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Showing posts from January, 2017
there is this defining moment that is found in deep struggle.  i think there is a reason that so many successful people have had difficult backgrounds.  when you encounter great pain there is this mental decision that is made and one either succeeds farther than they ever imagined or one fails, and either direction one goes, it's usually in a big way.

when everything first happened, i remember feeling mad that i still had two kids to take care of.  like my life would have been easier if i didn't have any members of my family around and i could have just sold everything and become a hermit in the mountains for a while or something.

(also a disclaimer on feelings.  can we as a society, please stop being afraid of how we feel and acknowledge that they are not logical or good or bad, they are just there.  i have had very very dark feelings in this at times, but when i allow myself to feel them fully without judgment, they are more easily dissipated and seen for what feelings are,…
to lane,

hey bubba.  i don't know if you know how much i love you, it's a crazy lot.  we are funny- you and i, you have these moments of absolute independence and not giving a shit whether i'm around and then these moments where it's just obsession.  most of the time, it's just chill between us.  but when you go- boy, you give me hell.  today you were screaming because i couldn't figure out that you wanted to eat COLD BUTTERNUT SQUASH for breakfast.  seriously who does that, i don't even do that.  i warmed it up and you threw the bowl and said "NO! NO!" all the while screaming.

with you my fears are different, i don't worry about you so much.  you seem natural at life, in a way that most people in their forties still aren't.  when you were born it was as if you looked around and said "oh this again?"  you take everything in stride, thumb in your mouth, eyes open.  i remember when you were born, your little half whine - you didn&…

it still comes.

you know how when you get a really deep wound, they tell you to apply pressure so you don't bleed out.

sometimes that's how this feels.  like i've just stopped the pain but it's there, under my fingertips, pulsing, waiting for my grip to slip.  it's nights like these, where i've read my poetry and sipped my tea, where addy's breaths are beside me, where i've taken my xanax and one two three... still.awake.

i think about him, sometimes i think i hear my children crying.  i almost always think that if i stay awake.  my worst fears, confirmed, another child slipped through my fingers.  when elly died people told me "this is the worst you'll ever live through" and i felt this sense of foreboding when it was said.  everything in me wanted to knock on wood and throw my hands up like "i'm not the one testing fate over here!" and that's the reality isn't it? there is no threshold to suffering.  there is no quota to be filled…

you don't have power and i don't care about being private

they want us to change
they say look at this, look at that
fix it, fix yourself, fix you
youuu are (WRONG)

lift, tuck, primp, pout
you are a girl
(don't you get it?)
you can't play with us

the weaker sex
weak?
the weakness is letting them in your mind
the weakness if found in letting their opinions define you

it is your flaws that make you beautiful
beauty is not found in perfection
beauty is not a straight edge grid
laid out, end to end (NO END in sight)

you fight, but you don't fight them
you fight yourself?
"self, you don't do this correctly""self, stop doing that"
remember (remember)

no one can love you AS MUCH as
YOU have the potential to love yourself
to love you must know, to know you must accept
there is knowledge to be found (within yourself)

your words? they do not define me
the truth is found in my soul
your stares? they do not affect me
i walk by unperturbed

you, they, them
do not define me.
my worth is found within myself (in my light)

the following.

the following is from a journal entry a little over a month ago.  sometimes i look back over my own writing and the wisdom in it catches me by surprise.  that's not to blow my own horn, it's more to say, it is so easy to lose sight of knowledge we keep within ourselves.  remind yourself of who you are, bring yourself back to the roots.

you look to them to either prove security or to prove it cannot be- either way, that is not their role.  it's not about them.  security cannot be found.  it's about having something broken that shouldn't have been forged in the first place.  the crystal pieces of illusion crashing around you do not lend themselves to building you stronger.
(pull back, pull back, pull back)
for you do not know who you are (pull back)
(pull back) for you must find it before it can be given
do not allow others to give you their idea of yourself
you are frightened but you are ok.  you will not make the same mistake twice.  your lesson - so brutally learne…

to my mom.

hi mom,

it feels weird to write this, after almost 21 years of not having you here.  i don't know why i've never written.  it probably has to do with children just wanting to shut doors on trauma, and before jim and elly died, i wasn't really in the habit of writing letters to any dead people.  i hope some part of you gets this.

i miss you so much.  i've cried so much for you this weekend.  just thinking about a myriad of things really, who you were as a person, how jealous i am of people that knew you as an adult when we never got that time together, what you would tell me as a single mom, what it would feel like to have you here...  this was the first time in almost seven years that i've cried for you by myself.  it felt lonely, an ache increased by another ache.  i didn't even know that could happen.  i just had to lean against my wall and cry quietly less addy overhear me again.

mommy.  i miss you.  i wish you were here.  i hope you get to hold elly.  she…

the gap.

when you left (left me)
i had a gap
it was big (daunting)
like the grand canyon getting stuffed in
a sandwich bag

could i fill it?
of course,
i could and i tried
new.new.new

i tried (everything)
hair? clothes? shoes?
they all came pristine
in their boxes, unmarred by society

and every time they arrived
i seemed less dirty
less marred and scarred
here's your delivery ma'am

and i received them all as
third party as could be "oh is this for me?" i deserve (it) 's been a hard year
and then, the year passed. 2017- it entered, quietly.   slipping into my bed unannounced after hours like a lover
and more packages came and i i looked at them and said thank you for coming but i  i don't need you anymore
you see, there is no gap i am whole in my healing, i am whole and out the door they went
and i leaned into myself tapping into the energy that was always (always) available to be made  useful and complete
and i said thank you. thank you to the packages thank you to the…

vulnerability and being a writer.

i think most writers are probably introverts.  there is a certain level of self-awareness that must be present in order to articulate stories, especially if they are your own.  it is what makes writing so difficult for me at times.  i am, at my core, an introvert, yet i hit publish on some of the deepest, raw feelings.  in the beginning, it was a compulsion, i was in so much pain, pain that i could not have born alone.  so i shared, i hit publish.  now it has and continues to change, my pain is becoming more of mine to bear alone, my grief is becoming more and more inward.

once when we were dating, i wrote this essay, i guess you could call it, on jim and i.  just a random piece of my thoughts expressed in a certain fiction way.  i never showed it to him, i was too embarrassed, too afraid of what he would think.  i found it after he died and i was looking through my old posts, most of which are and continue to be drafts (thoughts for my head and not meant to be shared).  i showed it …