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Thoughts about my daddy issues

If this is hanging my “dirty ” laundry’ out then I will say that this a fresh lot of laundry, just out the machine. It smells of. Jasmine & posies. It’s clean.
And me? I’m only a rag n bone hope sapien like the rest of us. I do what I do to get by. Enjoy your day & if it isn’t Father’s day in South Africa (it is here in your Yorkshire).
I can still see the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh & I can hear your laugh in my inner ear (or mind).
HAPPY FATHERS DAY!
I wish I could give you a hug cos I know how close you were to your Dad. And the loss is hard. You have support ( and I will be thinking of you). I still remember how you broke down great Grandad fell ill when I was 12 or summit. I hugged you. And you let me hug you. It made me cry. These are my words.

Will dance for Life.

“To become a spectator of one’s own life is too escape the suffering of life” OSCAR WILDE

WILL DANCE FOR LIFE 

“To become a spectator of one’s own life is to escape the suffering of life” OSCAR WILDE

Last night, I came across this quote and I began to ponder on  it. I went to bed with it in my head. It is obvious to me that I have been a spectator when I was taking drugs or drinking too much.  Yet, I was still suffering.

I think the way I dealt with social services when I was proving myself as a worthy mother  was a time when I should have suffered the most.

I didn’t cry every night. Hardly ever.

I didn’t go drinking and getting high and over-dosing every night or even every 6 months.

I began to watch my life unfold.

I was actively participating in it but for a while  my mind needed breaks- binge watching horror  movies, stand up comedy and other series .Learning to eat properly  again and not party.Take my medication even though it makes me put on weight.  I couldn’t be a Brecht- like spectator 24/07

I learned to live an almost hermetic existence. I  DID become closer to my Mom and my hubby and I found out a lot about who I really am.

I couldn’t throw myself in the whole emotional vortex that was my life 24/7  because I think I  would still be in it.

I had to take it day by day.

Moment by moment.

I had to become an active spectator because I had a  choice to make. We always have a choice to make.

Of course on some level I must have suffered not being able to see my daughter for more than 10 hours a week for 16 months.

But the more I stopped looking at social services’ presence in my life as an invasion. I began to observe them as they did with me and the relationship dynamics began to change.

It’s a most surreal idea to say I never suffered when I was fighting for my daughter.

When the control of how I governed my life needed a full 360  degree turn. The control became about governing myself.

I did have moments where like a spectator I cringed and was brought to tears and “oohed” and “aahed” .

 It was like listening to a song that disarms you for however many moments.

All songs end eventually.

Then, I was free to spectate again.

Sometimes not knowing what to do and just doing what I felt was right is what I think  saved me.

I called social services – MY UNWANTED ENTOURAGE.

It was our very public  joke .

Because let’s face it -if I  am ever going to need an entourage -I am going to pick a  P.A., a hairdresser, makeup artist, editor, childminder,accountant etc…

But on the other side of the coin if you remain a mere spectator in your own life –

yeah sure you  won’t suffer,but

you might just  forget to feel.

If I can’t feel then what is the point of getting married?

Having children?

Having friends?

If I can’t participate in life because I am scared I am going to be let down then that is just a cop out.

When I risk the chance of suffering or potentially being let down or hurt…

If I participate, I have  half a good chance to make things right.

I get to fight for who and what I want in my life.

So we must suffer but the rewards, on the upside ,are the people we have around us and the experiences we get to feel that makes suffering worthwhile.

There is a saying – it goes something like this:

“How can we be so sure to ever know  and appreciate true happiness if we have never experienced disappointment and unhappiness?” 

I have learnt to take more risks with my heart and I have become a more open and aware person.

Yes, when we love others – friends,family – our partners…

There are going to be rough times.

Just be there.

You don’t have to give advice.

Just listen and check in every now and then.

If you want someone in your life.

Ask that person to be there.

They can only say Yes or No.

More to gain than lose if your heart’s intentions are good.


Cupid scored

I’m convinced it is true love or close to the definition as one can come to.

You feed me physically, rehydrate me when I forget.

You feed my mind on subjects I’m passionate about sans regret.

You feed my psychological stance when it needs a new perspective

Laugh if in doubt

You never belittle me, you will tell me where you think I’m going wrong.

You believe in me, our connection, I know that money is a means to an end for the two of us.

You have a gift convincing me that I am beautiful even when I’m starting to show wear & tear.

You’ve convinced me to allow myself the risk of getting my heart broken again.

Cupid must be smiling today. He has scored.

And to add to this you

are my best friend.

( Simple words from a complex woman)

Entry 1

Today I woke up from a pre empted nightmare-the impending doom & gloom of the end of half term and the start of the school run. Early mornings, pushing myself to get out,exit the house!

Bee is in the bath.

