Humanity

Two Distinct Ideas. glommed together.

  1. I’ve been having bad dreams lately. the kind where you wake up and shake your head and feel anxious in your heart and go back to sleep and end up in exactly the same place.
    dream one: having an old argument with an old argue-partner, in which i am reminded how easy it is to gaslight me, which has many layers in it. his completely unacceptable behaviors were justified to me, and I struggled (again) to absorb the justifications as valid.
    dream two: really big house party (mine) in which there are long and lithe people in black and white and beauty and dancing and a gorgeous house that i really would love…and I don’t know anyone and I’m waiting for someone to arrive that i can talk to. the only person who does is an old lover that I’m embarrassed to explain this all to. I spend the dream avoiding and seeking his presence.  and feeling really isolated whilst surrounded by people. I do dance though.

There is a full moon, i am full of premenstrual hormonal shift. I never, ever, remember dreams. I have a new love who is challenging me in many core ways and I am fighting HARD the notion that I can rely on someone else.  HARD.  if i rely on someone again, i will be crushed and therein lose my ability to do this all by myself like i am.  I’m the only thing that is permanent here.

this is fairly distressing to type as well as to feel.

2. The kitchen is a goddamned mess. I need the kids to be back in school.  There is too much screen time and I’m missing them while they are having such fun times with their dad.  It is too much sometimes, and I”m overloaded by the disparities between the two and my rational brain really does argue for my value but ouch, sometimes. guess what? i do not own a boat or have the ‘best’, or buy my kids ipads because they win a dare.  i just can’t. and so i feel like a loser sometimes and right now the kitchen just feels too big to even tackle. i’ll do one corner of it today before all pandemonium of my work shift/drive kid to babysitting grandmother sets in. probably. or maybe i’ll just cry in the corner. hello moon. and hormones, hello.

aren’t you glad you stopped in?  hee hee. ugh.

and so, a brilliantly beautiful photo to round it out:

Carrots in a Yellow Bin UnwifedMotherExpletive

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Humanity

kablooey–pudding brain

Nothing is wrong.  I’m just a major sufferer of summer brain, and thats the truth, ruth. Even when i have the time, i rarely get to writing. and its a real truth also, that i’ve had a lot of time this summer without kids, and i haven’t liked it, and I’ve watched too much tv in an attempt to avoid the self-identity issues that come with the removal of the kids.  And I want them to spend time with their father, i do. in fact, i make it so, all the time. but still. I’ve been feeling stuck in chocolate pudding, which at first few bites is the most delicious thing in the world, and then .  on bite 5 you begin to wonder about that slight metallic taste, though you keep eating…

and then its gone, and you know you would eat more if it were there, and you’ve lost all interest in it, and wonder about your own ability to monitor yourself as an adult. you do. i know you do. i can’t be the only one.

Its August something. And I’ve paid for this year’s bus transportation, and have been just been notified of soccer tryouts. Its winding down, or up, as you see it. Summer, while working from home, and adding in a part time job, makes me feel all stuck. in that pudding, you see? hence, hithertofore, the no-writing.

and now you can see how much you’ve benefited from my absence.

I’m laughing like a crazy head pudding eater.

Black and Yellow Stripes Pudding Brain Unwifedmotherexpletive

 

 

Humanity

Today’s Mood is not a good one.

just letting you know.

  1. All my chickens got eaten. This would be an AGAIN situation.  I’m renaming spring.  Tis now, “That time Kate fed foxes.”
  2. I’m going to build a huge pen, to house the fucking rooster who is still alive.  Okay, so can we talk about his job performance here? Because I really would like to, and it doesn’t seem like real live people in real life want to hear me rant about the cock and all the blusterfuck that goes with it. Helloooo guy who drives a HUMMER.
  3. I’m going to build a huge pen and see if i can make it super strong and viable with pallets and essentially found objects because i really do not have extra money. and I have a handy man around these days and he says its coo.
  4. so coo.
  5. i really like having chickens. it feels like a tie to the ground, and i want to be tethered like that.
  6. it just occurred to me that if i don’t have chickens i am more free to move. that is a whole kettle of fish that i am not really looking at until the last one is 18, and thats a whole different kettle. and all of it makes me sad. i love this place. LOVE.
  7. FUUUUCK.
  8. I love this month, its my birthday month. and school is ruining it.  i live in tremendous fear and anxiety that i am missing the ‘pivotal’ ‘most important’ cute things of their educational careers.  the kids don’t like being the only kids with no parents there, even if they literally NEVER are the only kids with no parents there. i feel sick at buying into the overparenting bullshit. but here i am.
  9. i’m going to be 45. i love it. what a fucking great number.
  10. thats all i got. mood. just rode on a rider mower for an hour, cleaning up my yard.
    BOSS.

