to let go
just let go
you can listen to that song
on the radio
you can sing
you can remember him
& the good times
you can let go of the hurt
of the pain
it does not serve you
it does not suit you
it shadows your smile
(& you have
such a beautiful
so sing along
remember your sorrows
if you must
but let them fly
into the night
from the fire
of your soul.
ugg. i wrote this yesterday in a moment of so-called clarity when i could smell hope in a sunbeam & hear the unicorns whispering good things….
i illustrated it today after my soul crumpled & broke, spilling out onto the kitchen floor.
me, as joan of arc.
doomed to die in flames but under the illusion of the divine.
i was so trying to be more optimistic.
the harder i try
the more invisible
the louder i cry
anyone can hear
the more i look
the bigger pariah
put the last three journal pages together & it is my trifecta of torment.
poppy was screaming at me almost the entire time i was drawing & painting this. he wanted cream cheese & toast, but he has been holding his poop lately and i am afraid of creating a dairy stoppage…so i told him no.
over & over
as he screamed at me for cream cheese & toast.
i offered him other foods…but he only wanted cream cheese & toast.
eventually i relented.
which makes me the worse mom? having him scream at me for something that might make him sick? or giving in & giving it to him?
being a mom is a catch 22.
i woke up in a good mood this morning. however, fidgit & iggy were relentlessly cruel to me–in the way only children can be to their barely-holding-it-together, ultra-tormented mother–until i snapped.
which is why there are so many demons in my drawing.
i feel like i am filled with demons.
y’all are probably tired of reading my journal & looking at my self-portraits. y’all are probably tired of hearing about how i never wanted to do this alone. never wanted to wrestle with four headstrong children by myself. never wanted to be single & lonely & overwhelmed by my roles in life.
i’m still talking about it. still. it still weighs down my heart.
i’m still writing about it.
i’m still drawing it.
maybe tomorrow will bring something new.
can you not see me?
can you not
or do you
here’s another from last week’s severe depression. as you can see, (maybe?) it has been illustrated now that i have a little levity to my mood.
i assure you…when i wrote it i was in the depths of one of those funks where i don’t want to die…but i don’t want to be alive either.
a fucked up place to be.
see…my life overwhelms me. i mean, that is understating it…but my life overwhelms me. i feel like i am wrapped in squid five miles underwater. my life overwhelms me. i know other moms have done it. i know other women have done it. i know other people have survived worse…but my life overwhelms me.
…& i don’t want to do it alone.
in the creases
of a world that i just don’t
lost & confused
by spaces where i should
so last week, i was a miserable mess.
i think i am starting to recover. i usually feel better on a new moon. you know, new beginnings & all that. forever the hopeful nihilist.
but there are a few more journal pages from this time of feeling…so fucking lost. lost & forgotten. never to be found. a horrible horrible feeling. i hate feeling lost.
so you know.
that’s coming up.
but i feel much better today.
part of me is missing
maybe you know
where it is?
i wake up
it’s another day
that it is
i go to bed
knowing that my morning
my next day
will bring more of the same
& i want to scream
i do scream
part of me is missing
you know where
it is you?
i read something
that said grief
trapped in the corners
of your eyes….
i don’t know what to do
with all this grief
part of me
& i’m oh so tired
but if i stop…
if i stop
will i drown in
i like this illustration. i’m not sure i captured in my words what i feel…but i think i captured it in my drawing.
i think i am still recovering from the visits of my mom & my ex-husband. two people who put the knife in and twist it. both are relationships that i desperately want to be different. i know i could be a more complete person…
if my mother had mothered me
if my ex-husband had been able to love me
if neither of them had emotionally abandoned me
& betrayed me….
i desperately long to heal that wound. that emptiness.
but maybe i have turned to stone.
to something that barely resembles the person
i could have been.
i feel like i’ve lost the right words
i’ve used my quota. used all
my best words for all my
worst days. & now i have all
the wrong words but my head
i published this journal entry with this illustration:
only to realize I PUT MY HANDS ON BACKWARDS…which, normally, y’all–i like to live with my mistakes. but goddammit, my hands are on backwards and that was just way too much for me to sit back & hope no one noticed. because if someone noticed, then they would think i did not realize i had my hands on backwards.
so i hastily removed it from all social medias (tumblr, eatsleepdraw, facebook, & here.) all sweaty & aghast.
plus, when i put it up on facebook, i was all sad because no one was looking at it. then i realized i had made all of my posts “private.” so while i was hating the world for not seeing me–i actually wasn’t visible to them.
hahahahaha…no, i’m not a mess (yes, i’m a mess.)
but, you know, it’s not like facebook was lighting up even after i went back to “public” posts.
however, this post had gotten a lot of notice here & on tumblr & on eatsleepdraw. so maybe i should have just edited it instead of deleting it.
well, hope y’all also enjoy my ocd version!
you will never know how much
i mourn that we are not
a happily ever after. i mean
how sweet would that be?
forever love with the man
who’s four children i have birthed?
a team? the same team?
all of us–together? instead of this
terminal, yawning loneliness.
instead of struggling alone
alone alone alone
to raise four kids?
you will never know how my heart
breaks & how i believe i will
spend the rest of my life
alone & lonely.
that that part of me that craves
a connection will just dry up
& blow away in the wind.
i wish things were different.
with all my heart i wish everything
were different. i do.
but no matter how hard i wish…
i have had this illustration idea in my head for the past few journal pages i have done. but when i went to draw it, other images appeared instead. so it finally found its home with this journal entry. while typing out the journal entry, i was happily surprised to see i drew dandelions in a post about wishes & blowing away in the wind. see…part of me is paying attention.
(note to self: ask fidgit to teach me to draw a snail.)
dusty asked me if i ever cried watching other people play with their kids. he wanted to let me know how much he missed the kids when they are with me.
i could only respond by telling him how i cry every time i see a happy couple. every time someone clearly loves their wife. every time i see a normal functioning pair of humans.
that’s what poppy calls people. he asked me if i was reaching for a tree in this picture. i asked him where the tree is. he responded by asking if i was reaching for a human (he pronounces it “who-man.”) i told him, yes, i am reaching for a human.