so much anger in this one

if i were a dude
the brontes would write a book about me
but i’m a chick…so i just get ostracized
for my anger.
smile, it’s not so bad.
smile, you’re beautiful when you smile.
smile, don’t you know anger is pointless?

you mean, anger is not” feminine”
not “attractive.”
if i were a dude,
i could start a war with all this anger in me
and i would be lauded for my bravery &
my masculinity.

but i’m a chick.
an angry chick.
and that is only cute for a minute or two
depending on how cute i am.
then it becomes something
you walk away from.
everyone walks away
from me.

is that why i am so pissed off?
except,
they say i “drove them away.”
they say i “put up walls.”
but what if i was pushing
so that you would pull me closer?
what if i put up walls
so you would knock them down?

then i would know
you really loved me.
i don’t believe anyone has ever loved me.
i really don’t.
i don’t believe my parents loved me.
the hordes of boyfriends…yes, hordes,
because when you’re looking for someone
to love you
you look everywhere
but non of them loved me
not really.
my dogs don’t even love me.
and if they tried,
i gave them reason not to love me.
i joked that i had kids
so that someone would love me best.
now i wait for the day
they realize what an asshole i am
and stop loving me.

i’m a fucked up mess. i read about empaths being “light bringers” but all i feel inside of me is darkness. deep & black & oozing. darkness. i want to forsake everything and embrace the darkness inside of me. i don’t know why i feel this way. maybe the older i get the crazier i get. i never felt this deep & dark before dusty got a hold of me. i had my anger. i had my feelings of being lost & unlovable, but i never had this darkness in me until he showed me exactly how little i meant to him…. and now i struggle to get him out of my life–out of my house, and i feel like i have no control of the situation. for a person like me, a lack of control is like being buried alive.

so maybe the anger is the only thing i have right now.

(this drawing is a watercolor i did for a class when i was journaling about the topic of my choice. i chose to journal about me as a mother.)

after…and before

did i plan on drawing a wildebeest today? okay, i can imagine wanting to draw a bison. but a wildebeest & a fencer?
that’s why i enjoy these drawings. these exercises. they show me things i would not have drawn. i see them. i draw them. and i think, “huh. i’ve never drawn that before.”

animals1

this is what i started with. do you see a wildebeest? a bison? i do. that is fun for me. the cheerleaders…i’m not so sure about. i think there is something deeper. flowers & mother earth. pollination.

it’s been a rough day.
all this crazy energy in the air.
even living out in the country, i can feel it. and it wore me out. i started my picture pretty late because i was so worn out. i felt like negativity was just everywhere.
and hope.
some hope.
i spent too much time on facebook–got in a fight with someone blaming this mess on third party voters…really?? really?? that is ludicrous.

so i took a big nap. listened to the coyotes. looked at the stars. and drew a bison. a wildebeest. some sheep, cheerleaders, flowers, and a fencer.

tomorrow, hopefully, will be a better day.
for art & humankind.

mister chicken

so as it turns out,
i’m not crazy–i’m an empath.
okay,
sometimes i’m still crazy.
but when i get super sad and then feel elated the next minute–
the thing is–
i often don’t feel my own emotions,
i feel other people’s emotions.
so weird.
i always knew i was really really empathetic
but only in the past couple of years have i learned about being an empath.

so i’m an empath.
i feel things
and know things
that other people cannot sense.
i know when someone is lying.
i can see an aura better than i can notice the color of your eyes.
and it has come to my attention that being an empath–& not knowing how to protect yourself–is a dangerous & even a bad thing.
i don’t know how to protect me.
i lay open for everyone to just dump their emotions in.
and then i turn into a raging pond of dumped emotions.

so today i was reading a book about service dogs for families that have special needs children and i felt profoundly sad. ¬†and instead of just feeling sad, i examined why i felt sad…only to realize that the sadness was not my own, but the sadness of these families.
it finally clicked.
i was not feeling my own emotions.
i was feeling someone else’s!!
and just like that, the sadness evaporated.
how often am i doing that?
being angry with someone else’s anger?
being happy with someone else’s happiness?
being frustrated with someone else’s frustration?

i wonder.
when i was a child, i loved¬†animals. all animals. i loved them. i collected them. i had over fifty pets as a kid–and even more imaginary ones.
but my dad was so angry.
and he put that anger on us kids
and on the animals.
and i felt myself absorb that anger.
i felt it grow inside me.
i recognized it when it came out–it was his anger, not mine.
but over the years i adopted it as my own.
i was the one being angry at the animals.
it stopped being his and became mine.
and i felt so horrible about it
about myself.
i cringe to think that that is who i am.
but what if it isn’t?
i wonder…
if i now realize it is not my anger after all…can i send it on its way?

 

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