the free store i started is a month old now. it is packed full of goodies. so many awesome people donating.
i have only noticed one problem. all the accolades i have been receiving have triggered my impostor syndrome & sent me into some serious dark & downward spirals. weird, right? like when people tell me i’m doing a good thing, i feel like i am somehow fooling them. when one woman said, “way to pay it forward,” i flinched. of course, for me it is not about karma. it is about giving the people what they need; keeping crap out of landfills; putting one over on the man…. but am i a good person for doing it? i don’t feel like a good person… then i start to wonder…if my art took off, would i suffer in a similar way? spin out to a dark & devastated place where i fear everyone will realize i am actually a fuck up in sheep’s clothing?
however, i can’t help hoping all the spinning i have been doing will leave me standing still
so…i’m no longer living on a bus! y’all–i managed to get off the bus!
me & the minions have a house in a quaint neighborhood of a quaint town in wisconsin. and! i claimed a room as a room of my own! except for the pet rat, the dog, and being also a space for books & puzzles…i have a room that is all mine for writing & drawing & just staring out the window! so that’s nice. but i have flunked out of therapy…not before reprising my list of ideals for a romantic relationship, however. next on my list of “what i want”…that guy who won’t make me feel like crap.
& then, also on the list of things i desire (after a roof & a man) is a job doing what i actually want to be doing. i am working outside the home for the first time in forever….but the honeymoon is over on the new job. now i just want to sit at home & draw…and write…and go for walks & on bike rides…garden a bit…travel…. sigh.
though i forgot about INKtober, as sarah of fresh hell pointed out to me, every day is kinda inktober for me. actually, ever since INKtober 2016, i have been covered in ink. it’s a bit scary how much i have drawn in these last three years. i should have a book…or something. but, no, i am not exactly rolling with the punches…. i feel like a complete failure as my patreon page whispers softly to me, “my god you suck….” & in other areas of life, mother–(crap…am i anything other than a mother???) i am also sucking suckiness. if you want to confirm this for me (my failure as artist, writer, & mother) feel free to check out my patreon page.
so there is my way past due update, dear reader…
ps. i do not have internet (but would accept it as a gift) so any online postings are sporadic at best
motherhood have i ever felt more defeated? more hopeless? helpless…. i am never going to win i wail to the moon a new moon somewhere lost in the clouds & sun like me lost trying to renew… i’m never going to win i sigh as if this is a game motherhood.
i have been busy. writing. arting. surviving. i keep on drawing because i do not want to drown in my own emotions.
i’m staring out the window of a bus a bus parked forever more in the hills of western wisconsin clouds, forests, wildflowers, birds, & bugs (so many bugs) are right outside my window & all i feel is paralyzed trapped unable to move forward because renting requires income getting a loan requires income & i am on a bus with four kids my ex-husband trying to lure me back to him back to life in an apartment with him & each day i think a little more seriously about committing that crime about sacrificing myself to make sure my kids have a roof over their heads…. i just wish i could look at this amazing view & feel free & feel inspired & feel hopeful instead of feeling doomed but right now i have no idea how to be that person how to be anything but miserable & alone.
though i am not posting as much as i usually do as i am struggling with depression right now as well as the instability of being homeless–er, between homes, rather…. but i will try to get pen to paper & get some new posts up over there soon.
i’m on the email list apparently for my old co-op & keep getting emails about the upcoming reunion fuck me i want to burn that place to the ground i moved in there full of hope i escaped there a jaded & broken person people are liars. people don’t even know they are liars. but they are liars. they lie to themselves. they lie to you. they lie to me. they pretend they want social justice they pretend they want to make the world a better place they pretend they care about you they are motherfucking hypocrites….
the carpet folks who saved my mom’s basement (where i live) have not been paid i contacted my siblings before calling in help with the flooded basement everyone told me to go ahead call in professionals the professionals came…did their job well…and saved the carpet & wood siding now no one is paying them i don’t have the money my mom does my siblings do not me in my stupid stupidity moving here so my siblings could forget about this place now my heart hurts for a carpet company who was unintentionally scammed by me it seems am i a liar? if i knew then, what i know now i would have let this place sink into the mud.
in one week i will rent a u-haul & go in a general direction i have no destination just a general direction hoping beyond hope i will somehow land on my feet once more.
open a beer or open a vein whiskey shot to the head or gunshot you don’t know you don’t know me & how it feels sometimes to try every day to be a mother to these ones every day every day every day i make this decision bag of wine or bag over the head? relish these years when they are little they say kids grow up so fast you don’t want to miss it they say miss it? i am deep as fuck in it living it despite myself every day
have you ever heard of “highly spirited children?” yeah. i have four of those. they are wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, funny, explosive, screamy, dramatic little things. i love them dearly, but sometimes i find my thoughts wandering over to the dark side. right now they are with their dad–who again–challenged our placement agreement. whenever he does, i examine my determination to keep being their primary caretaker–to make sure i am not doing it for selfish or controlling reasons. i discovered that even though i sometimes think i am a crap-ass mom…i completely believe it is best for our children to have me as a primary caretaker. even though i sometimes feel i am going insane with the stress of being a single mom & of raising four strong-willed children, i think i owe them that little bit of stability that being with me gives them. i have been there for them since day one. i have a commitment to them. so, sure, sometimes i think dark thoughts, but hopefully–expressing those dark thoughts will help me work out those demons so i can be a better mom. that’s important to me, being a good mom. not a traditional or conventional mom, but the mom they need me to be. a crazy-ass mom who (most the time) can roll with the punches.
ps. i don’t drink box wine or else i would have known to call it box wine not bag of wine. oh well….
though i feel comfort at the thought of a no-more a never-more i am invested in this story & long to know how it will unfold will i laugh? will i cry? i will not stop turning the pages of my life even if at times i feel like setting the book down & walking the fuck away, i come back i come back i pick up where i left off my story this is not the end.
originally posted on august 31, 2018
another one towards the one day realization of the invisible exhibitionist.
i tore up so many versions of this. i am still not completely happy with the final…but there is a lot i like about it too. i am not sure why i went with lewis carroll’s drawing of alice for this one. i do know that i have always loved this illustration. when i re-did it, i worked from my version of the illustration, without looking at his, which is my habit. to work from my own art that i first borrowed from someone else…. if that makes sense.
anyhoo! i noticed that this as well as my last post are about survival & not doing myself in as the little voices sometimes suggest…so that’s nice.