evasive creature

i am beginning
to suspect
that the narrator would describe me
as cold
distant
an evasive creature
funny though
i never saw me like that
&
i know me
i know i have a warm heart…
but fickle.
both courageous
& timid
who the fuck am i?
why are relationships
so fucking
hard
for me….
no i am not cold
& distant
maybe i’m just using
that mask
when it suits
me.

it’s like i do know who i am–but who am i? i was pondering this while getting energy/body work. i am definitely going through something. the body worker told me that as far as my physical body–i was in good shape. things were moving & improving. but in my brain, i am having lots of meltdowns & feeling terrified. panic attacks over mail being delivered (although my village clerk does keep sending me “helpful” information on lawn ordinances–so that might be part of that.)

sigh.
drawing all those flowers did help soothe me….

dreaming green meadows

my anxiety is an electric storm
sky full of clouds
bursting
static with lightening
my anxiety is a thick heaviness
holding me together
pulling me under
pulling me apart
as i try to just
breathe
just breathe
breathe through the panic
the terror
my heart pounding
out of my chest
the phone rings
the door knocks
& my insides shriek
while i pretend
i
can
do this
face another day
a deer in the headlights
frantically
picturing green meadows.

i had to text my ex-landlord to remind her to give back my security deposit & almost died. (maybe not…but it felt that way.)
why do i always assume i am doing something wrong? that i am a bad person? that i don’t deserve what is mine?
why do i freak out with fear when i am put in the position of asking for something i am due?
like i am committing some unforgivable crime in the asking?
as i secretly wait to be crucified….
like the other day when i was getting my dog license in my new village…the city worker asked about my lawn. my reel mowered/scythed lawn. suggesting it was longer than allowed by the city. and now i peek out my window, waiting for the mobs with torches to tell me to stop fucking around & mow my lawn properly…even though i am pretty sure it is within regulations…mostly anyway….
fuck anxiety.
just fucking fuck it.

(i have no idea where this illustration came from. i just kind of emptied my head & it sprang up in there. i like it. i miss doing comics & think about comics often…just haven’t drawn/written any lately…though i am back to using my art pens more than my bamboo pen….)

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