 

love you,

uwmf0518190734

Humanity

Projection is a motherfucker.

I did, I did try to come up with a better title. I mean, there are kids here.

But my kids know my language, and thankfully have no interest in what i write, so, good.

So. therapy yesterday was cancelled because there were, albeit temporarily, two kids home sick from school.  one went in late because she had a nap and all was well. turns out, my almost 14 year old still likes to whip himself into a froth about exciting things and is comatose in my bed while he ‘prepares’ for his trip to DC.

But, I got to talk to Chakra Carol on the phone because I really, really want to know what all this harsh judgement of others is doing/serving/exposing in me… because i’m not really allowing myself to talk to anyone because i’m so ugly inside and it just hurts.

Chakra Carol says:

A relationship arrives which gives you the opportunity to heal.  You have a lot of anger, but now there is no one to pin it on.  You cannot trust, but there is no one to pin it on.  SO KABOOM, out into the universe it goes…

KABOOM.  because, dealing with it in myself is much less clear and easy than looking at other people and judging them for what sins i see in myself. pretense, manipulation, control issues…

Am I false? falsifying my life? Am I manipulating facts to make pretty stories? (i seem to be failing this, if its my intention, because hello ugly.) Mostly, I don’t think so but ask me if I value my self… i dare you.

Ask me if I believe in my innate goodness? Do i deserve fresh coffee or do i deserve yesterday’s remains? (this, yes, is actually a thing)

My fears are running wild. so i have work to do.  noticing. ( a big C.C. thing)  in noticing, not judging.

say, ‘I am fearful of being in a relationship in which I am not mistreated’.

say, ‘I am afraid that I am inherently unlovable.’

say, ‘I do not trust that I can be loved.’

Notice it in me, and don’t judge it. let it lie. point at it, if need be, but let it lie.

slow. slow. slow.

roll on it like a marble.  but don’t judge it.

maybe if i can lay it down like a river, i’ll remember my compassion for myself, and by the transitive property, the rest of the world.

because .  we both deserve it. me. and the world.

Shrubbery Heart Unwifedmotherexpletive
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Humanity

Typing it out

0504191041cwhen you work from home and spend most of the hours of the day by yourself…. hmm…

i’m a strong introvert and really like it, most of the time.

and then there are the problems.

when i actually have a mental tussle going on (or god forbid, emotional) being in isolation is not necessarily the best thing, because i just go round and round and round. telling myself to slow down or ‘breathe’ isn’t really effective and i don’t seem to have the mental/physical connection that gets me out to take a walk or some other sort of production of endorphin answers.

sigh.

the pattern of life right now is such. 5 days a week of parenting from 3-10 pm. (plus mornings, but aye..thats a slowmo/fast forward thing on schooldays) … weekends with such an amazing plethora of sexual satisfactions, i really can’t even talk about it without changing the rating of the site.  back to the m-f.

one weekend a month i have the kids and there is no sex to be had that weekend.

i’ve still got my hours here during the day but i am feeling the strange, clunky feeling of ritual/repetition that i don’t like.  and i’m not really sure what to make of it really.

am i missing life ‘before beau’? when my weekends to myself were filled with unscheduled time, and television bingeing and the occasional chinese food box? when i thought of something and just did it? when i went to all the games?

hm.

is it the resistance to ritual? to repetition?  fear of what this particular repetition and ritual might mean? is that phase of my life actually over? have i said the right phrases to let it go? am i being a complete idiot? (that, right there, is resistance, in form of self-deprecation and self-mutilation, when taken deeper) …

am i more rebel than obliger after all?  i can’t imagine that. but man, i feel the pull of the earth and the gandalf  spin into  ‘i shall not be moved’.

and thats a big fucking spin. and watch out. because if there is one single object in the slowly spinning world refusing the move, the whole thing crashes and burns. so hang on.

geeks know ‘resistance is futile’ but goddamnit, i am in deep.