he is so good
at handing his problems
over to me
waiting for me to fix them
so he can blame me
when they just aren’t
does he even know
what i struggle with
he is so good at showing
his injuries to me
getting me to cry
over every little bump
to his heart & soul
does he even see
how my injuries
next to his
& leave me
okay. maybe you will understand. dusty thinks i have written him off because he was “honest” with me & told me about his still being in contact with hello kitty fuckface (not her real name.) he refuses to comprehend that the reason i am telling him to fuck the fuck off for good & forever is that fact that i have been asking him since 2013 to end his contact/relationship with her. that there should be absolutely no reason for him to be “honest” with me about her because she should not even be part of the equation.
five years of his using this other woman to manipulate me. holy fucking shit. why have i let him do this to me for five years?
seriously. what is the psychology behind that? am i a chump? a masochist? a desperate & lonely soul? that fucking desperate? that fucking delusional. that fucking dedicated to a happy ending?
what the ever-loving fuck.
and now i find myself having to learn to just walk away. it is so hard…so hard to just walk away. to suppress that urge to have the last word. to suppress that need for him to understand–to just fucking get it for once. i have to walk away. every word i say to him. every conversation i have–it’s the sticky strands of a spider web. his spider web. to keep me engaged…he just wants me to stay engaged…because then he somehow wins?
i don’t fucking know.
or fucking care at this point.
he keeps talking about how we need to talk…thing is, he never talks to me. he never listens to me…he just manipulates and plays me like a fucking pawn in his demented game.
guess what, motherfucker, i quit.
when i was twenty-two, my therapist told me to stop dating.
she feared i had a sexual addiction.
in fact, i was (am?) addicted to relationships (which is one reason it took me ten thousands attempts to break up with dusty)
& being also afflicted with contrary personality disorder (i just made that up)
i shook off my therapist’s instructions & found some troubled
boy to date
whom i wasn’t even really attracted to
(a re-occurring personality in my grab-bag of relationships)
long story short
when i realized i was being stupid
i called the boy up & told him i needed “to talk” to him
…& i never saw him again.
he disappeared before i could break up with him
that is not the last time i had a boyfriend vanish before i could break up with him….
okay–so while i was doing the illustration/self-portrait/comic for this, i messed up my drawing & had to cover it up and then when i was doing background color–my ink smeared??? but…i think i salvaged it.
my ink is not supposed to smear. bad ink.
so it looks like this might be the direction this whole experiment turns to. a comic. an illustrated journal/memoir.
that would be kinda cool.
let’s see what other noteworthy memories i can dredge up.
in my witch’s garden
a quiet & gentle therefore atypical page from my journal.
the other night i found myself searching under pitch black skies for some parsley for a tomato sauce i was making. i miscalculated a time or two, but once i put my hands in the lush & fragrant patch of parsley–thriving despite the cold nights here–i felt as if i had found a treasure.
sometimes i love homesteading with all my heart.
of course, later that night, i re-injured my back lifting the canning vessel onto my stove in order to can my tomato sauce…and have been in more pain than ever since.
and due to re-injuring my injury, i have been unable to send dusty back to wisconsin…sacrificing my mental health so that my back can mend…
so! much more anguished journal entries to come!
days & days
of staring at an inkstain
drawing a line here
squinting to see the shapes
in shadows & smudges & splatters
putting up beehives
eleven days into april
just one inking,
but so much work
i’m exhausted. but i finally finally finished this. there were several times when i thought i was done…but then the light would hit it just right & i would see another face…another creature…more magic.
i am having trouble focusing on my artwork. it shouldn’t take me eleven days to do an inking. or should it? i am distracted. with spring and all the work of a budding homestead.
but, also, with dusty around, the little voices whisper to me that he thinks i am wasting my time.that he thinks i am neglecting the minions. that he thinks i am being silly–thinking my art is a worthwhile endeavor. that i should be doing something else–something worthwhile.
when dusty is nearby, it echoes of my childhood & when my dad would enter a room, i feel like i have to look busy…i feel like my artwork is not real work.
i could very well be projecting this.
or i could very well be sensing it from him.
he has made snide comments in the past.
some days i think i can keep dusty in my life.
i am trying really hard to be nice to him
to see if that changes how he treats me…
…but most the time, he is still a turd.
i have a wicked head cold.
which might be responsible for this inking & its title.
which may have been a psychosomatic response to my letting dusty move back in.
i can barely breathe.
i can barely think.
my functionality is pretty limited.
it might be a defense mechanism of mine.
i was once sick for a month straight in one doomed relationship.
i can’t remember which one.
it’s like my body says, “this is bullshit.”
and shuts down.
my immune system gives up on me.
or thinks, “maybe this will get her attention.”
how many times can i fuck up in the exact same way?
maybe that should be the title of my memoirs….
so i guess today is the first day of the rest of my life
i know things won’t magically get better
just because i ousted the man
who helped me make myself
but i felt a ray of light
“i’m just going to relax.”
when i faced this first day
officially on my own.
then i felt the need to defend my decision
as if i was doing something wrong.
but, fuck it.
i’m going to sing & dance & play
and be ridiculous if i want to be
who made me feel as if
i had to be the grown-up
while he did whatever he wanted to do
i spent the past two days taking dusty his stuff and severing those ties. we now live in separate states. separate physical states. i think we always lived in separate mental states.
so maybe the spells & stones worked after all? maybe i had to go to that dark dark dark fucking place inside me to find the strength to separate myself from him and all he has taught me i am in the years we have been together.
to let go, i had to die a little.
but it worked. i am free. maybe for the first time in a decade or more. maybe for the first time in forever.
i am free and i am going to work all this anger out of my bones. all the anger i have absorbed over the years. i am going to work it out and learn to believe that i am worthy of love.
that will be weird.
if i believe i am worthy of good things?
that would be amazing.
so while on the road, i only got this doodle done. so i missed two days of posting. but i’m back now and will finish this doodle. here is what it looks like with just the first ink on the ink stain. more ink to come!