Ma, I need you for xyz

My thoughts of what to put down temporarily suspended. Going out. I love being out and active. I love to not have to worrry that I’m not doing enough, to keep the scales from dictating my mood, my day. I’ve come to realize I’m a lazy anorexic thinker. Ha! Fancy that.

There, I’ve admitted it. Perhaps, by making an effort to write down my general every day thoughts, feelings and emotions again, it will incite an inner part of me to be aware of my surroundings again. Pull off a decorum of intelligent self expression. Put that intelligence into a wider context in my conversations and interactions with humans.

Help improve my memory. Pull off a Brian Eno -esque diary. Try and live a more fulfilling life. I’m morose (sad) because Gee and Bee are going to be out most of the day living a productive life again. I want to do more too.

I’m sad that I have made Gee sad ( scratch that) ANGRY at me! At me- for not severing all contact with him. I’m disappointed in myself for disrespecting Gee and myself. Bee will never know. I’m disappointed in myself for disrespecting Gee, myself too. I suspect drinking too much doesn’t help with my impulsive and risk taking behaviour.

The Ego seeks out more attention. I’m lonely. I want more from friendship. I want my life and sense of worth to have more meaning outside of my family.

Today the weather is in a glorious mood. Rays beaming . The sun has a warm smile for all. A complete contrast to my own demeanour. I’m standing under that thunderous cloud waiting for the lightening to strike down more familar thunderbolts to keep me from blooming again.

I’m happy. I’m happy because I have been putting ink down again. Snippets of poetry, fragments of words that make me feel a validated member of society. I need kinship in my interests. The only person I’ve spent time with talking about our mutual interests, in my physical ( not online) world is him. He isn’t afraid to give honest feedback. Honest -sometimes constructive critique.

How sad am I? Sad enough to feel offended that the other him-that parasite who only takes money from me and happiness from my family ‘dissed’ me when I thought I wanted a distraction from my mind. Something that the reckless part of me craves. Ignored me and my ego has been hurt! That is the tragedy. ( shrugs), I know Bee is going to call me to bath her and on cue- oh hang on- she *actually* asked me to get her an empty bottle to play with. A stray from from the usual routine I’m too familiar with, I actively endorse like .. like… (I have no idea)…family life is a business that cannot be traded as a commodity no matter what price?

The YOU phallacy

Jotting my thoughts. I’m prompted to make a complaint.

Little four-eyes when you were half your current size -why did you doubt yourself so?

Looking back to a densely plotted past – hazy.

What would you have done knowing all people doubt themselves even if it means you becoming the foe?

‘Have no regrets’ – the tagline of the present.

No regrets

No regrets

No regrets.

When you are looking at granny in a catatonic state, unable to walk or talk.

Fragmented images of people now gone by, tell me you won’t wonder how life would have played out by not taking assertive bets.

Complaints department!

See the sizeable queue

What can we do to answer people’s feuds?

Create a passage for people to commit to taking responsibility for themselves,

sign that in ink and wrangle with their moods.

Blame everyone.

You!

You,

and you!

The list unfolds until it reaches the flaws of flooring.

Finger-pointing in every direction.

Buckle up,

prepare to look within

Glimpse how far you can go before you understand only you can change your state of deploring.

Control comes not from puppeteering others.

Cut loose – let the strings fall.

Let people walk.

Hell, let them figure it out- leave them to crawl!

Worry about how you are going to make it.

What you need to do to advance in the dance – motions to elevate and bypass the savage instinct to maul.

How many complaints is your God of choice dealing with?

Her brassic attempt to fulfil everyone’s wish…

Did it ever occur to you to get off your indignant knees tPpppp] ppl check out the employment vacancies for extras needed to help your God succeed in appetizing your particular dish?

A girl’s introspection reflection

She lived a life of colour.
She lived a life of dull.

Throughout her life, she learned
That her desire for instant thrills

Having seen her become a woman who is miraculously
still alive!

Not a corpse waiting for her family to visit her grave mourning what life dispensed.

If her spirit inspired her desire to live as a dissident against the traditionalist life of her own free will.

10 days she was in a coma.

Today, she is alive and her perspective has changed on time,
on her ability to process the strength

She needs to draw upon less selfishness

to make life joyful for the ones who taught her that it’s okay to forget,

It’s okay to lose her way,
It’s all okay,

even when
She decides to instil what her children will impart

whether they take her advice seriously… Or on a whim.

Ghostly mother

She’s dying not wanton for living in nebulant world
caught up in a shimmer

She is my cognitive dissonance a prisoner or
the one who keeps me safe form all harm

She takes me to a blissful cave hung with roses

yellow

sunshine smiles challenge my retreat

If her love snuffs out

Flames of regret will burn until cinders remain

didn’t show her the true love she deserved when she was even ill
Selfish
Ignorant to what is in plain sight
Words tempted to expel her ignatius existence.

