I’m in love with lazy mornings. Warm bedsheets. Aimless thoughts. Continue reading “In Love #2”
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.
Saturday. It’s so nice to see you – I’ve waited since last time we met to be with you once again. Continue reading “Saturday!”
Feeling gratitude for my slice of this earth…
to feel what nature has to offer,
to hear sounds of wild things,
to see vibrant colors and changing landscape,
to play on the land- limited only by my own creativity.
I acknowledge the privilege of tasting the fruits of my relationship with Mother Earth.
THIS. As I sit in this beautiful space.
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]