sustained on rejection

am i sustained by
rejection
like a panda
surrounded
by bamboo…did rejection
become my staple
& now
now that the bamboo
is scarce
do i actively seek
rejection
lumbering
past greener pastures
to find my
desolate
patch
of bitter rejection
where i can sit
uncomfortably
& gorge myself
on defeat?

one of the problems with not always being able to illustrate my thoughts as i write them (this one was written 10 days ago & i am just getting to it) is that i do not always remember what sparked my free verse ramblings.

my childhood was a big pot of rejection. out of six kids, i was nobody’s favorite. my younger sister (closest in age to me) was mortified by me & even suggested i do myself in. my peers at school actively avoided me. i was charlie brown on valentine’s day. i eventually had to go to a neighboring town to find a boy strange enough to kiss me.

so…did rejection become a familiar “friend” that i sought out as my adult life began? seeking out the boys who didn’t want me. focusing on them. throwing myself, relentlessly, at them. sending out stories to publishers without first attaining the necessary writing skills. staying on the fringes. watching, but never joining.

do i still seek out rejection? will i ever stop expecting rejection? will i ever believe i am good enough that i will not be rejected? has it become a self-fulfilling prophesy that keeps me exactly where i am?

just some musings as i wait to be rejected by a publisher & an art award…not even entertaining the idea of dating because–look at me–who the fuck would want this?

the other day i read my tarot cards. they told me that i need to learn to like myself. they told me to stop obstructing myself. to stop living in fear of moving forward.
but…i am not sure i know how to do that.
they never tell me how to do it.

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fight or flight

cancer
my sun sign
is a cautious one
a suspicious one
keeping her shell close at hand
just in case.
strangely though
i will run head long
into a disastrous relationship…
while carefully skirting
my chances for
a healthy one
what the what
& why?
does that even make sense?
i run from the chance to be
happy.
why do i do that?
hmmmm
nevermind why
i guess
just know that today
i am choosing to stand
& fight.

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.

page9

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?

good question.

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.

page10

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.
tonight.

so, assuming he is not a serial killer, i am no longer running away.

bit murky

i grew up with a pond (i actually live there again–next to said pond–after being gone almost 30 years) so i can attest that this inking is actually pretty accurate.

is there a word for someone with a fear of the murky depths? i mean, i swim in lakes & in the ocean…but i cannot lose that nagging feeling about the things i cannot see.

bitmurky1

maybe that’s with everything though. fear of what i cannot see. monsters under the water. faces in the window when my back is turned. creepy crawlers just right out of sight. blessed & cursed with an active imagination.

we could delve deeper.
fear of the unknown.
fear of what i cannot control.

bitmurky2

fear. it’s not a word i really ever associate with myself. i mean, i will do most anything on a dare. i will purposely forge into terrain that makes me uncomfortable. i don’t believe in letting fear stop me.

but i do let it stop me. i have a fear of success. in both art & relationships. i have a fear of swimming into the murky bits of myself and exploring. i have a fear of living up to my full potential.

isn’t that weird? where does that come from?

my first beluga whale

so there was this open space in the upper right hand corner that kept me perplexed through quite a few episodes of offspring today.

(now i feel defensive about the fact that i am sitting in a chair zoning out to dramadies when maybe i should be doing something productive…or at least cleaning the fucking living room or scrubbing out the toilet that has some mystery staining going on…earning money towards my building debt? fuck. this all started when i became a stay at home mom…the feeling defensive if i’m not doing ten things at once. thinking someone is going to say something snide…well, okay, because the ex always did.
so now i am sitting on my ass crying over a tv show because they pointlessly killed off my favorite character.
fuck.)

beluga1

so anyway. this blank spot. i found so many things on the left side of the paper and it was getting so lopsided. but all i  could see were more dragons and i just could not do another dragon inking. so i looked & looked & looked and then realized there could be something getting ready to dive into that pond there.

and that’s when i found my happy beluga whale.

tada.

i like this picture. it seems…happy-ish.

my dogs should come home tomorrow. from the vet. they are almost fully de-toxed. i don’t know how much it will cost, but i did manage to sell eleven prints in my first attempt to make money with my art. so that’s exciting.

and terrifying.

and i am terrified.

i might have a deep fear of happiness & success & being loved & being able to love…. i don’t feel worthy, i guess. like i’m too badly damaged to do the stuff that normal people do.

fuck.

but i did this inking today. and started getting an order ready for printing….
wait.
maybe i should dress up & pretend i am someone else when i try to sell my art. that always worked when i used to wait tables…hmm. maybe i am on to something.

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