he’s built the groundwork
for my psychotic break
just one word
& the grasp
i so desperately hold
on my reality
so many careful years
just building on
to damage done
by my parents
by other men
i even handed him
that he would not hurt me
though my ever-faithful tarot cards (as well as every other experience i have ever had with dusty) warned me there would be conflict and that it was best if i did not engage…just let it blow over…holy fuck, he knows how to get me to engage. i try so hard to walk away. i say over & over, “i don’t want to talk about it.” but dusty is relentless until there is nothing left of me. just a glimpse of who i used to be as i morph into something i never want to be.
one of my parents.
this was our last dance.
i asked for a sign, and i got it.
there is nothing left here.
i need to move forward.
like, nine years ago…but better late than never.
this journal page is dedicated to my friend nexus who has been very supportive & encouraging of my art…and who knows how it feels to burn at the stake ❤
before my whole fucktardery with dusty…
while my witchy friend was visiting, she & i read each other’s tarot cards. my near future card was the queen of swords. a card that often shows up in my spread–especially regarding dusty. the queen of swords has a high moral position and expects others to live up to it as well.
so is this a good thing?
a bad thing?
just a thing?
it’s true of me. i do expect a lot of myself & the same from others. dusty has never hesitated to fall under my sword.
then i’m all like–am i being too cruel? expecting too much? not accepting him for who he is?
i am the queen of swords.
off with his head.
as i protect myself & re-enforce walls that i had to build after letting him break my heart too many times, dusty does a dance & tries to appeal to my nurturing side. he is trying to get me to rescue him. he wants me to save him. he is trying to be sad & helpless while never admitting that he has done anything wrong.
so i’m going to go ahead & hold onto that queen of swords
because even though i am hurting right now
i know i am going to recover again
faster this time
& i need to make sure i finally remember this lesson
remember this heartbreak
& not let it happen again
for real this time.
who would i be
if my tender heart
didn’t break so easily?
who would i be
if i didn’t fall in love
& love & love & love?
it would be nice to
i hope i never have to
so i’ve drawn me as a mermaid, as a unicorn, and riding a dragon. i thought, you know what i haven’t been? a centaur.
misha says to me, “i love this picture so much.”
& that’s just the love i need.
holy moly i am so out of sorts.
it’s a january thunderstorm. i quit drinking & facebook all in the same week. i’m already feeling all rejected by the men of “okcupid”–though the men there do seem way cooler than the men of “plenty of fish.” my kids are on overdrive and i keep thinking, “if i can barely deal with my life, how can i ever expect to find someone to jump in & be all–yes! this is what i want.”
other than dusty, who would jump back in in a heartbeat. which is a tempting thought sometimes when i am lonely & frazzled and then i have to remind myself of all the crap he has done to me. all the crap he says to me. and the crap i feel like when he is around.
and my berkey water filter has quit working.
all while i’m reading future home of the living god. reading books, as an empath, is risky. i get waaaaaay way too into the plot & characters and actually lose myself.
so i am currently lost in a dystopian nightmare.
and my end-of-the-world water filter has gone kaput.
i am so out of sorts.
i’m trying to draw this comic, but my kids are so super needy. plus there is laundry & dishes & food to make.
and i am crawling out of skin.
did i mention the winter thunderstorms of doom?
okay. here is an okcupid story to cheer us all up.
someone from the small town i live in messaged me via okcupid to tell me i should check out his profile and told me how he had read mine twice before he messaged me.
so, hey, he’s not physically my type, but i go check out his profile. first off, i see he is looking for a woman who owns a pair of heels and actually wears them–who dresses up every now & then.
the highest heels i own are on my motorcycle boots.
then he goes on to say in the “message me if…” that a woman should message him if she agrees that she should wear stockings & heels in the bedroom.
he says he read my profile twice?
i go on & on about sustainability in my profile & refer to myself as punk rock.
i don’t have on any make-up in my photos…i don’t even know how to put on make-up. my hair is short & messy–like it always is. (i’m assuming here that if he wants a woman to dress up every now & then he probably expects make-up and hair done.)
and in the “6 things i can’t live without” section, i have listed as my number one thing: barefeet….
what woman who values barefeet would put on heels ever–especially in the bedroom??
why would dude think i was his type at all?
why not just have “message me if you are a warm body”?
internet dating is so weird.
re-cap: end of the world, y’all, and my water filter is not working & i am still alone & lonely.
plus i have no beer.
wanting so badly to matter
to be noticed
wanting so badly
to be loved
all that happens is i fall prey to those
who would use my supreme loneliness against me
to whom i am just a toy for their amusement
just a game to them
& i fall for it
in my believing
when my empathic heart
it is a kaleidoscope
washing over me
burrowing inside me
traveling through me
borrowing my tears
& my smiles
& no drug–or other person–could ever
make me feel
like i do
when my heart is wide open
& i am safe
the world around me
all of its beauty…its light & its darkness
this is me
this is mine
this is who i am & who i want to be
an open heart
when the minions are away, i have the opportunity to do things i cannot do when they are here. this is one. spreading my art all over the kitchen table. i love doing that. then i work on it, walk past it, add to it, debate over it, smudge & splatter and just be my art. ink ink everywhere.
makes me happy.
other things i do when i am alone: talk to myself, revel in the bathroom being clean, binge watch shows on netflix, focus on myself & my healing….
sometimes being alone is a good thing.
as i let my dogs out into this unseasonable & warm january day, i started sobbing. beautiful weather sponsored by big oil. beautiful weather thanks to climate change. this same beautiful weather in the middle of illinois in the middle of winter, means droughts in other parts of the world. hurricanes & tsunamis in other parts of the world. famine & wild fires in other parts of the world. and if this beautiful weather continues here, the plants will be fooled into thinking it is spring and then a cold snap will kill them as they try to bloom. this warm january day means scorching heat in the summer…or even in the spring.
that’s what we are. we are enjoying the beautiful weather…despite the consequences. refusing to change and ignoring the consequences. the environment is just one level of the game we are playing…and losing.
i have been depressed for three days now. with reason. the world is a mess. my country is a mess. but turn on the tv & everything is okay. turn on the news and it is someone else who is suffering. not you. so, carry on.
sometimes being an empath really really really fucking sucks.
i can feel the pain in the air. the pain of this world.
i can feel it.
and it hurts.
if it hurts me, imagine how it feels to whomever, whatever is actually experiencing the pain.
and while i am getting enough sleep, i am tired to my bones.