personal musings unleashed

We really do not know each other, do we?

Years were spent cultivating all these hateful thoughts. Up until today, all that is wrong with life, seemed to be my fault. I easily accepted blame and never fought the day my mom banished me from their life. I was not the daughter she wanted and I constantly told myself it was my fault. I really believed awful things, that ruminated in my inner conversations. I tortured myself with thoughts of hangings, driving over bridges and splashing into rivers, jumping from a third floor apartment window while pregnant with my first daughter. Or recently, recklessly scraping a knife across my neck and wrists, aimlessly staring out the kitchen window above the sink, while I witnessed a small trickle of blood seep out. The drops slid down and pooled near the drain. Blue dreams turned red. Hot and bothered, I quickly fed myself more lies.  I truly believed I did not deserve life. Lies I recognize now. Lies taught to me. Lies I easily fall back into when I am not staying present in the day.

I am not looking to place blame. Oh, well I will blame myself for getting caught up in a web of lies. Lies that told me I am no good…

I  believed that I was no good for the longest time. Therapy has done wonders for my soul. My heart and head no longer bleed needlessly. Only when I forget who I am.  I have learned to fight back. I am not cut by my own hands or any one else’s for that matter. Not anymore.

During this personal awakening, I have ventured to places I should not have. I became too brave and traipsed where I did not see the wrongdoing on my part or the wrongdoing of another. I enticed it to go on longer than it should because of feeling alone. Sometimes I want to indulge myself more. Whisper sweet things to strangers. They do not mind. Neither do I. But I am hurting people, including myself. It just has this turn on not easily turned off. Then realize I am not truly alone.

I live in a self-enclosed loneliness because I am afraid of true love. I begged for love during childhood and I simply do not understand real love. When it showed up, I fought and fight against it. Trying to convince others I am no good. They should kill me too. Surely make it easier to die, than by my own hands. I even had a cop ready to take his gun from his holster. I pushed just enough. But really not enough. I retreated from the edge. The dryness I remember. The trying to swallow while the heat rose from my feet. What was I asking for? Was this fight really worth anyone causing harm to another?

All these words sprout from somewhere deep… some words remain shallow and swim close to the edge of my skin. Others are dying for air and I happily let them out. Luckily for me, the words mostly die the minute they hit the atmosphere. Nothing survives without oxygen and these thoughts greedily suck up all the oxygen my body consumes. Often I am left with little but carbon dioxide. I am not a plant. Not even a humble clover or Venus Flytrap, as some men like to portray me. I need oxygen. I need to breathe.

——–

I know what would have happened to me had my past plans come true. But do you? Or would you even care?

Heck! You do not know me. Why do I think you do? Or want to.

How much do we want to know about others? Or others to know of us? It is easy to write. Well, not always. I struggle and then I struggle again, with posting. But I do write. And I do post. It is all here to read. Until it is no longer.

I think and rethink myself over. Over and over I turn the bells in my head and they always ring twice and I still never hear them. Do you?

death wish (suicide lies)

guilt drives staggered bones
the edge becomes
a point to ponder

what matters beyond
his farewell
unannounced -death arrived

luring me closer
take the plunge
you can thank me later

no need

I wrote the above to help me through a day, last week. It was not meant for public consumption, but after reading Aguycalledbloke this morning, i decided to share. This is but a snippet of my relationship with my mother.

Is it worth returning to this planet? Of trying to understand why i am so crazy today? Am i not making progress any more? Am i not rebelling against their prison, set-up to chain me to the past?

I am my own person. My parents are gone. They had their chance to live. I have today and i cannot live in their fear… a person cannot fully live, regretful.

My love of nature is born from my dad. For that i am eternally grateful.

Direction, June 2, 2018

Run free Jeanne! Run free…

growing up

Were you allowed to express yourself growing up? Or were your passionate explorations squelched?

Arts were a forbidden country for me. A taboo. Superstitions of poverty and starvation, my becoming promiscuous, rang from my mother’s mouth. Dad silently agreed. When i turned 18 i told them i was going to college. When they did not listen, i screamed “they couldn’t keep me imprisoned.” Dad reacted otherwise. His anger boiled over. I submitted and got married and had children. Then grew up. I became bold and started writing. Bought paints and danced on paper. Looked through a camera lens to find moments worth holding.

My heart reopened as a bee flew past. He promised fruit in my life if i would spread open my wings.

I fly away to dream.

pressed tight

Depression. And it’s accomplice, anxiety, arrived today. On horseback.

Out of the blue and bare-naked. Desperate to scare me. Both hoping to seduce.

I had ran away once. Appears now it will be twice.

Glanced to the side. Saw the consequences coming from a ways. It had to be more than a mile.

It was the voices that trapped my imagination. I trembled.

They brought shovels. Dug me a grave. Knew how weak i was and their plans overcame.

I gave in to their demands. Was there ever a chance?

Remember, neither proposed. They married you without consent.

Some day i will wake up.

My Monhegan

I am currently working on a painting My Monhegan, an island off the coast of Maine. Monhegan is a place that encompasses 95% of my spiritual thought while a mere 3 days and 2 nights were physically spent there. It amazes how much an impact the place had on me. A healing calm took me over and i only have to slip on those hiking shoes to feel the embrace around my soul.

At least the ones i have conquered.

In the meantime, while rushing from one idea to the next, for the past three days, i realized something important. I don’t hear the rattling noises in my mind. At least not as often as i use to and only when invited in. The loudness has abated with a new found courage. I have tamed the angry heart that broke and mended the fabric tears. The tears in my eyes have dried.

The scared child that cowered in the corner has found light. She has grown since last spoken to. The sex fiend has retreated and allowed a wholeness to take place. I convinced her sex is nothing compared to spiritual ecstasy. A spiritual relationship, with someone who can read my mind and play off my every mood, move and energy, is enticing. I have a few girlfriends like this. I have yet to make a pact with such a guy friend. I have a few in mind, but they don’t seem to understand the concept as i had envisioned they would. Such a collaboration is still open to anyone. Even long distance. I am open and my heart twirls in excitement to find such a guy. If such a person exists. 🤨

As if a light switch was flicked on and off, on and off, the hurt, which once overcame me, has now been overcome. The chaos inside has relented and been subdued.

I win! I won!
I run! I swim!
I fly away…