going down (& not in the fun way)

sometimes you have to
go down
(down down down)
in order to
come up
sometimes you have to
fall
backwards
to figure out the way
forward
falling is sometimes
just
another way to fly
maybe it’s time
for you to stop
& breathe
& trust that you are on
the right path
despite
all the detours.

more thoughts on my recent emotional face plant.
all triggered by my epic motherhood fails which in turn knocked over the domino of my feeling so very alone in my single mom adventure.
and all the dominoes fell
spectacularly
burying me in my own substantial remorse.

but…i am slowly digging my way back out.
maybe today i will have the headspace to do the work towards getting an editor (unlike yesterday where i spent the day doing a jigsaw puzzle.)

also! i am up & about. moving slowly, but doing yoga, taking walks (on crutches still), and weeding my many gardens that have gone unweeded under the care of my four feral minions.

alone again

i feel like
to survive my lonely
i have to isolate
to weed
out
every half-assed friend
& insincere
acquaintance
who only seems to care
when there is something
in it
for them
because
when i feel alone
i feel
even more
alone
for all the people
who fail me.

might be my inner pariah talking, but i find when i feel alone, all i want to do is isolate. like throwing out the junk food when you are starving.
hmmm.
so i find myself dumping my friends who aren’t really my friends.
and i am being fair & giving them the benefit of the doubt. i’m not just making heads roll…but still, what friends i have are not meeting even my lowest of standards.

i need new friends. substantial friends. no more junk food.
how does one go about meeting authentic people?

attachment disorder

dear sir or ma’am
not that it is an excuse
but i have recently
learned
about
that pop term
mental illness
du jour
& you know
how i always joke
about being that baby monkey
in those
horrific
experiments
jokes
about being raised by wolves
well
i’m so sorry
i broke your heart
turns out
being rejected by mum
really does a number on one’s
ability
to…
well
to fucking form attachments
to trust
to have faith
of any kind
to believe that someone
could
actually
love me
i can tell you now
without a doubt
i ruined
your life
because i am
broken
so….

i have decided to advertise myself as “beautiful but broken.” hey, at least i’m seeing myself as beautiful…i mean, that’s new.
sigh
i have been struggling to get up in the morning. struggling to get through the day. i’m not sure if it’s father’s day, my dad’s birthday, my birthday (all happening in the next few weeks) plus the anti-versary of being molested on the same day my dog got hit by a car…the dog that i had just realized i did love after not being able to bond with any animal after my cat was murdered….
i feel like i am being “dramatic” by taking my life seriously. by acting as if i have any reason to hurt when other people survive much worse…. yet, i feel like maybe i need to give myself permission to mourn…to grieve…but then i’m all “snap out of it” and not letting that happen.
and it all just starts over again.

pariah

i already suspect
everyone
hates me
yet when it is confirmed
that
someone
hates me
i spin out…
that familiar
downward
spiral
“they’re just jealous”
possibly
the only nice thing
my mom
said to me
her grade school pariah
am i a threat
i wonder
something to fear
or hate?
this makes more sense to me
than jealousy
but of course
odds are
someone has to love me…
following that
would suggest that someone
must hate me
&
if the whole world
can’t love
me
then
the whole world
can’t hate me
either.

trying to talk myself in off the ledge? i’m not sure this is working.

cool calm & collected

the two fathers
battle
inside me
my birth father
angry
violent
scary as fuck
my inner father
patient
understanding
kind
the father who taught me
to hurt others
the way i was hurt
& the father
i hope
will lead me
back
out of the darkness
i don’t want
to feel this seething
all consuming
anger
anymore
i want to be held
to be told
“it’s okay.
you’re okay.”
i want
to finally
heal.

in my dad’s yearbook, they took the first letter of your last name & wrote three words to describe you beginning with that letter.
“cool calm & collected” was under the photo of my father.
i always found this strange. but! to everyone not in our immediate family, he was cool, calm, & collected. he saved his enormous anger for us.
i saw this again in my ex-husband. he was the greatest guy ever to everyone…except me.
it is difficult to reconcile this jekyl & hyde treatment. impossible even.
having no access to the kinder version of my birth father, in seeking an inner father, i have to start from scratch.
this might take me awhile.

