No more weak, no more speaking fucking meek, I know what I need.
I need ME to stop being a pussy and find my cheetah: direct, confident, and fast as lightning when chasing what it wants to eat for sustenance, for brain candy.
I’m taking back my control to reestablish connection with my soul…Even drowning, I want to be able to dance a groove on the ocean floor!
Control. I will own my control. A wheeled wonder woman ready to pave my own road, that’s what I want to be.
A heart walled in by bars staked down to my gut and piercing me when I talk…that’s what my pain has done with time. A full-time job to upkeep, but only sleep solicits a sense of lovely peace from a brain that hates, a load of loathe that I can’t escape.
I want to be different. I want to embrace glowing! I swallow hard that feeling.
I’m always trying to find a way out…out of my brain, out of my house, out of my marriage, out…out…out DAMN spot! Out past demons that retain too much control! I rule my life!
Instead of a jaw clench, I twist and bite my bottom lip. No more downturned scowl! I have a cheesy, pink-cheeked grin now. Lungs suffocating to finally breathing even when life’s challenging, that’s what you’ve given to me.
What you may not know is that I have a light behind my lids where you walk in the door, and you look into my eyes when I touch your skin…a moment that strengths my soul, inspiration for more.
I don’t know what we’re doing, I don’t know if it actually means anything to you, but you make my eyes smile so tight with pleasure that the corners become wet.
I wish I could tell you tonight that I dream of running my hand over your skin, learning you as you feel my hand move, a game in which we both win…
Oh my fantasy, that’s what you do to me. I want someone I can’t have, but who drives me crazy.
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.
Hopelessly Inappropriate Thoughts 