I used to think I was rewarding myself with food because I did something amazing. Continue reading “Maybe Magnificence Doesn’t Suck”
As I am in serious pain today, on my way to get some relief, I was seriously cursing the rain and gray skies. And then this happened and suddenly I’m transformed. Continue reading “Unicorns and Rainbows”
So much sadness – playing out. Her mental illness more translucent than ever. Infantile, empty, spiraling, desperate. Her energy screams- save me. Her wanting to orchestrate, push and control others. More than happy to reduce (anyone but primarily) her children, to servants. Her constant chatter, talking just to talk. Pitiful attempts to get her soldiers to respect her, respect her wishes, follow her crazy, blindly. Unsuccessful. Relentless reporting out to others. People, facts she’s confusing. Desperate to connect the dots, connect with others, but clueless as to how to execute.
I can’t help you mother. I never could. Any sign of weakness or vulnerability – sinking your teeth in, you just consumed me. If I give up my boundaries, my SELF, I can have a Mother. You can’t help it. I know this. The wanting I feel in your energy field keeps me just out of reach. You pulled the strings, a masterful puppeteer, directed my life. And when I strayed too far onto the edge of reality or erected a healthy boundary… you schooled me with your disapproving looks and shame.
Although I feel crushing sadness for the way you’ve regressed, your devouring, degrading and energy snatching persona is repulsive to me. If only you were able to see what I see. If only. Instead you slip deeper into your unreality. Maybe one day, eventually, forgetting who I am. Completely. That should hurt when your biological Mother cannot remember who you are… I think it hurts more that she NEVER knew who I really was under the handcrafted outward appearance of a pretty, sweet, unassuming Catholic girl. It hurts more that I didn’t have a good Mother. An available Mother. A warm, safe Mother. Can she really forget something/someone she never knew in the first place?
I can’t save you from the life you’ve fashioned for yourself. Non-reality will be permanent for you now. Dementia, a gift of sorts. It’s what you’ve always wanted – your brain finally conceded. Thank you for teaching me what to run from, separating myself. Giving everything up to protect myself from degradation, shame, guilt, control, crazy, intrusiveness, invasion, abuse, betrayal…too much to list.
I can’t save you now. I never could.
Don’t mind me, I’m just living my best life. As a woman, my natural state of being is confident, sensual, powerful, WILD. And get out of my way cause I’m feeling all of it. Something about this cool crisp air, flushing out the stagnant left over summer heat. It fans the embers of my soul. Embers that glow unapologetically, especially when everything around me is going to shit. I’m not trying to dumb down my joy or connection with spirit because someone else is suffering with debt, disease or divorce. I do give a shit but trust that I can still feel amazing even tho I’m surrounded with suffering.
I’m sure I could come up with something to torment myself over – 30 lbs overweight, seasonal allergies, nerve pain in my left ass cheek 🤪 or whathaveyou- but oh well, instead I’d rather fill my senses with the little, plentiful pleasures in life. Those lovely sensory field trips such as walking barefoot in the grass, wearing a fitted dress and heels for no reason, putting on a juicy orange-red lipstick, creating a fresh picked wild flower wreath for my head, sitting in the garden with my eyes closed…You know, simple, delicious shit because I matter. Because there are no guarantees. Because I don’t care if anyone approves. Because only I can do this for myself.
Be fabulous. Be a Queen or King. If just for a moment. If just for today. Anyways.
This or better.
Hello my darling ANXIETY.
What is it you want to tell me?
I promise I won’t curse you or otherwise chase you away today.
The fact that you’re here now – a good indication that I’m ready now and finally prepared to hear your message.
You’re here anyway, so I might as well, lend you an ear.
I let you in many years ago, I guess it’s only natural that you’d want to be set free.
You kept me safe and on guard when I needed to be.
You are no longer needed to the extent that you were.
I’ll keep checking in with you over the course of today.
Maybe we can get to know each other better when we’re not triggered.
Maybe we can craft an easy transition to a more peaceful existence.
Maybe I can get to know where you begin and I end.
This is just the beginning of our goodbye.
Maybe I can, ANXIETY, maybe I can.
Expectation is the root of much of our suffering. Wanting others to think or behave differently can bring great despair. Continue reading “To Expect is to Suffer”
Oh. The rain falling. Reminds me of all the parts of myself that are falling away. Continue reading “Cleansing Rain”