don’t put that in your mouth (a cautionary tale)

you ever been with a guy…not really a boyfriend…just some guy & you’re messing around with him & maybe he’s just given you some pretty lackluster oral & now he expects you to return the favor but instead of asking he just starts pushing your head towards his crotch?
and you wish you could say, “hey! motherfucker, use your words. i’m a person, not a sex toy,” but instead you just play dumb until he gets all frustrated & pitches a fit like a demented toddler, muttering “it takes two to tango” reminding me of my psychotic school bus driver….
and is there anything scarier than naked adult male anger when all you want is to feel safe & valued? don’t you just want to go back in time to protect younger, dumber you? to kick those assholes in the balls & say, “who the fuck are you to treat me like this?”

this came pouring out of me at 2am this morning when i was trying to fall asleep. twenty-four years after it happened.
why did i contact him again? why did i still think of him as a “good guy” despite my most vivid memory of him being his yelling, “it takes two to tango!” when i didn’t want to suck his cock?
why do i convince myself–why do i second guess myself–why do i tell myself it’s no big deal when it is?
like when my boyfriend punched the wall so hard he broke his hand because i wasn’t having as much sex with him as he wanted?
at least he wasn’t punching me–right?
at least he wasn’t raping me–right?
so i tolerate it? i spin it in my head. say, “he didn’t mean it. he was just ___” fill in the blank with whatever will convince you to stay when you really really should go.

i had a dream that i was in a deranged & dangerous building that has been a regular dream location. however, in this dream the other night, i knew it was the last time i would be there. hopefully the building represented toxic men.

“good night”
8X10 inking on watercolor paper
$45

art journal art therapy

this is what i was working on with me
right before i crashed
it is safe to suggest
that i am reacting to my own efforts
to shine
by now
feeling extreme sadness
a sinking sort of
hopelessness
in a similar vein
i have begun having a reoccurring dream
that i am swimming in waters
that i am terrified are shark-infested…
but the waters are clear
in one of the dreams
i was trying to keep little me safe
(also a reoccurring theme lately)
in another
i am having fun interacting with other adults…
i suspect
the waters are me…
i fear i am infested with sharks when in fact my waters are clear?

ack.

a sort of madness

my core is a wet
soggy
mess
a newspaper forgotten
in the rain
as
dreams bring me echoes
of a time when i could have
clung
to him
as if he were my port
in the storm
a time when i was still
capable
of adoration
when this man
could invoke
a sort of madness in me
that felt
so
so fucking
good.

isn’t it a mindfuck that dreams can do this? pull you back in time to a different reality that you hoped would never end? and yet it did
so you wake up with such a heavy sad heart….
dreams of dusty…but it could also be dreams of the one before him who had my heart. just two men really who can claim that “prize” despite my having been with
so many more than just two….
so i wonder…will i ever feel that sort of madness again?
& if i don’t…is that a bad thing…or a good one?

without smooches

as the universe prepares
to dazzle me
with its vast mysteries
i just keep myself wondering
if i will ever get laid
again
for what is enlightenment
worth
without smooches

i did this page backwards. i inked an illustration and then wrote a thought around it. really. i could be having non-stop epiphanies & be the most brilliant thing in the universe…but i would still be all like, yeah–but am i pretty?

in other news, last night i had a nightmare that i remarried my ex-husband. in the dream i was lamenting the marriage just after it happened. wondering when i could divorce him again.
i have never been happier to wake up in the morning.
so–i might be lonely, but i’m not desperate.

dreaming

i dreamed last night that i quite easily allowed
myself to be wooed by a pretty man full of
flattery & affection. he was a teacher who
was neglecting his students & i noted this
(as one of the students) but supported his
behavior anyway. by the end of the dream
he was tossing me aside to pursue another
woman. this woman, however, saw &
was repulsed by his shallow nature & easily
rejected him. i applauded her rejection of
him & validated it while vilifying the man…
still aware of my own seemingly shallow
nature in so eagerly encouraging his
affections previously….

a waking dream a few mornings back. it had a large impact on me…made me examine who i am and what i have learned about myself–especially concerning relationships and skeezy men. maybe it loops back to yesterday’s post about knowing what i am capable of.
can i be in a relationship right now? am i healthy enough? self-aware enough?
hmmm.
jury’s still out on this one.

april fools

my world feels like it is falling down
around me
so why does my subconscious
take this time
to bring you alive
again
some cosmic april fool’s joke
waking from dreams
into more dreams
of you.

so many praying hands! then i realized i also had praying hands in yesterday’s inking…which i did not realize when i was doing this one.
what am i trying to manifest in my life right now? peace? faith? grounding?
trust in myself? trust in my path?
why so many praying hands?
also i am doing daily tarot card draws. a me card & a conflict card. yesterday was the tower card crossed by the inverted nine of swords (massive suffering) making me wonder if two negatives make a positive in tarot…. but when i drew the cards i was all, “yup…me crashing and burning…again”
today is a little better. today is six of swords crossed by sacrifice. six of swords is slow path to healing–the sacrifice card (for me) references issues of control (i get that one a lot.)
and i checked my journal…it was february 20th when i began this crash & burn, before that i was doing really really well.
too well.
now i am hopefully close to crawling out of the demolished tower of me to rebuild…again.

dreamscape

under layers
& layers
of dreams
never
truly knowing
if i am awake
or have just
woken
to another
dream
the
vulnerability
of sleep
grips me
tight
&
i fear for things
I cannot
name
trapped
in a world
i created.

wrestling with demons

i literally
wrestled my demons
in a dream
last night
exorcising
what once felt like
a terrible
haunting
& finding
only
a child
in pain.

re-cap, condensed version of the post about my dream.

on dreams, demons, & being haunted

in the dream
it was a lonely house
on a hill
shrouded in darkness
foreboding
terrifying
until i was forced to enter
to save us all
from a greater
danger…
the house was
beautiful
on the inside
…but haunted…
a specter
rose up
threateningly
behind my companion
i wrestled it to the ground
only to realize
it was just
a child
“tell me why
you have so much
anger?”
i asked the child
&
the pain
was
released.

so this is a dream i had. it was pretty profound & felt really meaningful. i laid in bed pondering it. what do i do with this?
am i supposed to help other people exorcise their demons? or is it just another pat on the back from the universe for doing all the work to wrestle my own?
of course, i am still wrestling my demons.
case in point, my inking today is heavily borrowed from the artist david mack because i am going through a thing where i think my own work sucks & what is the point?
today, while on a walk, i started asking my frowning face–“why so stressed? what is there really to be stressed about?” and for a moment i let myself smile again.
but i can find reasons to be sad & even woke up this morning to a dream of my telling someone that sometimes i just don’t have a smile inside me….

so, yeah, still wrestling some demons….

holiday drinking

the whiskey tastes like
cough syrup
something i have an aversion to
with vivid memories of
my nurse mother
forcing medications
&
sure enough
i go to sleep
& dream
of her
bowling with my mother
something
we never did
in the waking world….
this will not be
the first thanksgiving
without my mother
but it will be the first
since she has departed
this
reality….
instead of my annual
angst
this year
i feel
peace
&
balance
&
i am swearing off
the cough syrup
whiskey.

the peace & balance waxed & waned. this time of year i am lucky to feel any peace & balance, so i am not going to look that gift horse in the mouth.
i fixed a turkey for the first time ever. i played “mom” to my four children & two extra children & decided that the cough syrup whiskey wasn’t awful when mixed with eggnog.

this was the last page of this art journal that began on july 10th of this year. i inked on both sides of all the pages.

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