I’m ADHD, so I constantly move, doing this or organizing that, unless lost in a reverie, seeing in my mind somewhere, someone beautiful to me. Recently, I find you riding me in moments where others ask, “What are you thinking about?”
I keep coming up with a quick fix, yet it’s surprising when, outta the blue, I have these momentary lapses of reason, in which I’m so happy…my face is sore wanting MORE! Boy, you nailed my sweet spot.
And though busy nights and days keep me from being able to find your face, images so very tantalizing I’m giddy waiting to go again, I love to do it again and again and again in my head with a lucidity that gets me caught;)
(Sorry, I don’t know how to share the adorable clip picture thingy of riding a mechanical ‘bull’ but a hot corn dog! I shit you not, it got me in a funny way that I’m struggling to ignore with an “Oh! I love you!” Yelled out uncontrolled, lol…I crack myself up sometimes 😅)
Ok so here, this helps to calm me as my theme music when life becomes overwhelming (from an absolutely adored album & my music league entry for round of 7min or longer:)
Piano Concerto No. 1
But, of course this is followed by one of my favorite love songs of all-time…a dedication, if I may be romantic and bold
You are the blanket that I sleep with, my cosy cover that protects me from my nightmares (the ones that used to make me yell when I sleep). Security singing me goodnight with a warm caress, the corner wrapped around my chin while dreams roll movies vivid…sexy…coming unexpected, coming…naturally, organic moments I don’t create, moments my brain has its way, and you’re next to me, kissing my desires like they matter…as for me, my lips eat you like my favorite treat, always so luscious, so sweet, especially when I’m laughing, cheeks sore from smiling so wide.
Yes, my blankie is so very important in my world. A childishness I cradle just before the clock strikes midnight, like magic will happen and one day, some day my blanket will come to life giving meaning to all my strife…
I know, I know, yeah right, lol.
Eyes finally closing while I write after a true storm that knocked out all power in my town, I have a truth: I found an out! I’m going to start cleaning across the street at my English teacher friend/neighbor’s house (she’s separating from a guy who’s contentious:( yet, she and I agree that I need a way to find FREE!
Dark shadows be damned, this morning as a block party began, I didn’t think I could muster the courage to go, so I asked myself, If he could, what do you think he would’ve said???
And I held his power tight, my mind ready to do that party right! And I rocked the night (a gummy helper to keep my anxiety bugs outta sight;) chatting with a political candidate and his beautiful Guatemalan wife, I mended beloved bridges I destroyed with old friends.
I used a little bit of latent moxie, and I’m triumphant! I made a positive memory!!! In the world of anxiety and PTSD, triggers are negativity grown like brain-weeds, strangling reality, so good memories mean more than gold, so precious that life without them is madness.
With my other sleeping until his hangover, tonight I’m happy cleaning alone, listening to my favorite album, dancing when no one sees, relishing my tiny success story, waiting to warm up my dreams with a lullaby, eyes dropping to us dancing cheek-to-cheek as I fall asleep.
All day, again and again, I bite my lip smitten by all the ways I can envision playing a game called “Sweet Spot” in which I suck all your sweets as my favorite treats.
(Reality readers: Wow, so easy to love this new track, to go sneak off and do it again and feel the energy that flows through my whole body as I listen (my naughty making my appetite so much more of a lustful craze-crave, but I know I MUST behave!!!
Oh, how I long to play…
Funny, kid in bed and him in the garage, I’m alone on a Saturday night again. But, that’s ok, I’ll just pull out a little friend, who lights up my dark by showing me a door that opens me OUT of my world 🚪;)
Twenty years ago, for almost ten, when anxiety got the best of me, his presence brought a sense of safety, security that he’d never leave me. Time made jade a dark daily demeanor with an insipid tone and harsh evaluation of every word I say, every single thing I do. A decade of me feeing dead (except for my kids), ten years of “fuck hope” because Netflix limited series lineup got me fine with laying alone in bed, ten fucking years of ugly I carried inside, wondering, Am I really here? Am I breathing?
Upon a Transcendental moment, the light beamed so bright, it flowed from my eyes changing my sight.
Now, I own a power I don’t understand yet, a perspective differing from my own…
YES, outside the one he’s been able to control.
I’m empowered to take on his many ‘big dick days’ with something beautiful instead of hating myself for being myself, which obviously is someone he doesn’t like.
I want to be fair, but after 20 years, I experienced it all many, many times before, nothing is new. Even though his physical body is here every day after work, he does not participate, with the exception of the occasional short moments of loving on the kids.
I’m a burden, but expected to be warm.
Days like this, I’m glad I have my blog because he really hurt me today and I just want to run away.
I found a moment of magic along the sunset walk with my son. While he played, I watched as the lyrics singing in my brain bloomed a rose on a mushroom head.
“Inside the Heart a Hidden Language”Undiscovered County
“Inside the heart a book of matches.”
(Gratitude streams flow through my soul for the wizard who helped me find my own life-light out of the deadest darkness. I’m stronger.)
Trying to erase this doesn’t ease the pain of what is next, so I am putting it back up as a reminder that I do have fucking strength if I’d just allow myself to speak…
I wish I could handle conflict instead of literally hiding from it in my closet pretending to organize the chaos I’m in. No one knows, no one sees the battle raging in me.
