when i was a little girl
i had a big, black tomcat named
that farm cat
was my best friend
i bonded with him
in that special way a child
can lose her heart
to an animal
my dad shot & killed midnight
an event he joked about
for years after
did he know
he killed a part of me
did he care?
funny how one event
in a young child’s life
can fuck up that person
for ever after
can crush a child’s ability
to find love
to have normal relationships
with neither animal
so my parents are here
& my mom may or may not
i honestly can not tell
what is senility
& what is a fucked-up
but she keeps telling stories
about the only cat she ever liked
& she keeps calling that cat
finally my sister corrected her
& told her that the cat
she is thinking of
was actually named “licorice”
(which is my mom’s favorite candy…
so how could she forget?)
and my mom replied,
“then who was midnight?”
& my whole world went red
as forty years of rage
poured out of me
& at my parents
i have only once before
gotten that angry
& that was when i found my ex-husband
making out with another woman
just one block from our new home
where we were
at least this time i
won’t get a citation
for disorderly conduct….
for all my screaming
for as much as it relieves
that certain pressure
on my soul
for all my screaming
they still didn’t hear me
but maybe i can start healing
*i’m sure there are more than one…but this one is monumental
she is the reason
i divorce so easily
she is the reason
i fear relationships
they are the reason
it is the two together
i don’t want to end up trapped
trapped in a marriage
to a man
like my father
losing my mind
so i run
live in fear
craving a connection
replulsed by romance.
this self-portrait pretty much captures how i feel right now.
like there is not much of me left.
a demon me with a halo of stars.
little bits of me.
flying away in the wind.
so dusty is down here to help me. and he has been so much help because as it turns out, i can barely deal with being in the same room with my parents. i am constantly nauseated and crawling out of my skin and looking for a place to hide.
so dusty was a life-saver…. except. i dunno. i was being nice to him–affectionate–trying to make sure he was surviving okay. doing for him what i would want done for me.
but i guess that was the wrong thing to do?
because then he got pissed off at me for sending mixed messages?
yelled at me and accused me of hurting him.
what the what?
so now even more of me has shut down.
i feel like i am barely functional.
my parents are here–they started my destruction.
dusty is here–he finished me off.
all my best destroyers in one house for the holidays.
when i was a kid
i coped by mentally packing
what will i take?
where will i go?
what will i do?
when i was in an abusive
by mentally packing
what will i take?
where will i go?
what will i do?
have led me back
to my childhood
& the precarious situation
of having my parents
my brain is already
look at dodo bird me.
i wish i could say things with my folks were magically healing and wonderful. that my mom gave me a hug and said, “sorry i was such a crap-ass mom.” and then dad would apologize for being an asshole. and then unicorns would dance across rainbows.
my mom is not talking to me. my dad is avoiding me.
mom only talks to complain about me and to sing dusty’s praises–loudly in front of me. apparently he is a better daughter than i have ever been. for the life of me, i cannot think of anything i have done to her.
whatever it was it must have been super awful.
i had dusty come down. he has the super powers of a sociopath where he can be in the trenches and not be effected.
not mentally & emotionally
dusty is literally a life-saver in this situation.
you can’t hurt me
i will hurt
i will hurt myself
you can’t degrade me
i will push myself
i will mock
i will revel in my own
is it obvious i have been looking at the artwork of egon scheiele? wow. if you haven’t looked at his artwork…wow. lots of cocks & twats though, so don’t leave it laying out in mixed company.
i am trapped in the country with my parents.
the only way i made it out of the airport when i went to pick them up was to start wondering if i could use the experience in my artwork.
fuck a duck. i almost started crying. fuck a duck. does anyone else have parents like this? as soon as they came into view they were bitching about each other. and then at each other. and my mom kept telling the poor airport attendants about how awful my dad is. and the airport attendants were asking me if i needed help (both my parents were in wheel chairs) and i’m sure my eyes were begging them to help me–but, by god, i could not think of anything they could do other than wheeling my parents back onto the plane….
and crazy does as crazy needs–i immediately texted dusty for help.
i’m sure it is somehow his fault. so i asked for his help.
and, of course, he is coming….
but two negatives make a positive…right?
ps. i am not sure which is worse–when my mom is yelling at my dad…or when she is cuddling up to him.
i need therapy.
i used to joke
“will this be the christmas
somehow kept us alive
my dysfunctional family
two years in a row
someone i loved
right around christmas time
my parents have
to visit me
right back into my head
so i drew my bottom half the way i always drew christmas trees when i was a kid. does anyone see that? i liked that idea.
my folks, whom i am estranged from–yet whose house i live in–are coming back to visit me? my kids? their house?
and i am terrified.
i think it triggered a lot of the darker stuff i have been posting in the last few days, their planned visit.
my parents…let me tell you about my parents….
(it’s a bladerunner reference…i’m not really going to tell you about my parents. that is a whole series of psychology books)
i wanted to believe him
oh how badly i wanted to believe
that he really loved me
really wanted me
really saw now what he had done
how he had
i wanted so badly to believe
he really had changed
that things could really be
that there was hope still
even though the nagging little voices
in my head
assured me he had not changed
pointing out the little red flags
scattered around him
dusty and i were perfect and in love once. so so so in love. it was a long time ago. he was the center of my universe…and i’m sure i somehow fit into his universe.
and then i got pregnant with fidgit.
and everything changed.
i changed, my focus changed, shifted. dusty was no longer the center of my universe. he had to share the spotlight.
and dusty changed. a person emerged that i had never met before. a cold person. a cruel and judgemental person.
and that was the beginning of the end.
i was surprised when he started up with the love and adoration this last time. i guess i shouldn’t have been. i guess i should have remembered he will do anything he has to do to keep the status quo. but i was surprised because it has been awhile since he acted as if i were important to him. usually i am just a piece of the puzzle…but he started acting as if i were the puzzle itself. every piece.
but i told him “no” because i have to hold close the hurt he caused me so i don’t forget. like snapping a rubber band on my wrist whenever i want to believe dusty actually cares.
and last night i got my proof that i was right to do so.
while he was wooing me to keep our family together, apparently he decided to cover his bets & he also got back in touch with the woman he used to try to destroy me. the poor delusional twat who he would lie to as much as he would lie to me–except she believed him. i don’t know if she was crazy before he got a hold of her, but she was crazy by the end.
so, yay, they are back together.
i told me so.
(i just realized that if we had stayed married, today would be our 14 year anniversary)
my sun sign
is a cautious one
a suspicious one
keeping her shell close at hand
just in case.
i will run head long
into a disastrous relationship…
while carefully skirting
my chances for
a healthy one
what the what
does that even make sense?
i run from the chance to be
why do i do that?
just know that today
i am choosing to stand
these epiphanies are brought to you courtesy of a facebook messenger conversation with a boy i met on an online dating site.
i don’t know if he is good news or bad. i guess that remains to be discovered. what i do know is that as soon as i realized he was in fact interested in me (after three weeks of messaging,) i freaked the fuck out.
who knows why.
but i can tell you, the same thing happened when i was a teenager and a cute, sweet boy i had a crush on showed me interest. and again when i was in my twenties, when a sane & sweet one was in love with me.
but what about all those assholes i threw myself at without a second thought?
i have no idea what is wrong with me.
and i am done analyzing myself.
now it is just time to re-write the script.
as i said yesterday, it is time to heal.
so i am going on a date, y’all.
after some really awkward and sad flirting (i am NOT good at flirting even on my best day) i am going on a date.
so, assuming he is not a serial killer, i am no longer running away.