the whiskey tastes like cough syrup something i have an aversion to with vivid memories of my nurse mother forcing medications & sure enough i go to sleep & dream of her bowling with my mother something we never did in the waking world…. this will not be the first thanksgiving without my mother but it will be the first since she has departed this reality…. instead of my annual angst this year i feel peace & balance & i am swearing off the cough syrup whiskey.
the peace & balance waxed & waned. this time of year i am lucky to feel any peace & balance, so i am not going to look that gift horse in the mouth. i fixed a turkey for the first time ever. i played “mom” to my four children & two extra children & decided that the cough syrup whiskey wasn’t awful when mixed with eggnog.
this was the last page of this art journal that began on july 10th of this year. i inked on both sides of all the pages.
just for fun i’m only drinking when i really really really feel like it (not just as a reflex happy hour for one) & sometimes not even then opting to notice the *need* & just let it go… so now i notice when my mind turns to craving the numbness alcohol brings i am noticing now when & why i wish to be numb.
mostly it is times when being a mom feels overwhelming & impossible…or when my ex is picking picking picking at the energy field around me, whittling it away…
but today, my neighbor (mentioned yesterday) came to my house to complain about my twelve year old. yes. he is annoying. sneaky. manipulative. & plays really really rough sometimes (he has sensory processing disorder & doesn’t always respect boundaries) …but he is also a scapegoat for women/mothers like my neighbor. hyper judgey gossipy drama queens. i’ve noticed a pattern. & it’s not like her kids are any better. also, she is best buds with the kid who is my kid’s arch nemesis. another sneaky & manipulative boy about my son’s age. so it’s kinda annoying that she thinks this kid is golden while mine is garbage? & the other day i told this rotten neighbor kid to stop making drama & to play nicely with all the kids instead of causing problems. he told angry neighbor lady (not his mom–i don’t even know who his mom is) that i yelled at him. i did not yell at him. so bitchy neighbor lady is telling me i cannot talk to kids? i have to talk to parents??? i told her bullshit–if a kid is causing problems with my kids–fuck yeah i’m going to say something. otherwise who the fuck is checking these kids’ behavior? if my kid is being an ass, i expect someone to tell him (nicely & as an adult) that he is being an ass. it takes a fucking village, right?
long story short–i really could have used a drink after throwing said neighbor lady out of my house–but i did not partake. just noted the urge. & let it go….
i’ve noticed that i have inked faces familiar to the one on my journal page above several times. maybe i should name her?
it’s about welcoming the chaos not trying to control the chaos letting all all the energies the good & the bad move through breathe through with small treasures filtered out
working on balance in my household. my mothering requires that i not absorb all the chaos in the house or else i become overwhelmed & either shut down or freak out. however, trying to stop the chaos all together is fucking impossible (if you doubt this, i will be happy to send my kids over to your house.) so i need to find a way to filter through the chaos. accepting it & surviving it.
how am i still failing at something i have been doing every day for fifteen years? sometimes it is the only thing i do yet still i suck at being a mom the one thing i thought once upon a time i might be good at.
this is an ongoing thing for me. one day maybe i won’t feel this way? or the world will end….
there is a page now on the commons website about my exhibit! also, still available, that book i wrote….
i should try something different i think this obviously isn’t working i gesture to the life around me the chaos i am waist deep in the disorder the depression the overwhelming sense of helplessness… i should try something different i whisper to myself but for the life of me i cannot think of anything else i haven’t already tried.
dipping my toes in darkness…again. yesterday i was dancing…today not so much. but, you know, the dance of life, the dance we do as we try to get better–two steps forward one step back. which means, i am always dancing. but the music changes….
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
my life has been a complete waste of time & it’s not that i want to die… i just want to punish everyone who has ever claimed to love me.
more dark thoughts from poppy’s birthday. i would write more…but i’m feeling kinda crappy again. today is my dead mom’s birthday (we had issues)…& having physical copies of my book on hand is making me spin out a bit & feel like a raging fraud/waste of space. so, yeah, wasted….
i feel like i have kept myself alive for far longer than has served any purpose done things that never needed were never meant to be done & now cannot be undone as i stubbornly plow forward with this life like a person in a strong wind holding tight with all their might so as not to be blown away.
ah more motherhood regrets as i feel like a complete shit of a mom. yay. i am feeling better now. it all seemed to accumulate on poppy’s birthday…all my festering feelings of not being able to hack it. & then getting physically sick despite my working so hard on my immune system–making it clear to me that i really really need to address my stress overload. i wonder sometimes, if it weren’t for the whole/organic foods, art journaling, & yoga…would i just be dead from the stress.
was there ever joy in my life have i always been this miserable creature i see in the mirror was my heart ever a light place or was this darkness just born to me?
so on top of a head cold, two of my sons had birthdays this past week. my seven year old was a difficult one. the pregnancy was physically easy, but emotionally a trainwreck. dusty found a shiny new girlfriend while i was pregnant for poppy. that went on throughout the pregnancy, birth, & first two years of poppy’s life. so, unfortunately, a day where i should feel happiness turns me into a puddle of misery as i remember how awful i felt for those years.
how many generations of fucked uped ness is there in my bloodline? if i were livestock i would have met with the butcher’s block to prevent further tainting the herd. is it a crime against nature that i continue this –yes, handsome, but what of it’s psychotic & chaotic nature– line of creation?
so…troubles with momming of late. convinced i am the lead monster of a pack of monsters…. sigh. have i mentioned how much being a single mom just sucks ass?
on another note, i really liked what i did here changing it up by using pink skin tones rather than white space. it’s an experiment….
