every time i go to get myself adjusted at the local energy worker/chiropractor, i have little epiphanies & find little things for me to work on inside myself. this time it was an urge to see if my inner mother was around now that my birth mother has died. i have never been able to locate an inner mother nor to figure out how to nurture myself. i am hoping that now i will be able to do that. in a somewhat related note, i realized today, that all of my suicidal & self-destructive thinking stopped the day my mother died–even though i did not know she was dead. huh….
do oddballs get happily ever afters hallmark family photos where the dad is smiling being a dad do weirdos get second chances after they choose the wrong guy hallmark family photos where the stepdad is smiling loving the kids as if they were his own do freaks get white picket fences & sunday dinners & a shoulder to cry on instead of one that turns away?
feeling a bit like the orphan looking through the window of a happy family. i know there is no such thing as normal & hallmark moments…or is that just something we misfits tell ourselves to make it through the night? i know social media is designed to make everyone & every life look perfect & enviable… but i still sometimes cry, knowing that there really is–on that profile page–a man who knows how to be there for his wife & kids, and that there is oh so definitely not a man like that in my life. never has been in my life not my dad not either of my husbands not one of the dozens of men i’ve dated….
and i cannot bring myself to believe that the odds are that tilted against me. then i know it must be me. then i feel stupid, awkward, ugly, & unwanted. not even an orphan…i am a stray dog with three legs and matted fur bound to be euthanized when no one adopts me.
i would apologize for the melodramatic pity party…but i feel too sad & gross.
just for the record– i am almost never naked in real life (and my wings are not so visible)…the nudity is symbolic of my bearing myself via my art journal self-portrait series. also, it is an effort to normalize natural bodies. or that’s what i tell myself. maybe i just don’t want to bother drawing clothes….
to avoid having needs met i seek out impossible men seek out self-fulfilling prophesies teaching me to forget my needs bury them deep it is not safe to need close down after all you don’t need anyone do you? need leads to want need leads to betrayal need leads to pain how can i open myself to need when i have taught myself so thoroughly that need hurts?
so. when i was a kid, my parents didn’t meet my needs. they wouldn’t or couldn’t. instead of becoming more needy, i shut down. i decided that if they wouldn’t meet my needs, i wouldn’t have any. seriously. if you read in one of my fallen posts about how i was the “good” one–they thought i was good because i never asked for anything. nothing. i refused to give them the chance to not meet my needs. i knew they would reject me–so i didn’t give them a chance to. so so so fucked up. what kid doesn’t need? this one. then of course, i grew into a woman who dated men incapable of meeting my needs. so. i didn’t have any. or if i did, i buried them deep until they became a molten core of anger & hate. resenting people for not being who i needed them to be as i refused to admit i had needs. basically, i suspect everyone is eventually going to reject me, so i never let myself need anyone.
long story short, i am extremely self-reliant and independent…but i am now unable to need anyone–thereby i don’t connect with people on one basic human level.
working the healing wheel by maeanna welti has been pretty awesome. at each season on the wheel, there is focus on an area to heal. samhain was fear. solstice was needs. i am still working solstice…but looking forward to what i will learn about myself come imbolic.
he told me
he was a chameleon
yet i still fell prey
when he found his way
into my heart
& even some things
i fell in love
it makes sense
that i left him
the story of my ex-husband is a sad story. his story is sad. his childhood was a nightmare. he became a narcissist & a chameleon because he did not know how else to cope. or, that is my take on it anyway.
i realized recently why he seems so attractive to me sometimes. he is literally adopting my personality as his own…or at least one aspect of his personality is mirrored from me. he is adopting my words, my style of dress, how i relate to our children, and even my neurosis.
it kind of blows my mind.
and then i feel really bad for him.
but it isn’t safe for me to feel bad for him.
so, instead, i draw pictures & write pages of verse to try to understand my own experience with it. to try to process my own experience…so i can heal & be stronger.
but, fuck, i wish so badly he could heal as well….
i tried so hard
to understand the pain in his heart
that caused him to be
so heinous to me
to treat me
like i was nothing
my trying to understand his pain
became his license
to hurt me more
& even though i explained to him
the pain in my heart
that caused me to be
cruel to him
he never listened
only holding on tighter
to his own pain
his own reasons
to hurt me.
yesterday i started crying
not because my four year old
was screaming at me
the entire drive home
to unbuckle his seat belt
so he could get out
not because of that
but because I had no one
to tell it to
to commiserate with
to vent to
to laugh about it with
i started crying
because the only one to fix me coffee
in the morning
the person i am in love with
does not love me back
& the father of my children
i cannot trust enough
to even have a conversation
& that leaves me
raising four kids
i don’t think i can pretend anymore that there is a snowball’s chance in hell that seymour feels the same way about me that i do about him.
and then i wonder, if he did magically write me back or call me or show up on my doorstep, would that change the hole in me?
i am asking seriously.
i mean–i know that only i can fix me. i know that. and i have spent like forty years working on that and am optimistic that i might have made some real headway. i estimate that there is only about forty more years of work left to do.
my question is
will another person…a person i love truly and who truly loves me back
should that person happen into my life
would that fix my lonely?
the lonely that seems to spin in my chest
a black hole
if the answer is no.
if that is the world we live in…
i’m not sure i want to live in that world. that “we are born alone; we die alone” world. that cynical and rational-minded world.
