more comic doodles

titled: notes from the motherhood

i’ve begun to fantasize about billy bob thornton

billy bob: these children giving you a hard time, ma’am?
i can take care of them for you….

my thinking: i’m not sure what he means by “take care of”
but at this point i’m ready to roll those dice.it has been a hard time at madness manor while children’s nastiness runs at full speed. i am not sure how many of them wished me dead yesterday. i wonder if those parents who spank & do worse are actually doing the right thing because being a kind & affectionate mom seems to be failing miserably? will they grow up to be nice adults despite being assholes as kids? i was physically & emotionally abused as a child–which prevented me from being an asshole–but now i am a hot mess of a grown up. will it work opposite for my kids?
these are the things i wonder as they scream horrible things merely because they did not get what they wanted….
to beat or not to beat my kids?
i do not have the stomach to be an abusive parent…but i can write comics!

obviously i need to look at what billy bob thornton actually looks like. i plan to practice that with some google pics….
meanwhile, i did doodle some pictures of nasty little children
& one doodle of one of my actual children, but not looking nasty today. pleasant children mostly today….

broken spell

i don’t feel it
anymore
when he is near
the spell is broken
the electricity gone
i feel
affection
fondness
thinking only of him
as a friend
someone
to talk to
i don’t feel it anymore
that need
to be inside his skin
to have him touch me
in every
possible
way
…now
i feel whole
without him
the spell is broken.

my ex-husband lost his job recently due to covid politics. i offered him a place to stay since he won’t have the income to pay his rent & will most likely be looking for a job closer to me & the kids.
i worried that this proximity might spark something as it has been a little over a year since our last (final final final) breakup.
i mean, i am trying to be realistic. obviously, after 12 years of an on-again/off-again relationship, how can i be sure that there will not be another on-again?
but i feel no attraction to him. yay! even after he brought me whiskey & has been all sweet.

and just the other day i read through my pages for my future book (the invisible exhibitionist) as i put it on a thumb drive to mail to my publisher (are you ready for that, tara?)
so many writings of my torrid relationship with the dad…so so many.
which inspired me to draw this page in the style of my self-portrait period.

contrary

i want love
i am not lovable
i want a man in my life
men suck
i want a relationship
no one wants to be near me

there’s a quick trip into my head. yay–fun! sometimes i’m all–yes! time to open up to the possibility of love. usually quickly followed by–who the fuck would ever love me?
my tarot cards are predicting a time of relationship building…& i did see a tall dark stranger on a walk in my hometown….
but of course i’m being ridiculous.
i will die a lonely mom.

broken

when you grow up broken
how do you learn to feel
whole?
when you grow up without
love
how do you learn to be
loved?

this thought was prompted by watching the second season of the end of the f***ing world (a very good netflix show.)

of course it is a thought that made a lot of sense to me. i wonder…do i even know what love feels like? my tarot cards are telling me of relationships…of moving past being injured to value myself & allow myself to be valued. but what does that look like?
do you think i can draw a picture of that?

help me

help me, mother
help me, father
i cry to the parents
i never had
the parents who
never taught me
how to be
help me, cosmic mama
show me, cosmic da
be gentle
with me
hold me; soothe me
chase away my demons.

this might be my admitting that i do need parents. the parents i got were pretty bad. some moments of good…but all in all, a crapfest. is it too late for me to appeal to some universal parents? to admit that i can’t do this on my own?

i did find myself watching a woodpecker outside the window of my house as it ate ants off of a fruiting tree, thinking to myself, my dead dad led me here…to this house. thinking that maybe it was a gift from him, from wherever he is now. an apology? an attempt to not be a shitstorm of a dad?

maybe if i open myself up to the parenting that i have been refusing ever since i figured out my parents where not going to give me what i needed (sadly, i figured this out at a very young age)…maybe if i open myself up now to being parented? maybe….

wishes

i spend all of my wishes
desperately
holding my family
together
every wish on every star
to counter act
the wishes they make
against each other
against themselves
every eleven eleven
a prayer for a truce
an end to the fighting
i have no wishes
left over
for me.

this is kind of a reflection of something a lot of parents go through, i think. giving everything to your children & having nothing left despite the advice of self-care for better parenting…

i suppose every family fights? i have only known two families, my birth family & the one i have made. it seems that fighting is genetic.
but still it empties me out. watching siblings torture each other & then cry that they are not loved….

and then i wonder if it is my fault. if i have done something to make peace an unattainable goal. if my monstrosity is what fuels their bitter fights. something they learned from me despite all my efforts to not be a monster…. especially when i find myself wishing i could make a wish for me sometimes.

tolerating the intolerable

one of my gifts
my dysfunctional super powers
one of the survival instincts
that kicked in
early
was an ability
to tolerate
intolerable
situations
breathe through
breath held
one day at a time
with the prize in sight
always
with my eyes on that prize
…escape
ignoring with all my might
the pain
surrounding
me
until the day
i would no longer
have to.

i spent my abusive childhood waiting for the day i could run away. i moved out of that house the week i graduated high school.
in every dysfunctional relationship, i plotted my escape. tolerating the intolerable until i could safely leave.
all the messed up places i have lived…i pretended it wasn’t so bad until the day i could move away.

motherhood is the only place i refuse to do that…
wait…or am i doing it? holding myself just together enough until the day my spawn finally fly away from me….
fuck…how can i even tell? it has become second nature.

free flying

so many times
of my angel & demon
fighting
for the dominant
shoulder
my thinking
i’m a terrible person
when i let my
demon
fly free
…now
i find myself

thinking
“huh”
maybe my demon
should
have the reins
maybe my demon
knows
best.

i am not sure my demon knows best. some pretty dark thoughts have rattled around in my head these past few days. long story short, demons & motherhood are a dangerous mix….
but i do value my demons. i always have. they have some great ideas & give my life so much texture & color!
they do get me in trouble…but now i find myself wondering if that is so bad. maybe creating a little trouble is a good thing. shaking things up. maybe if i didn’t fear the opinions of others & worry that i am upsetting someone or another….
yup. still doing the dance of finding balance. of finding me.

solitary

instead of feeling awkwardly
self-conscious
when i am alone
in a crowd
i have embraced
my solitary
state
i hold my head high
no longer worried
that people are judging me
because i
am no longer
judging me.

i don’t know if people notice my awkwardness at public events. i do know that i have pulled off just looking aloof & unapproachable (based on what people have told me) even when feeling like i am sticking out like a big sore thumb who shouldn’t even be there….
but i wrote this after realizing i could just embrace being solitary rather than feel self-conscious about it.
huh.
a change in perspective is always nice.

notorious

i would rather be
notorious
than notable
an outlaw outcast
rather than a
celebrated saint
i would rather
run with the wolves
than be a
pampered pet
figuring out who i am
is as much about
figuring out
who i am not.

epiphanies while out in public…the other moms clustered together while i hold my own….
again, trying to shake that idea that i am wrong for not wanting to pack up with who society says i should be packing up with.
lady lone wolf….
i like realizing that i am okay with being the dark stranger…but i do need to be careful not to take it too far.
like everything else, i do need to maintain balance.

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