with their father so that i can recover.
i felt it, in my bones, the tired worn down feeling. i felt it, in my heart, the seething anger. they push every button they can find, & i collapse in a heap.
this is motherhood? this is my life?
how do i fix this? how do i change my household into a more peaceful place?
i do not accept that this is the way it has to be…yet i cannot figure out another way.

…to be continued…

more comic doodles

titled: notes from the motherhood

i’ve begun to fantasize about billy bob thornton

billy bob: these children giving you a hard time, ma’am?
i can take care of them for you….

my thinking: i’m not sure what he means by “take care of”
but at this point i’m ready to roll those dice.it has been a hard time at madness manor while children’s nastiness runs at full speed. i am not sure how many of them wished me dead yesterday. i wonder if those parents who spank & do worse are actually doing the right thing because being a kind & affectionate mom seems to be failing miserably? will they grow up to be nice adults despite being assholes as kids? i was physically & emotionally abused as a child–which prevented me from being an asshole–but now i am a hot mess of a grown up. will it work opposite for my kids?
these are the things i wonder as they scream horrible things merely because they did not get what they wanted….
to beat or not to beat my kids?
i do not have the stomach to be an abusive parent…but i can write comics!

obviously i need to look at what billy bob thornton actually looks like. i plan to practice that with some google pics….
meanwhile, i did doodle some pictures of nasty little children
& one doodle of one of my actual children, but not looking nasty today. pleasant children mostly today….

tolerating the intolerable

one of my gifts
my dysfunctional super powers
one of the survival instincts
that kicked in
early
was an ability
to tolerate
intolerable
situations
breathe through
breath held
one day at a time
with the prize in sight
always
with my eyes on that prize
…escape
ignoring with all my might
the pain
surrounding
me
until the day
i would no longer
have to.

i spent my abusive childhood waiting for the day i could run away. i moved out of that house the week i graduated high school.
in every dysfunctional relationship, i plotted my escape. tolerating the intolerable until i could safely leave.
all the messed up places i have lived…i pretended it wasn’t so bad until the day i could move away.

motherhood is the only place i refuse to do that…
wait…or am i doing it? holding myself just together enough until the day my spawn finally fly away from me….
fuck…how can i even tell? it has become second nature.

in plain sight

i fall apart
in plain sight
where no one
can see me
you think by now
i would have learned
to stuff
everything
down
to not make a fuss
but
no
i fall apart
in plain sight
where
no one
will see me.

i lived in a housing co-op of over thirty people. i had two kids when i moved out; i was pregnant with my fourth when i moved out.
i mistakenly let my ex-husband also move into the co-op where he made my life a living hell.
i had multiple break-downs.
anyhoo! sometimes i would be struggling with my children & losing what little mind i had left, on the verge of crying or straight up crying in a room full of people…and no one would do a thing to help me.
they all just pretended it wasn’t happening.
which is a perfect mirror of our society.
we pretend the ugly/uncomfortable things are not happening. i am sure i am guilty of it too.
& it just fucking sucks ass.

(those of you who see a person hurting & reach out to them–y’all are amazing)

ps. this inking was inspired by the view from my front porch. i love my new house 🙂

my way

i’ve got a chip
on my shoulder
i’ve got
an axe to grind
&
fuck you
i’m gonna do it
my way.

more of this. anger…angst…figuring out who i am. the hero or the anti-hero…i think i am more of the second one. when i try to be the hero things just get messy.
so maybe the trick is accepting that i am not the hero.
& wondering if i ever really even wanted to be the hero.
i mean, i showcase my flaws–i don’t hide them under spandex. i definitely lean to the dark side while still holding something of a moral compass.
i guess things just aren’t as black & white as hero & villain. & who would want them to be? things are much more colorful this way.

a horse called fury

i am not a martyr
for my cause
i am not
going to suffer
so you can
live
without sin
i will ride in
on a horse called fury
i will swing
my sword
indiscriminately
&
i will
burn
this motherfucker
down.

you will all be relieved to hear i was able to download more criminal minds after i figured out that the site i use had changed addresses & i was following a dead link…. yup.
in last night’s watched episode, my favorite character (dr. reid) said, “everything falls apart…the trick is letting go.”
which i’m sure he was saying right to me–yes?
it feels to me like i am often watching everything fall apart.
add in trying to figure out who i really am…am i a good person? or am i a serial killer who just has not yet been triggered? i honestly lean more to the latter these days.
i am exhausted by thoughtless people.

speaking of! i am playing with two new ideas for comics.

the invisibles

and the misanthropic philantropist

death wishes

i usta sit
by darkened
winter windows
this same window
i now make art
with the light of
eons ago
i stared at the dark
reflecting little me
reflecting damaged me
back
waiting for him
to come home
praying
he would not
come home
death wishes
for daddy dearest
&
only forty years later
wishes
granted.

