birthday drawing

once upon a time
my birthday was one of my three
favorite holidays
once upon a time
i would count down
from like six months away
telling an unwilling audience
every
day
how many days it was until my birthday
i never had a party
(tried once & nobody came)
i just would spend the day basking
In the glory of a day
that was mine…
then i married a man
who refused to celebrate me
then i had kid after kid after kid
and realized
no matter what day it was
i still was expected to be a mom
then my brother died
and i no longer got my birthday call
fromĀ  him
asking, “so what else is new,”
and actually listening to what i said….
once upon a time
my birthday was a glorious day
for me…
i want to find that girl again
she was damaged…but not as scarred as who i am
today
i want to find that birthday girl
and i want to celebrate her
anyway

i feel better today. back on my journey to healing. i feel better–stronger–more able to tackle life.
i wish my birthday didn’t knock me down like it does. i hope i can somehow recover my old sweet love for my birthday.
it is a journey…healing…and sometimes i wander off the path and into a patch of poison ivy….

my minions were sweet to me. iggy wrapped up a dozen rocks & shells to give me. fidgit drew me this awesome picture. misha made an elaborate show of hiding “barbie” dolls & stuffed animals for me to uncover for my birthday. my minions are awesome creatures…even poppy who is three but one day won’t be anymore (please god!)

so i survived another birthday and am back on my journey to being a better me.

ranting wailing mourning

why am i so pissed off again?
already?
okay, so i’m not going to be magically
okay
so i’m not going to be magically
together
i’m going to be bitter & angry
shouting
screaming
crying
wishing things had been different
careful i am not wishing my children away
as i wish i had never met their father.

and
it’s fucking thanksgiving
i don’t know about you
but this was the most dysfunctional
of fucked up dysfunctional holidays
for me
i spent years avoiding
this
fucking
“holiday.”
for years, i couldn’t even eat turkey
without feeling angry
fucking thanksgiving
the holiday of family fights
based on a false
gathering
as white invaders who
murdered & stole from indigenous peoples
after being welcomed into their land
it’s a fucking
cursed
holiday.

fuck thanksgiving.
fuck my ex-husband.
fuck my parents.
fuck black friday
and the mentality of buying buying buying
hoarding goods
made by abused workers
in other countries
as a cloud of pollution forms
over their heads
fuck this fucking country and its killing ways
its stealing ways
its hurtful
hateful
ways.
this whole land
is cursed.

 

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