needless to say

to avoid having needs
met
i seek out
impossible men
seek out
self-fulfilling prophesies
teaching me to forget
my needs
bury them deep
it is not safe
to
need
close down
after all
you don’t need
anyone
do you?
need leads to want
need leads to betrayal
need leads to pain
how can i open
myself
to need
when i have taught myself
so thoroughly
that need
hurts?

so.
when i was a kid, my parents didn’t meet my needs. they wouldn’t or couldn’t. instead of becoming more needy, i shut down. i decided that if they wouldn’t meet my needs, i wouldn’t have any.
seriously.
if you read in one of my fallen posts about how i was the “good” one–they thought i was good because i never asked for anything.
nothing.
i refused to give them the chance to not meet my needs. i knew they would reject me–so i didn’t give them a chance to.
so so so fucked up.
what kid doesn’t need?
this one.
then of course, i grew into a woman who dated men incapable of meeting my needs.
so.
i didn’t have any. or if i did, i buried them deep until they became a molten core of anger & hate. resenting people for not being who i needed them to be as i refused to admit i had needs.
basically, i suspect everyone is eventually going to reject me, so i never let myself need anyone.

long story short, i am extremely self-reliant and independent…but i am now unable to need anyone–thereby i don’t connect with people on one basic human level.

yay.

working the healing wheel by maeanna welti has been pretty awesome. at each season on the wheel, there is focus on an area to heal. samhain was fear. solstice was needs. i am still working solstice…but looking forward to what i will learn about myself come imbolic.

Advertisements

broken window

i am a stained glass 
window
with a rock thrown
through
i am 
a trampled
orchid
a torn canvas
a half-remembered 
masterpiece
i am irreparably
fantastically
damaged
i am perfectly
damaged
blood stains 
on a white carpet
i will never be
what i once
briefly
could have been
i will be something
even better
more complete
stronger
more interesting
with a story to tell
& a lesson 
learned
the hard way
(thereby easier
to remember.)

i’ve never really looked this closely at “the creation of adam” by michelangelo.
adam is totally, yo–what’s up god?
god should be all–don’t bother to get up adam, it’s just your lord breathing life into you. no, why get up? why put on a pair of pants just for the guy who just gave you the garden of eden?
as adam barely even lifts his arm to finger bump his creator.
also, lucky for me, michelangelo drew adam with plenty of curves so he was easy to translate to my body.
however, adam is surprisingly hairless. so i did have to add body hair.

i like how this one turned out.

my cracked wheels

i fall in love
as a way
of hating
myself
the cracked wheels
that turn

animate my soul
are powered
by a crush
my heart
crushed
so i can shine
my light
on 
someone 
else.

choosing to survive

except
i chose to be alone
i did
i did not
i did not choose
for my ex-husband to be an 
asshole
but i did choose
to live without an asshole
in my life
which meant
i was left all alone
& lonely
i accept that i have ultimately
made that choice
& am also
choosing
not to simply let anyone
any warm body
be
the company
i so desire
so
yes
i choose
to be alone
even if
i would rather not
be
lonely.

i felt that it was important for me to acknowledge this to myself. to know that i am not just a victim of my life. i make choices to try to be stronger & to try to heal the pain and damage i have suffered. though i believe my decisions of late will help me in the long run, that doesn’t mean i enjoy the immediate effects of them. 

meanwhile, i went to iowa city to check out their developing eco-village. it was beautiful & the people were really cool…but i do not have anywhere near to the money i would need as it requires actually buying a flat or duplex. 
i will talk to them to see if there are any options for a broke-ass mama like me…but i don’t think it is someplace i can move to anytime soon. so i am still trying to figure out my next move, a move back to community and away from the isolation of my homestead.
but i was happy to–briefly–be back in iowa city. i wish i had never left. 
i wonder what that parallel universe looks like….