yesterday as i was driving back from dropping off the minions, my cell phone rang & “pure evil” came up on the screen.
i did not answer.
when i got home, i listened to the message. my mom, telling me that she thought he was asleep, but that my dad is dead.
that’s my mom, phoning around for a reaction before actually calling the paramedics.
so…my dad is dead.
don’t say you’re sorry, because i am not & if you say you’re sorry, it will only make me feel like a bigger shit.

tall dark & handsome

he came to me in a dream
ready to end
my misery
with talons
like razors
a creature from–
well…
nightmares
a feathered man
tall dark & handsome
my sure
demise
but to my credit
i fought
for my
wretched
life
even resorting to
my
feminine
wiles.

a little something different.
maybe too much halloween candy, but i had a vivid dream last night about a big blackbird-man who came to finish me off. except he was also sexy. i think i have a pretty conflicted view of men.
speaking of….
so who remembers clan of the cave bear? my brain often references the idea in it that ayla is guarded by her spirit animal, the cave bear who scarred her. she is thereby deemed to have too strong of an energy for most men to mate with her and make a child with her.
i think of the grizzly bear as one of my main spirit guides. i feel her energy in me & feel i am protected by her.
i have found that my strength makes dating tricky. which i think is weird…but it seems to be true.
until (at least) this point in my life i have chosen physically small men. feminine men. men who do not seem threatening to me…. yes, i chose them. if i wait to be chosen, it is a long wait. however, most of the men i choose then turn me upside down–& not in a good way. most of them seem threatened by me. most of them try to dominate & degrade me.
so i’m thinking maybe i should be looking for a romantic interest that has–at least–the grizzly bear spirit i have?
i dunno.
just brainstorming here. it’s not like i have suitors lining up at my door to choose from.

 

the queen of swords

when i was doing the pages, killing off dusty, a friend commented to me that it was strong magic i was doing–that it would have an effect on me.

i thought it would put the last nail in the coffin…however, it seemed to cause me to look at my dusty differently. like i had killed off his evil doppelgänger and the curse was lifted & we would live happily ever after.

what?
where the fuck did that come from?
so dusty came to visit when he returned the minions and i was all warm & fuzzy towards him….

what?

it’s true. sad, but true. i started letting myself fantasize the easy fantasy.
what it the father of my children wasn’t a narcissistic asshole? what if he could return to us and be there for me every day and help with the kids and help with the homestead and i wouldn’t have to be alone anymore and i would have someone to talk to…to laugh with…to cuddle and have delicious sex with….

so after he was gone away again, i kept trying to think of ways of making it work out. ways to invite dusty back into my life again. i didn’t want to make the same mistake i had made
over
and
over
and
over.
i would take it slow and think it through and make the right decision.

so i texted him asking if he was dating anyone. i thought this would be a good first step.
he texted back “well psychotic hello kitty cunt-face (not her real name) wants us to be dating but…”

holy fucking christ in a toaster

quick timeline for clarification
2013-2015 –cheating on me with phkcf behind my back while i am pregnant with his fourth child, giving birth to that child, and taking care of an infant & 3 other children.
2015-2016 –telling me he is going to break up with her/refusing to break up with her/ she meanwhile is stalking the both of us and leaving weird little notes, graffiti, presents all over the neighborhood we live in
2016 –i move to fucking manitowoc, wisconsin to get away from the two of them because he won’t break up with her. he immediately breaks up with her (after i have moved away) and supposedly breaks ties with her.
2016-2017 we move to illinois together & try to make another go of it but fail. he goes back to wisconsin where i realize he is back in touch with her & i tell him he cannot be friends with me while remaining in contact with a person who did as much damage as phkcf did.
2018 –i realize he may still be in touch with her because all of a sudden the kids are talking about max the cat whom last i knew he had given to her (in 2013) probably so he would have an excuse to see her. so he got his cat back from her. which means there was definite contact. he says nothing to me. then he casually name-drops her as someone he could be dating?????????????

does he not get it? does he not understand that i do not want this person anywhere near my life? if he wants me in his life in any capacity, she cannot be in his life. why does he not understand that? or does he just not care? he says she means nothing to him & that he wants nothing to do with her…and she is ruining his chances of having any kind of friendship with me…yet he still corresponds with her (at least–he could be doing more–it’s not like he tells me the truth about anything.)

fuck a duck.

so here i am.
i let myself have the fantasy. i let myself go there.
now i am hurting for it.

i should have known better.
why the fuck didn’t i know better?

is it hope or stupidity or human nature or a damaged soul that lets me think he could change?

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