I have to wonder what on earth I’m doing? I mean really, am I just totally off my rocker or am I in a space now where I can venture out and not feel like I’m going to crash and burn? For me to even consider walking down this road says to me I’ve made a tad bit of progress in my healing.
I’ve said repeatedly that I can’t date a black girl because it’s too triggering. I’ve said that I like black women a lot (ooooo chocolate) but when I see them I think of my mother and it frightens me. At this point when I look at her I don’t think of my mother. When I see a mutual friend of ours I see my mother but not when I look at her. I guess my concern is that if this grows into anything and there’s sexual contact I’ll end up freaking out.
Continue reading ‘Trust The Moment’
I’ve mentioned that I’m in a creative rut right now and that my artistic well is pretty much dried up. I also said that my self esteem is a huge block for me right now. I decided to write a few thoughts about painting, sewing and other forms of creativity.
When I paint or draw I am at my freest. I have few inhibitions and will take color and composition risks. I take risks in art but avoid them in real life. Man I’m not a risk taker, sheshh but in art work I’ll cross lines I was taught to observe and do it with no real concern as to if it turns out good or not. I mostly enjoy the journey but in real life I avoid risks like the plague.
Right now I feel bound and blinded by self doubt. I’ve painted for too long to say “I can’t.” Self criticism prevents me from seeing that I can. When my sight is limited progress suffers. Nothing gets out or in, including creativity.
Continue reading ‘Blinded’
She said she’d been thinking about me and wondered how I was doing. When I first saw her and she asked for my phone number I for a second didn’t think I could say no to her. For a second I fell into my old pattern. Fortunately I caught myself.
I know for a fact that the reemergence of Blossom means taking several steps backwards. It means beating my head against a brick wall. I just can’t do that. It’s been a very long and troubled year and a half since we broke up. Boy have things changed since then.
Continue reading ‘The Reemergence of Blossom’
***comments are off***
It doesn’t make sense to me. I’m annoyed, angered, exhausted by the whole thing. I also know there’s no way on earth I’m going to be okay with starting over not when I fear being tossed aside again when the wind blows slightly off course. That pisses me off, it does, to feel thrown away over the …..(no more editing my thoughts) I feel thrown away over the most stupid, minor bull shit of which only half was my fault. I just want to scream, we aren’t in a fucking fairy tale, guess who screws up? Yup everybody and I figure unless there is some huge crime committed that can’t be resolved then one shouldn’t have running away at the top of their list of ways to resolve issues. It pisses me off that….it’s wrong is all. It’s totally wrong. Because there’s an issue or two it doesn’t mean someone has to leave but I’ll be damned if that isn’t exactly what happened. So yeah, I’m frustrated, I’m angry and maybe even a little bit bitter.
Continue reading ‘Make It Go Away’
This dream is absolutely significant because in it I established myself not only as a woman but as a lesbian.
My mother HATES women more than she hates men. I was told growing up just how horrible women are. She told me women are backbiters and angry bitches who will do their best to tear you down. She said we are untrustworthy and are used by men who only want to have sex with us. Once men “get a hold” of you and “get inside you” you belong to them. You can never “get them out” of you. She said sex with men made you a defiled whore. Most of what I heard about women was worse than what I heard about men. Never in our conversations did she tell me that I could be different from the women she described. Nope, I was pretty much given in detail the kind of person I was going to be simply because I was born female. Trust me when I tell you it wears on the psyche and causes even more turmoil for a person trying to find herself. Everyone goes through the stage of life where they try to figure out who they are as a person then who they are as a man or woman. Add in the horrible description of both sexes and it makes self discovery a greater task than climbing Mount Everest.
Continue reading ‘Dreams Mothers and Sexuality’
Most of these are based on anger and feeling overwhelmed and taxed. One in particular has to do with Bella being sick yet again. There’s one I like to call basic or primitive which is the box with the three colors around it. It shows how shut down I was feeling after a nightmare written about in my sketchbook. One drawing shows a woman hanging from a tree. There’s a house in another tree and they’re surrounded by bright colors as her body is picked over by vultures. I have no idea where that came from but I do know I purposely made it all bright and sunny with a very dark theme.
Some of my anger issues have to do with the loss of a friendship which I cherished. I’m quite angry over that and wish it hadn’t come to such a senseless end as it did. There’s confusion and concern for why I can’t seem to keep my head on straight at home right now. Also in the drawings are a few dream themes of things morphing from one thing to another. I think the one that stands out for me most is the one that’s all bright and cheerfully painted but has a dark theme. It’s presented as almost a childlike drawing, presented as innocent and maybe even fun, that’s what the colors say anyway. It’s hard to know what to feel when I look at it. It’s a true representation of my inner conflict, of the face I show outside, the craziness in my head, where I want to go, where I’ve been and the loss of energy trying to make sense of it all. There are so many contradictions and …..yeah, nothing is what it seems to be. Never trust the colors……
Continue reading ‘Never Trust The Colors’
Tucked under the warmth of her covers she cradled the phone between her ear and the pillow. With a voice full of nostalgia she said: You’re fortunate to be able to trace your roots back to Africa. Life started there. It’s the center of everything….. I’d hoped she would leave it there but she was in a sentimental mood and needed to speak what was in her foggy, dream filled mind.
The African people are so strong and the children are beautiful. I only met one ugly baby when I was there. I think strength is in their DNA. They’re such resilient people, …and they can dance. White people can’t dance, why is that?
That’s when I started drinking.
fma
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