i was working on this last night. i felt sad doing it. i mean, it’s my way of putting dusty in the ground so he can’t hurt me anymore…but i still wish it were a different reality where i didn’t have to put dusty in the ground in order to feel safe.
so i saw the real dusty on monday to get the minions back. i started talking about how i had a couple of local WWOOFers interested in helping out on the homestead. dusty then got really quiet & weepy-eyed. when i asked if he was okay, he said it wasn’t the right place to talk.
then he texted me today to talk.
i hate talking on phones. of course he knows this, but never makes it so we can talk in person & refuses to have written correspondances.
so i called him.
he wanted to know why i had tear streaks on my face when i came to pick up the kids. i honestly answered, “i don’t know. i am just generally sad.” which i am. not the greatest way to be, but i am. i am also generally happy. i told him, “i am sad about ways my life has gone.”
then he asked other stuff and before long we were in an argument.
he wants me to still love him & still want him.
i want to feel safe.
he is upset that i am turning to strangers for help when he is willing to help.
but his help comes with too much baggage.
and emotional abuse.
i told him that he has “narcissistic tendencies.”
then when i was talking about how i have to watch what i say around him & don’t want to have to change my personality to avoid misunderstandings with him he basically said, “who’s narcissistic now?”
so you might understand why it is just easier to use a katana….
i have started doing rough drafts because i really don’t like using pencils…even blue ones. so this is the rough for my next page.
are you excited?
(and a little sad)
before i met & married dusty and had an on-again/off-again dysfunctional relationship from hell with him…i had a practice run for two years with his kentucky twin.
in 1996 just after i lost the best boy i’d ever known, i fell in with this narcissistic, emotionally abusive asshole.
it should have just been a rebound…but he was so good at manipulating me that it lasted for two awful years. he conned me out of thousands of dollars, put my ego in the crapper, and cheated on me like crazy.
this poem was written about six months in.
i should have read these journals back when stuff started going funny with dusty. i had no idea what a narcissist was–not really. nor that they preyed on people like me…people with too much empathy.
i had no idea.
i thought it was love.
just like i thought it was love that kept me with dusty no matter how much of a fuck he was to me.
i should publish these journals as a warning.
so i’m not done yet…but i am still working on it!
i really like it so far, which makes me all the more worried about fucking it up.
but i am still working on it.
i have this idea that i would like every page to be able to stand on its own. so that is another challenge.
meanwhile, i guess the minions are off to wisconsin today. dusty was going to come here to stay for a few weeks instead of the minions leaving here. but just the anticipation of his being here was turning me into an ugly unbalanced madwoman. finally, yesterday, after learning of another lie he’d told me (regarding some mutual friends) i spun out & told him he could not stay here.
he wants to move closer & wants me to help him by letting him stay here & job hunt, etc.
which, in theory, makes sense.
but in practice will chip away at my soul.
it is difficult balancing my desire to help with my knowledge of how he likes to take advantage of my desire to help.
but now instead of being angry & angry…i am just sad that i will not see my minions for a week.
and relieved that dusty is not going to be here.
it’s like he thinks we can be a happy family again, but he won’t stop being an abusive narcissist.
i no longer want to be a family with him…but i know there is no escaping his being my children’s father.
maybe that’s why i’m killing him off in my dystopian fantasy world….
when last we left off with our hero, she was slaying zombies in the forest while foraging for supplies….
actually, i started a new episode after this called “the return of dusty.” but it puttered out.
i have been trying to get it re-started…but i really don’t think i want dusty in my story anymore. i think it is time to write dusty out of the script.
which i did, last night. i have yet to draw it though.
meanwhile, the real dusty is threatening to come visit. i am torn. while i wish i lived in a world where i never had to see him or his hell-spawn of a mother again…i also hate the idea of my minions going away to wisconsin again to spend a week with him & his hell-spawn of a mother again.
it is one of those things i have severe anxiety/control issues about. i mean i became a stay-at-home mom when i realized i could not leave my child at home. instead i was taking baby fidgit with me when i went out to pick up stray animals. he was sitting in on dog evaluations with me at the humane society where i was employed when he was born.
realizing i could not leave him, i quit my job.
i know i cannot control their lives. it just seems dumb to let him take them to wisconsin when he doesn’t even know what the fuck he is doing with his life.
he is taking my minions to live in his limbo.
it just seems dumb.
so my choices are to let them go…or deal with dusty in my space.
fuck a duck.
so i am currently trying to figure out which hurts less….
in other news. i am having a crisis of faith with my art.
i guess that’s not really news….
today i tried to read a comic book & found i could not. comic books seem dumb to me now. maybe not all of them, but definitely the mainstream ones.
i tried to post my page that i made yesterday (archangel carl) on a facebook group called “women creating comics” along with my lament about my crisis of faith…but as soon as someone started suggesting things i could do to make my art more “acceptable” to the comic world, i deleted my post & almost quit the group.
what would van gogh do?
oh! i almost forgot! (thank goodness for blog titles)
so we recently entered year of the dog. i was born in the year of the dog. i looked back, and other than my 12th year, i could remember having a life changing event in every year of the dog since my birth. maybe there was one when i was 12 too–i just can’t remember for sure. in retrospect, every decision i made in my years of the dog were the wrong ones.
so this year
i am determined to get it right.
to be true to myself and to stay true to my path.
whatever it may be.
so with the first full moon of this lunar year…i am struggling to find the path that i have determined i should stick to….
wish me luck.