bubbling cauldron

so much anger
am i angry
because
my brother
was murdered
& i am
too polite
to avenge him?
am i angry
that my ex-husband
destroyed me
leaving me
a broken person
rebuilding
&
no matter how many
times
i ink the story
he refuses to read it?
am i angry
that my sons
will never know
how much
i sacrificed
to be their
mother?
am i angry
at the world
for being
deliberately
blind
&
ignorant?

from my dead brother’s birthday through his death anniversary through holidays heavy with bad memories & deeply ingrained anxiety….
this time of year i can become just a bubbling cauldron of angst. add in a good dose of idocracy fueled by a corrupt government & medical system….
i have only had one public outburst…so yay for that.

queen of avoidance

as i work to let go
to soften
to open
to escape my cocoon
i find myself
remembering
how
so many times i would choose
a relationship
any relationship
with any partner
who required all of my focus
so i wouldn’t have to focus
on me
&
i wonder now
if i also use my motherhood
as a crutch
&
a get out of jail free card
pay no attention
to the man
behind the
curtain
i have
bigger
fish
to fry….

again getting loosey goosey with my metaphors…. i hope i was able to express what i was trying to express here.
basically, to avoid working on me, i find broken people to focus on…or completely handicap myself with motherhood so i can pretend i have no energy left to look at me….

mama belly

it’s the mama center
of my body
is that
my problem?
am i conflicted
so very
conflicted
by motherhood?
that all those
ugly feelings
have found a place
in my
mama belly
so deep
in there
that even the most
adamant
yoga workout
cannot
root it out?

more on my body image issues. i cannot not wonder if my aversion to my stomach fat has something to do with my struggles to be a mom.
plus, it’s a genetic trait from my own mother.
so there is that.
bleah.
but, i am working on working it all out. trying to learn to love my body & believe that someone else could love it as well.

body image

i hate my body
i know
i’m not supposed
to hate my body
i’m supposed to
embrace
me
celebrate
me
lumps & bumps & all
but instead
i want to take a knife
& slice
off
parts of me
genetics & motherhood & age
have conspired
against me
&
left me
this blobby
mess.

this one is a pesky demon. when i was younger and my jeans stopped fitting, i just ate less & exercised more. voila!
now, after four pregnancies
& right into perimenopause….
crap.
i feel betrayed by my body.
add on stress and too many years with an emotionally abusive motherfucker and sometimes i look in the mirror and am so fucking disturbed by what i see….

demons to wrestle, y’all.

unlovable

i don’t want to be
alone
but i cannot imagine
anyone
loving me….

my broken bits shine in this one. it’s a deep fear of mine…or deep belief. i am working on rooting it out. as you will see in coming pages about my body image, mother image, and aging which affect and are affected by my feeling unlovable. hopefully i can exorcise this demon one day soon…or, entanglement of demons (the name of my next band.)

holiday drinking

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.

sober thoughts

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?

chaos theory

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.

this sucks

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….

something different

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….

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