I knew from the moment I saw him, he’d be trouble. Those dimples, dangerous teeth and someone-left-the-gate-open eyes. Continue reading “Electricity”
I’ve caught myself red handed. Reaching, expecting someone to fulfil deep core deficits, gaping holes in my existence. Continue reading “Caught Myself Red Handed”
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.
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.
I close this day today giving a voice to those nasty little gnat thoughts, buzzing around crazily, irritatingly, making me want to hide under cover. Continue reading “My Basket”
It’s Ok when you don’t believe me.
It’s ok when you deny my reality.
When you want me to shut up.
If you ignore me.
If you think I’m wrong.
If you think I’m crazy.
If you tell everyone I’m the problem.
If you still think I’m angry.
It’s ok if you smile and act like you’re listening.
It’s ok if you’re not in my life.
It’s ok if you never will be.
I am free. Anyway.
[A Fish Named Karen, artwork – A Fish Named Karen]
There are so many people in your same situation. Speak your truth. Say it anyway. Don’t ever feel silly or too angry or like you’re gloating or complaining. Continue reading “A Thousand Times”