Death rattle

* This a poem that I wrote whilst waiting and comforting my mom and my gran before she passed over in March 2018, from vascular Dementia and Alzheimers. I wrote it while waiting for her to let go of Life. It’s a Morbid (and possibly strange) thing to do when someone you love is dying in front of you. This was one way of expressing my powerlessness, over a period 3 days watching someone cling on to this Life).*

Death rattle

Reminiscent of an uprising of crickets ready to battle.
Stare at a puffed updiamond heart
Drumming inside an empty cage.
Birds ripped apart.
Gargoyle stares ignored.
Folk bumble about unaware of what’s in store for us all,
eventually.
The breathe of Hades lingers
then makes a dash for scant flesh and bones.
Meat is not this gods instrument
Lust causes the call for more drones.
Sponge, moisten parched parted lips
Raven signals the ire of its whips.
The ones who don’t loose it in bedlam excite
Death,
Invites all loved ones to rally around
Stands by door.
Stands back a while
Admires its own power.
A moment to savour
Every door closed,
Each breath cloys,
Begs for enough fare to cross the distance to embrace Elysium air.
Today everyone shall know how close we are to parting from brown soil.
Lambs,
Hatched chickens,
Babies born in Cumbersome air.
The cycle must complete before we can emerge reborn.
Death is inevitable as necessary as life is to the Cumbaya of springs first show of petal.
When you look at the beginning of this new dawn,
Know that when you stand back in awe
Its because you have felt the chill of winters soul depart.
Shed a tear for the snowman who brought our youth so much joy.
Appreciate death.
Stare it in the face.
The sun chants
counting his rosary beads.
Tomorrow never dies.
Trying to type something while listening and watching my grandmother dying.
Rasp
Gasp
I support the assisted dying law.
This is inhumane!
A selfish farce.
Happy mothers day,
Wherever you go
Wherever you roam
I hope that it is a place as magnificent as earths revellers make it out to be.

Ma petit fripon. Je t’aims toujours

A poem from a strange daughter

If  foresight revealed you would  always  remain  my biggest fan

then in retrospect, I’m certain you wished that you had made a better escape plan.

I type these words weary & mothered out.

Wondering how I can still love a child who dismisses me without having to shout.

I do.

Mostly love

Mostly nag & figure motherhood out.

Is it worth it?

Life is fleeting.

these words would sound better if interpreted by a Geisha learning how to interpret the I Ching.

Silver linings

strive to find a purpose.

Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you may make you stronger

It also makes one weary and often a bit teary.

 I carry on the tradition

light  your cake as a reminder

that without you there would be no fire lit in my belly savouring the meaning of meaning.

Life is a celebration, a trial and cursed blessing.

I have no words to convey how much I have sinned.

To quote a wise lady I’ll be happy if I can be a quarter the lady my mother is when…

she draws the curtains on her solo performance of a life lived.

life would have been sung by the haunting blues & myriad cherubs singing ‘Elysium exists’ hymn after hymn.

Happy birthday –  psalm 58 to the creator of  hope & faith

a celebration to your mortality.

Insightful are those who keep a track of the moments lived in the presence

& know how to make all of it count.

La fripon- Flopsy Ears

Death rattle

Reminiscent of an uprising of crickets ready to battle

Stare at a puffed updiamond heart

Drumming inside an empty cage. Birds ripped apart.

Gargoyle  stares ignored.

Folk bumble about unaware what is in store for us all- eventually.

The breathe of Hades-

Lingers then makes a dash for scant flesh and bones.

Meat is not this gods instrument. Lust causes call for more drones

Sponge, moisten  parched parted  lips

Raven signals the ire of its whips

The ones who don’t loose it in bedlam excite

Death.

Invites all loved ones to rally round

Stands by door. Stands back.Admires its ownpower.

A moment to savour for a while more.

Every door closed,  each breath cloys

Begs for enough fare to cross the distance to embrace elysium air.
Today everyone shall know how close we are to parting from brown soil

Lamb,hatched chickens,babies born in  Cumbersome air.

the cycle must  complete before we can emerge reborn

Death is inevitable  as necessary as life is to the Cumbaya

of springs first show of petal.

When you look at the beginning of this  new dawn

Know that when you stand back in awe

It is because you have felt the chill of winters soul depart

Shed a tear for the snowman who brought  our youth so much joy.

Appreciate death. Stare it in the face

The sun chants

 count in rosary beads

tomorrow never dies.

Trying to type something while listening and watching my  grandmother dying.

Rasp

Gasp

I support the assisted dying law.  This is inhumane.

A selfish farce.
Happy mothers day

Wherever  you go

Wherever  you roam

I hope that it is a place as magnificent as earths revellers make it out to be

Ma petition fripon. J’taime xxxx

* What I wrote waiting and comforting my ma and my gran before she passed over