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I was on my way home from therapy and in decent shape. I wasn’t overly dissociative nor was I overly stressed so I figured I’d stop off at DAV because after all it was dollar Monday. I wondered what sort of treasures I might find. Since I forgot my wallet at home I abandoned my treasure hunt and headed straight home. Before I could get home I’d have to cross the railroad tracks. I could see up ahead the red lights flashing warning of a coming train so I slowed my speed appropriately. I was breathing slowly, almost in a content sort of way. Normally one would desire that but in no way were my thoughts peaceful or joyful. I pulled off to the side in the parking lot of a paint supply store and got out of the car. I lit a cigarette and let the train pass by. After it was no where in sight I got back in my car and went home, alive.
Continue reading ‘On The Railraod Tracks’
- I hope to one day accept success the way I do failure.
- I hope one day I’ll be able to take a few risks and not plan my every step.
- I hope I won’t feel physical pain to this degree for the rest of my life.
- I hope to feel clean when I step out of the shower.
- I hope for a shower where no tears are shed.
- I hope to walk with my head up because I mean it not because that’s what I was trained to do.
- I hope to one day wake up happy with someone I’ve slept beside for years and years.
- I hope to feel comfortable in my own skin
- To feel safe with being loved
- and to love myself the way I love my neighbors.
I hope, because lack of hope is terminal.
Continue reading ‘The Hope Agenda’
There’s never enough lemon in lemon cookies.
I watched a Forensic Files marathon today and realized I have no alibi for yesterday.
She was artistic and musical but horrible in the kitchen, however my mother made the best pancakes I’ve ever had in my life. We didn’t even put syrup on them. Today I made her pancakes. So, so good.
There was a slight twinge of guilt as I ate catfish in the presence of my carp. Guilt was burned away by Cajun spices on said dinner.
I have a really good therapist. Thank goodness for this because each morning when my feet hit the floor I think to myself, I’m screwed but not as badly as yesterday.
Continue reading ‘Thoroughly Screwed and Other Randomness’
I’ve repeatedly said that my sister hated me and that my mother kept us apart but I thought of something the other day. What if she knew how I really felt about her? What if she knew despite all I did to help out that I resented the fact that she didn’t fight more? What if she knew behind my smile, behind my helpful hand was disgust and anger because she couldn’t be more like me? What if she knew? Maybe that’s part of the reason she hated me so because she did know.
I’d chase kids and pull them off her. I’d beat them up but then go home and yell at her for being so weak! Oh I was so angry that she never stood up for herself and left it up to me. While hitting those kids I was furious that they had the nerve to touch my big sister. Who did they think they were and why did they think they’d get away with it? Here’s a kick to the stomach and a fist to the mouth. Think about that the next time you want to put your hands on my big sister. But I’d turn around and go home angry, cursing and screaming (much like my mother) that she ran like a coward, that she cried and backed down.
Continue reading ‘Maybe She Knew’
Concrete city, dark, chaotic, unwelcoming. On paper it looks pretty but would you really want to walk in it alone?
My head has its own community, its own chaotic, lost community. Sometimes we appear to be just fine but that’s only from people who have never walked alone, down the streets of my mind.
Medium: Oil pastel, ink on paper
I don’t expect to ever be free of nightmares. And I don’t expect to ever be free of anxiety or fear or even depression. I think they may be my forever companions and that would be just fine if it weren’t for the fact that I believe in monogamy. If one of these emotions or emotional responses partnered up with me while the others left me alone I just might survive this whole ordeal. But it seems emotional bigamy with a sadistic twist is more the order of the day.
I’d like be free. I’d like to be single….singular.
Art details: The middle image represents me. I’m choked by my past and caught up in swirls of questions and high emotion. There are 3 primary faces in the painting while several others are hidden in color or texture. The three faces have very different expressions, calm, fearful and sad. The main figure in white is faceless.
The blue and white sketch is where this painting began.
Details: Dog figure with human eyes and nose with flowers growing from his mouth.
Title: The Art of Running
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