mean mom

“you are a mean mom,”
the four year old says to me.
“i wisht i killt you.”
he has just woken up
maybe he had a bad dream?
or
maybe he remembers
maybe he remembers the nine months
inside me
my wishing him away
every minute
of every day
of that pregnancy
or maybe he remembers
those 26 hours of labor
those two hours of pushing
as i fiercely
tried
to
eject
him
& he turned sideways
& backwards
he turned me inside out
refusing to leave
peacefully
maybe fearing what i would do
once i finally
got my hands
on him….
i flinch
with guilt
as i remember
as i can never
forget…
i love my son
…but there was a time
when i did not.

i don’t think i will ever fully recover from my last pregnancy. i just wish i knew for sure that my son will. i don’t want to take him down with me.

 

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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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