on the topic of money. i have decided that i have to actually demand child support from my ex-fucker. i mean, dur. or rather, i shouldn’t even have to demand it–he should just be paying it. but that is not ever going to happen. he is paying just a token amount because i let him get away with that & now he actually has a job where he could afford to pay more…but he is not. he is not supporting his children because he doesn’t think he should have to. 
this makes me so sad. 
and i really do hate being the heavy.
and he is so good at making me feel like shit whenever he puts me in the position where i have to ask him for anything. 
oh! 
and i did tell him, when we did the minion swap, that if i were using him as a punching bag (as he likes to accuse me) that would mean i was angry about something else & taking it out on him. 
i let him know that he is not my punching bag because the anger i am directing at him is anger that i have at him–my frustration with him…appropriately directed at him.
fucking manipulative motherfucker. 

i am…alone

i am
sylvia plath
i am
vincent van gogh
i am
the bronte sisters
yes
all three
trapped on the moors
watching 
the moon
blow across
a sky full of stars
blown
by a relentless
wind
worlds exploding
within our imaginations
while loneliness
feasts
on our souls.

you are due a little break after this one. an optimistic-ish upturn as it were. i mean, it’s not hearts & flowers…but less doom & gloom. i am the moon after all. i wax & wane most gloriously.

i have not yet tackled the task of going through my journals for “poems” & art work to be put together in a collection.
i have been a bit down on myself (no! me??) and prone to comparing myself to others to whom success seems an easier venture…and hating them most enthusiastically….
but i am going to do it. i’m going to put together a collection. i’m going to publish it. and i will have my own group of people who enthusiastically hate me for it.
also, i need to start the cards i was commissioned to do.
and i am waiting to hear back from the one who commissioned this

as they have told me they want eleven more illustrations. 

plus, you know, searching for a new home…raising four minions…preparing for winter…training a puppy…deciding what to do with livestock who won’t stop being naughty…oh! & apparently bartering with the father of my children to see if he is “willing” to pay more than $200 a month child support so i can take proper care of his four children…just the normal to do. 

emotional cargo pants

sometimes i think
i must be crying
someone else’s
tears
must be feeling
someone else’s
pain
must be haunted
by someone else’s
ghosts
how could one person
feel
this
much?
maybe i am cursed
maybe i am blessed
maybe it is
my destiny
to pocket
not just my own
suffering
but a piece
of everyone else’s
as well
people who don’t have
all the pocket space
i do
i must be a pair
of emotional
cargo pants
used to carry
all the woes
of the
world.

you know,  emotional cargo pants to go with my sweater of depression. to be found in my neurotic wardrobe.

this one’s a bit messier than usual. the thought was difficult for me to express in the right way. i suspect there is a spectacularly poetic way to do it…but i am falling short & struggling with it.
additionally, my rapidograph pens were being assholes….as is in their nature, but i still love them.

stuck like this

i can feel
the broken parts
inside me
clenching into a
fist
determined
not to be
removed
not to be
healed
staking their claim
to my ego
to my
self
a vice-like grasp
on every
thought
that dares to
venture
out
testing the waters
of my personality
today
“you are a useless
&
awful
person,”
they whisper…but
to me
it sounds like
a scream.

okay. so i write these pages as the thoughts tumble through my brain. so the date on the page is the date i wrote it. i illustrate them in the order i write them.
some days i have several thoughts screaming to be heard.
some days my brain is nice & quiet.
it often happens that i have several pages of script before i get an idea for what image should be with each page. usually i am a day or two or even more behind on illustrating my thoughts.
so! it often happens that by the time i illustrate a thought, i have recovered from it. if that makes sense. i mean, this whole ordeal is just a long, drawn-out exorcism.

ta-da.
(in other words–i feel much better now…but this thought is a valid one…the battle inside me. parts of me wanting to heal–other parts fighting it tooth & nail.)

INKtober twenty-eighth

i am autumn
i am change
i am ready
to rest
to let go
to prepare
for
spring.

…if i survive winter.
i felt calm, hopeful even, when i wrote this as i watched the wind blow across the blue sky outside my window.
then something cracked & damaged inside me shifted. my rabies flared up.
now i am not so sure that i am anything other than a dead mom walking.
maybe i am not meant to rest.
like my own dear mother always said, “no rest for the wicked.”

INKtober twenty-fifth

i am not broken
i am not broken
is my mantra
today
i am not broken
i am not broken
should be my mantra
every
day
i am not broken
i am not broken
is what helps
me try
to stand
a little taller
a little stronger
helps me be brave
helps me live
to fight
another
day
even when
all
i want
to do
is
surrender.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