and then there were pandas

i was asked by one of my children
to paint a panda
& was surprised
by how easy it is to paint a panda
then today
feeling frustrated
with my art & life
in general
i got the idea to start a series called
“inappropriate comics with pandas”
so there is that
to look forward to.

sometimes i really worry about me. i’m either inspired or possessed. it’s really hard to tell.

if wishes were frogs

i regret
that i only have
one beer in my
fridge…
ideally
i should have
one drink per child
available to me
at
all
times.

self-medicating…. proof that i am not an alcoholic, when i wrote this, there were actually two more beers in my fridge…i just wasn’t looking hard enough.
you may have guessed i’m still struggling with stress levels & being a mom…& just for shits & giggles, dusty is freaking out on me again now too. but i have a new coping mechanism for that….
sock puppet renditions of “texts from exes”!! coming soon to a youtube channel near you.

ps. for anyone wanting a copy of my book. i just need your address & $10 sent to my paypal or mailed to me (ask me for my address).
you can email me at: quixoticmama@gmail.com

highs & lows

i am happy…
or is it just mania?
a high following a low
what is normal
i wonder
i feel
happy
like everything
is falling
into
place
& the life
i imagined
is finally finding its way
into
reality
will i crash again
tomorrow?
what is normal
i wonder
knowing i love
the ups
& downs
& would never trade
my chaotic
everyday
for a medicated one
of flatlines
& no stories
to tell
no poems
to write
i will always choose
paint splattered walls
over
white ones.

a thought i had while talking to a friend diagnosed with bipolar disorder. what is crazy? really… i mean, is it just a matter of riding out the ups & downs? i’ve always valued the fuckedupedness of my life for it’s giving me fresh perspectives & sparks in my imagination.
maybe i’m crazy…but i wouldn’t trade it for the world.

a muse ing

mental health
is a loyal muse
she never wanders
far
away
& seemingly
is quite easily
summoned
sometimes just
by a song on the radio
or a careless word
mental health
is an accommodating muse
willing to wait
with open arms
for you
to
crawl
back to her.

i have a friend who got a mental health diagnosis &, fortunately, has herself submerged in a writer’s workshop…so she immediately wrote it into a story.
i love that.
i love people using what could knock them over to, instead, create.
which is one reason i am starting a group of creators (writers & artists) to come together as a community to support & encourage & listen.
i am pretty excited…or, rather, terrified about it.
but i’m doing it.

obsolete

i
am
pointless
a redundancy
a misplaced narrative
that does not need
to be found
not really
just
let me gather dust
in a corner
forgotten
impotent
obsolete.

i have been super depressed the past few days. the world, of course, is a mess. i, of course, am a mess. my parenting skills are questionable. my relationship attempt with the ex crashed & left me heartbroken…again.
but i was so tired of myself
that i couldn’t even journal
so i just kept spiraling downward.
but!
i picked up my pen yesterday & managed to write these few words.
& that totally helped to exorcise demons & sweep away dark thoughts.

in related news, i am trying to start a creative group of people who can come together for support & encouragement. i got one text this morning after posting a classified on our little town’s local listings. yay! & i got support coming in from the community center i keep my freestore at (yes, my freestore is still a thing.)

moving forward, y’all. moving forward.
sometimes pretty fucking slowly, but moving forward nonetheless.

still interesting?

it might never happen that i’m stable enough to become boring…but i do wonder…& hope that my brain has more than one setting for entertainment.

the suburbs

sometimes
i just don’t
have words
my brain
idling
like a car
in the
mcdonald’s
drive thru
sometimes
all
is quiet…
content?
like someone
snuck in
that
long-awaited
lobotomy
sometimes
i just feel
uncomfortably
numb
like
somehow
i took a
wrong turn
& wandered
away
from my
suburban life.

see. this is what i was talking about yesterday. my brain is just away on vacation & since i never ever take vacation…it just feels wrong. i am relaxed & calm…& it is freaking me out.
like i am suspicious of feeling happy? yeah. just like that.

hideaway

i had a pretty rough day the other day…there is going to be a bunch of these. any day i am struggling, i just put it all down on paper. pages & pages of paper…

my life, my universe, my everything

this is an ink stain creation from…when? is there a date on it? there should be a date on it, but i think i cut it off in the scanning of it and the original was used as a piece of stationary to write a letter to seymour.
of course, seymour never responds to my love notes…
maybe if i put a “do you like me back” with a box to check yes and a box to check no.
seymour does not respond to my–i don’t even know what it qualifies as–dedication? obsession? true love? stalking?
who the fuck knows? not this socially backwards chickadee.
i’m sure one of the many mental health professionals that likes to follow my blog could weigh in…but would i listen…probably not.

in other mental health news…
i thought i had popped back out of my depression. i mean, while the minions were with dusty, i was functional and not too mopey. i got things done. i did not spend all day in bed…or drinking…or drinking in bed….
but then i had to see dusty in order to fetch the minions, and that seems to have triggered a fresh depression.
yay.
i just feel so much anger towards him. so much betrayal. so much frustration & helplessness. and i can’t talk to him about it, because he finds a way to turn everything i say to him into a weapon against me.
that is some fucking talent.
so he has been paying for my internet, and we have been using his netflix account. many months, this is the only child support i see from him.
but now his contract with the internet is up, & he is cancelling that as well as his netflex (or so i hear from the minions.)
for some reason, this leaves me feeling so fucking pissed off. so fucking pissed off.
i am already super isolated in the country with four kids. i mean, i assumed his canceling the internet was a financial decision, but a friend suggested it might be for the purposes of further isolating me…and i could not find an argument to the contrary.
abusive men do like to isolate.
however, dusty has not has a job since he lost his job last january by coming down here (and staying past his welcome) when i asked him down to help with my parents. he never even told me there were issues with his job. i only found out much later that he was fired for blowing his job off to come down here.
so, yeah, it’s my fault he was fired.
but then he found another job, recently, but quit it when he thought i might let him move in here. even though i told him it was a maybe and we could talk about it. then of course i was given that big neon sign from the universe that he is still a prick & will always be a prick & what the fuck am i thinking?
but, in the couple of days where i considered it–before sobering up–he went ahead & quit his job.
did he talk to me about it first seeing as his moving to illinois was dependent on my letting him move here?
or seeing as me & the minions are directly affected by his income or lack thereof?
no…mr. “let’s talk” did not talk to me before quitting his job.
and now he likes to mention it as if it is my fault.
it’s my fault he quit his job…of course it is.

okay. rant done.

so now i am depressed again. a garden sits waiting for rain and for me to get off my sad ass to turn the soil & plant more veg. one of my bee hives died and i need to address that. the new chicken coop waits for me to build it. and, of course, sheep…goats…ducks….geese…and minions.

in conclusion, if there is a wealthy benefactor and/or someone handy on a homestead out there waiting to pop into my life, now might be the time.

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