unappealing

the more they ignore me
the louder i tell myself
i never needed them
anyway
the more unpopular
i am
the more inspired
i am
to perfect being a pariah
the less they see me
the harder i try
to stay
invisible
what happens if…
what happens if i fight
that reflex
what happens if i try
to be appealing…
holy fuck
the mere thought of it
goes against
my very fiber
hmmm
maybe “self-sabotage”
maybe
not
giving
a
fuck
is just how i roll…
i’m too fucking angry
to be appealing
to be soft
to be inviting
is there a way
to seek my audience
without
compromising
who i am?

who’s your daddy?

i am meditating on my inner father lately
after realizing
i have never met him
but i have been having so many dreams lately
with my father in them
a father whom i do not consider a father figure
so i asked myself
what does my inner father look like?
who is he?
what is my relationship with him?

my inner mother, on the other hand
has grown stronger
since i let her in
comforting
reassuring
letting me know
i’m not a fuck up
&
i am loved.

begin again

grizzly bear dreams
daring me
to trust
to love
to open the door
that i slam
shut
in fear
that door
i use all my strength
to hold
shut…
what happens
if i open
the door
& discover
my grizzly bear
is
a
teddy bear?

these are the first two pages of a brand new journal.
a brand new world
a brand new me?
i have dreamt of grizzly bears in the past & was able to analyze myself back then & realize that the grizzly was my fear of motherhood. then i stopped dreaming of them & haven’t dreamed of them in years.
but the other morning, i woke up to another terrifying grizzly bear dream. i am never harmed in the dreams, however, i am extremely scared & take measures to avoid being attacked.
in the case of this most recent dream, i slammed a door shut & begged others to help me hold it shut.
upon waking, since i identify with grizzly bears & have a medicine card deck (identifying the grizzly as protector of my feminine) i am able to be aware that the grizzly is not a threat to me & being my feminine protector, grizzly bear advocates for self-love (as well as love of others & motherhood.)
so i am afraid of loving myself? i have been working on learning to love myself…which i’m guessing resulted in this dream, reminding me of how silly it is to be afraid.
so!
i began to envision opening the door and hugging that huge grizzly bear head instead of trying so hard to keep her out of my life.

one year at madness manor

i could stare at the hills
for days
lost
in the green
every shade of green
lost
in the dappled
shadows
i could stare at the hills
for days
like i have finally
found
what i have been looking for.

when i was a kid i would literally sit in my yard and stare at the horizon. my horizon then was actually the levy of the mackinaw river and the hills around the river valley as i grew up in one of the few places that isn’t flat in central illinois. i would stare at the trees on this levy, my horizon, as a way to survive the horrors of my childhood. staring at the horizon, i would plan my escape and imagine just getting up and leaving. i spent my childhood just waiting for the time i could finally go. run the fuck away.

now, when i look at the horizon–which is much closer now but very similar to that river valley in illinois–i have no feelings of escape. i just feel…content. home. peaceful even.
like i have arrived.
i somehow made it after thirty-three years of searching.

i am home.

quixotic updates

i am working on this new ink on canvas tentatively titled “foxy.” i really like working on canvas & now that i am down to my last free canvas, i am thinking of buying more for future creations.
that bunny keeps hopping into my art lately. i have even started a children’s book starring him.
fun fact. after i wrote the text for said children’s book, i went to my sun porch, looked out the window, and watched three bunnies eating dandelions in my backyard. i stood & watched for at least ten minutes. if you have never watched a bunny eat a dandelion, you are totally missing out.

in other news, i went through all my journals looking for “fodder” for books & stories. i have decided to focus on one project at a time instead of being easily distracted & starting new projects without finishing old ones. after the children’s book illustrations are done, i will focus on finishing the text & doing illustrations for my novel, a better life through sock puppets.
i am trying to give myself credit for what i have achieved. i let myself be proud of the fact that i found so many random ideas & sketches worth working with! including the above gem from 2016.

so i am not moping. i am rebuilding that fucking tower & giving myself credit for doing a good job with it.
as they say in my home state of wisconsin–forward!

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