the legend of mary jo

that i have not
punched anyone in the face
should prove what a hero
i am
that i haven’t
torn the throat of the world
out
with my teeth
should show
what a humanitarian i am.

i was playing off of the legend of billy jack…but seeing as my given name is actually mary jo….

this is the other end of the suicide scope it seems. homicide. for everyone giving me unsolicited advice as i try to find my way through…i have not brought injury on to any of them.
so throw me a fucking parade.

not so much

most days
these days
i want to kill myself
except
i don’t want to die
so i guess
there’s that.

more of that clawing my way out of my own life feeling. i am overwhelmed & frustrated & wanting to feel better but every time i see a glimpse of light, it gets stomped the fuck out. so then i just start fantasizing about horrible things to do to myself…but i don’t really want to do them…so why does the fantasy help me feel better?

words of wisdom

bathe in the enlightenment
that is me
1.) don’t give a fuck
2.) burn it all down
3.) take the money & run

yes. this was my trying to help my sister be as wise as i am. okay, look at it again. look at it with the eyes of someone who has been destroyed by emotional abuse. hey. it gets me through, this attitude of mine, it keeps me alive…and right now i’m just trying to help her stay alive.

the deep end

told i could not swim & then
thrown into the deep end
my family of origin
all of us fucked up
in our won special way
all of us
thrown in the deep end
trying not to drown
& pushing each other under
i was finally getting my stroke down
making my own waves
when they grabbed me
by the knees
pushed me down
by the shoulders
pulled under
again

i have been struggling more than usual lately, trying to get my wonky head back on straight….
then my sister, with a history of mental illness, became despondent & suicidal and my being the only one living near her, put me in the position of rescuer & caretaker.
this is not not not a position i enjoy &, in fact, i begin to fall apart even more when put in this position.
so here i am
trying as hard as i can
to keep my head above water.

(at least i am able to be consistent in my metaphor…)

suicide is painless

i’m not going to write a lifetime movie
for you if you survive your suicide
suicide
something i have thought about
far too much
is an escape from your pain…maybe
but it is also a big
“fuck you” to everyone in your life
so i’m not going to take you
in my arms & tell you everything is okay
you have so much to live for…
i’m going to get you by the scruff
of the neck
give you a good shake
& tell you
“no! bad! knock it the fuck off!”
if i have to be in this world
endure all the pain of it
then guess what
you do too
no cutting.

pun intended? my sister attempted suicide recently, and my reaction was to get really pissed off about it. so i wrote this instead of being mean to her. i know i have thought of doing myself in often, but i am aware that it is a shitty thing to do.
i guess there are cases where the pain you are in outweighs the pain you will inflict on others…but those cases are few & far between as much as i can tell.

my would-be friend

missing my would-be friend…
an art journal page because i’m saddened by the death of a person i really would have liked to have taken the time to know better.
sadly, he committed suicide & all i am left with is regret…i wish i would have reached out to him & shared my own darkness with him so maybe he would not have felt so alone & so lost.

don’t walk away

though i feel comfort
at the thought
of a no-more
a
never-more
i am invested
in this story
& long to know
how it will
unfold
will i laugh?
will i cry?
i will not stop
turning the pages
of my life
even if at times
i feel
like
setting the book
down
& walking
the fuck
away,
i come back
i come back
i pick up
where i left off
my story
this
is not
the end.

originally posted on august 31, 2018

another one towards the one day realization of the invisible exhibitionist.

i tore up so many versions of this. i am still not completely happy with the final…but there is a lot i like about it too.
i am not sure why i went with lewis carroll’s drawing of alice for this one. i do know that i have always loved this illustration. when i re-did it, i worked from my version of the illustration, without looking at his, which is my habit. to work from my own art that i first borrowed from someone else….
if that makes sense.

anyhoo!
i noticed that this as well as my last post are about survival & not doing myself in as the little voices sometimes suggest…so that’s nice.

courting death

self soothing
is thinking about 
the blade against my skin
self soothing
is a match 
to burn it all to the ground
self soothing 
are the words
rolling around 
in my rotten brain
no one has ever loved you
anyway
self soothing
is a free fall 
away from my nightmares
and into a comforting
emptiness
love
love is the easy answer
if by easy 
you mean
impossible
death
makes more sense
no longer fantasizing about love
saving me
only 
hoping
for
death.

death. the ultimate distraction. no. i don’t really want to die. most the time i plan on living forever. but some days there is something deep & dark inside me. an overwhelming lack of hope. 
it has a lot to do with escape. that’s what the thoughts of death are. i mean, when i was in the midst of it, i thought, what if i didn’t die–but just disappeared?
it was all the same to me. well. actually disappearing was more desirable than death.
i am sure other mothers feel this way. i am sure none of us like to talk about it. i talk about it because i have to.
if i keep things inside, it only gets worse. 
squeeze it until it bleeds…& then it can get better.

i am not sure how i feel about this illustration/self-portrait. i feel like i am…too sexy? is death sexy? i wasn’t going for sexy. i’m not sure it is even sexy. trust me, i do not feel sexy. 
i do like the illustration…it feels comic-booky to me. i just feel like a fraud for having drawn/painted it.
don’t ask me why. 
i don’t fucking know.

INKtober twenty-sixth

my lovely
lovely
demons
they keep me
warm
they keep me
company
never alone
when you’re
haunted
my demons
dry my tears
they tell me
everything
will be
okay
everything
will be
fine…
once i give up
admit defeat
disappear…
i know
i should
send my demons
away
let go of my
demons…
but if i do
what friends
will i have
left?

this post was inspired by yesterday’s post. yes, i am my own muse.
also, i have never seen the movie ghost…but this well-known scene popped to mind when i tried to picture my ever loving demons.

don’t know what this says about it all, but i accidentally gave my demon one of my tattoos–the one that is an engagement tattoo to an obsession i have done my best to let go of….
hmmm.
there are no accidents…right?
also, i totally think my demon is sexy.
i need to get out more….

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