do not disturb

of course i’m falling down
try to walk around
with this broken heart
of course i need time
to rest; to heal
carrying the weight
of my bruised & battered
soul
i need my cocoon right now
but y’all know what happens
when this worn down
tired out
broken & struggling
creepy crawler gets a chance
to rest
to recover?

i guess if i’m going to let dusty break my heart for nine or twelve years, i can go ahead and take a week–or however long i need, goddammit–to recover.
back in the last century, after seymour & i broke up, i was seeing a therapist who started pushing pills on me because i was depressed. i fired her saying, “of course i’m fucking depressed, i just broke up with my fiance.”
seriously!
it’s like in this culture you aren’t allowed to suffer through anything. it’s weird to just suffer through. instead, here, take a pill.
suffering is part of healing. i don’t give a fuck what anyone says. i have to be sad right now. my second marriage (though it legally ended in 2010 & physically ended last year) just ended for me. i still had a little bit of hope for a happy ending hiding somewhere in my mind.
that hope just died.
of course i’m fucking depressed. of course i just want to sleep & do nothing else. and you know what i realized this morning? as much as possible, i should sleep & do nothing else. i should take care of myself. i should give myself time to heal.

so listen up world, i’m going to give myself time to heal. i’m not going to rush it or feel like i have to push through the pain or sedate** the pain.
i’m going to feel it.
feel the pain so i can feel how fucking good it feels when that pain goes away.

**(please note that i am not a medical professional, & i do not suffer from clinical depression or reference clinical depression when i do reference depression. also, i am being more metaphorical than literal…though i did have two unmedicated births, i cannot make it through a migraine without taking a tylenol.)

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listen up sheeples

born of evie the sheep, sired by tyler durden…it’s lambchop II.

i was outside yesterday, checking on my wayward minions, when i heard a weird bleating coming from the pasture. i found evie the sheep on the far side of the pasture, in labor. she would lay, heaving & pushing, then she would get up–re-position–and lay back down to bleat & push. i noticed when she stood up that there was a pair of legs hanging out of her sheep vagina. since i am new to the who sheep raising business, i don’t know if this is normal or not.

but i didn’t panic. i trusted that she knew what she was doing…or nature would take it’s course. i was told that hair sheep are pretty good at taking care of the lambing themselves. so i waited & watched. then i let evie know–she is a pretty timid sheep & doesn’t let me near her–that i was there to help. and asked her if she needed help.

she didn’t seem certain one way or the other. so i waited a little longer.

finally i got the feeling that she was pushing, but not much was happening. so i got up and went to her and held her up and encouraged her. i could see the back legs of her lamb hanging out… and the little tail wagging! so i gave that little lamb butt a tug and the lamb came right out.

i caught a baby lamb while my minions watched from the sidelines.

that’s pretty cool, right? see what i’m teaching them?

which brings me to why i got on here to make a post in the first place.
the world is fucked, y’all.
it’s fucked.
i am a mess because i am an antenna for all the bullshit going on all day long all over this fucked up planet.
sure, there is good stuff…& people trying to make a difference…but evil is more powerful than good. good is more persistent, but evil is more powerful.(my latest epiphany while watching star wars: episode III last night with the minions)
most people–even if they are aware of the problems happening–do not have the discipline or whatever to actually change their lives. they just kind of shrug and say, “oh well.” and those are the ones that actually have pulled their heads out of the sand to have a look around. most people prefer to hum loudly & close their eyes.

very few people are actually willing to change their lives.

i know i should be trying even harder than i am. i look at the packaging on the groceries i buy and i want to cry. how do i buy groceries with less packaging when no one will produce groceries with less packaging? often times the organic red peppers or cucumbers and individually wrapped for fuck’s sake! why does a vegetable need to be wrapped in plastic? fuck me running. i try to buy good products…but then there is packaging. so much fucking packaging. i will never buy sandwich cookies again. seriously? so much fucking packaging.

so i know i am just one lunatic screaming into my ham radio…preaching to the choir probably, because why would someone listen to this unless they already agreed with me?

so the world is fucked and i need to figure out a way to not let this turn me into an screaming lunatic…but still keep working to save it. to hear & feel the world around me…without letting it kill me. to keep trying…even if it feels like i’m using a spoon to dig out the grand canyon.

fuck. i need to meditate & do some fucking yoga..maybe go watch my sheep for a bit.

oh! and i need to finish these two inks i started a few days ago but have been too fucked up by this fucked up world to work on since:

garden city

i never wanted to do this
alone
but i am
alone
profoundly everlastingly
alone
there is no end in sight
i try to ask for help
no one listens
& i remain
alone
always
alone.

i never planned to have four kids by myself out in the country. i crave community & i crave contact. i crave a connection.
i am an introvert, and i enjoy my alone time. but this is different. this is ridiculous.
i am alone with four children.
and i’m not sure i should be a mom.
i’m so tired of being screamed at.
i’m so tired of being peed on.
i’m so tired of losing my mind.
who am i?
am i a monster?
why can’t i do this?

gardencity2

no one should be expected to do this. be alone. alone with children.
no one should be expected to do this.
but even when i lived in a housing co-op, with 30 other adults…i was alone. i would be struggling, right in front of them, my audience. i would be struggling–& they would turn away. often literally.

it’s not just me is it?
it’s us. as a culture. so cut off from one another.
i thought it was just because i never ask for help,
but they turn away even if i do.
and leave me.
alone.

gardencity1