PSST! Rantings, Musings, & "Not Your Mama's" Platitudes

Sorry, it’s been a quiet depressive day. I didn’t go for a walk today, which I feel guilty for. But tomorrow is a new day. I finally mixed up new bread dough for the next two weeks. It’s in the fridge and I will bake it tomorrow. I have plans to make more breakfast sandwiches for the next two weeks. I’ve been taking them for lunch at work. Quick and easy. I also have turkey for meatballs I hope to make tomorrow. I was going to do it all today but I couldn’t make my body move if my life depended on it. I finally mixed the dough in the dark because I couldn’t even bear to turn the light on. But I did it and that’s what counts. I painted for a little while this afternoon. I think it broke me from my trance just enough to get the dough mixed. Silly painting, colors, blobs, but something other than the vast nothingness brainscape.  I love everything bagel anything. I have the seasoning and use it on my crackers (I made some this morning—forgot about that). I hope you’re doing okay and t...

I imagine the clouds are a tsunami calculate which direction the wave might hit how long it would take to die I write wedding vows for my Uber driver tell my lover to have a good evening The nurse asks me to relax my arm before the stick she asks, again: let your arm hang like a noodle It is! I tell her Relax! she says my jaw tightens there is nowhere for the pain to go so it spreads thin, hardens through my chest releases into my gut contracts into a rhythm that floods every vessel He tells me good morning, asks how I slept okay , I say, how about you? I wait for his response like a farmer praying for rain fruit on the vine Eh , he says, you? Round and round we go  waiting for the rain or permission  to give it up to the sun

In the name of relevance, I text you first. Or is it hope, love. I already know what it is. I have the need to remind others of my existence, or I may fade into oblivion. My mother and I over-bake things. We are unable to let go. We hold until it sours. Did her mother keep too? My daughter takes photos of everything. She never wants to forget. I worry about being forgotten, not being met where I am. Where I am is apart from you. I wait for the skillet to warm before adding the pancake batter. I walk away to tend to the dishes. The blueberries burn. 

https://theurbanmermaid.blogspot.com/2024/09/question-air.html?m=1 This poem is written by my dear friend, Emily Lisker. 

“I hope this week stirs something deep within you. May the answers you couldn’t see before now rise to the surface like whispers of truth breaking through the fog of uncertainty, and may you find the courage and clarity to bring them to life, to nurture them with intention and let them guide your path forward. I hope your heart finds balance, not by the weight of who you’ve been or the stories that you’ve carried but by the truth of who you are becoming, the truth that anchors you in the present and propels you towards the future. I wish you strength, both in body and spirit and the resilience to weather the storms you may face. May you stand firm in your values, even when life pulls you in many directions. I wish you grace to remain present in the here and the now, even when the pull to drift away feels so very strong. I hope you are reminded of your inner strength, of the power within you that grows with every challenge you face. May you find peace knowing that the journey ahead is u...

I just learned that dragonflies lay their eggs in bodies of water. The larvae swim out of the lakes, ponds, streams where their eggs were laid and climb up a nearby tree trunk or limb where they latch on to unhatch into fully grown dragonflies. Somehow they know exactly what they need to do to survive, and they do it. They don’t wonder if it’s the right time to exit the water, if they will be eaten, if the weather will be right. It just happens. Maybe I need to let things happen and stop overthinking them to death. Or maybe that’s the problem. Maybe letting things happen is what has brought me here. Maybe more discipline, more thought is required. Maybe my brain will explode. Maybe all we can do is just keep going. 

I feel like I’m running a race toward the finish line but I get to the end and there is no finish line there is a teacup and a block of cheese and a screwdriver and suddenly my throat is filled with silt and I am blinded by gusts of confetti and all I hear is what were you thinking you knew better so I fall to my knees and search for the last time I was loved, truly loved and my mind races flips through files until it reaches the last one which contains only one page with one word written on it in black Sharpie: begin

Imagine you wake up with a second chance: The blue jay hawks his pretty wares and the oak still stands, spreading glorious shade. If you don’t look back, the future never happens.  How good to rise in sunlight, in the prodigal smell of biscuits— eggs and sausage on the grill.  The whole sky is yours to write on, blown open  to a blank page. Come on, shake a leg! You’ll never know who’s down there, frying those eggs, if you don’t get up and see. 

It was a long week. I’m exhausted. I’m sad. I’m trying to learn how to be casual, not too deep. Trying to fit where others want me. I give so much that I leave myself empty. And that’s not me. We do stupid things for love. Sometimes I wonder if I am incapable of it. If I am so full of anger and regret and pain. I’m good at pretending, but when the sun sets and the curtains are closed, I am left with what is real. What is tangible. What is within me. And I don’t want to see it anymore. It conflicts with the entire world around me. I am stuck between living the most elaborate lie ever told and being utterly alone in this world. I am so tired. 

On Sunday I had a great urge to be outdoors. It was September 1st, and I think subconsciously my entire body KNEW it was Autumn. I really don't know when the first day of autumn actually is, but I do know my body and brain are ready. Six or seven years back, I went through a hiking phase. I visited as many waterfalls and hiking trails as physically possible on the weekends. I visited places here, in SC, drove to GA, NC, and TN, sometimes leaving as early as 3am to drive 5 hours or more to hike 12-13 miles. I was physically fit and strong and felt like I could do absolutely anything. I think part of me wants those same feelings now, in a different time and space than I was those years ago. So I got in the car and drove toward the mountains. I wanted to see Wildcat Wayside Falls—I knew it was easily accessible and wouldn't require strenuous exertion. I needed to build myself back up to it. I passed the roadside entrance and continued up the mountain, following GPS. I knew GPS was...

My mind has been disheveled over the past couple of months, anticipating and learning to adjust for my daughter’s big move. She left for college a little over two weeks ago, nearly 700 miles away. I have been worried sick, physically and mentally. She has been busy acclimating and doing her own thing. I’ve called her every couple of days, but she doesn’t always answer. I know she is busy—college life is a whole new world! Today she sent a text asking me to call her when I finished at work. I called as I walked out the door, and she was sobbing. She spilled everything she has been dealing with over the past two weeks, and I was absolutely overcome with peace knowing she felt comfortable enough to share with me. We talked and laughed and cried and talked about life and how nothing ever stops and she kept saying, “I need to think of what else to talk about!” She shared roommate drama and intimidating professors and her very own snack box beside her bed, reminiscent of Jessica Day’s bedsid...

One thing I like about myself is that, no matter how dark my mood gets, no matter how bad circumstances get, hope always crawls into the picture. I’m not sure if this is a survival thing or a soul thing. I just know, despite past patterns and circumstances, at the end of the day, I have this tiny spark of hope left.  Yesterday, I was left reeling in anger over a person who I let into my life. I revealed too much about myself, and they twisted things around to use against me. It angers me to my core. I am full of rage and hate. And I feel like a fool. I allowed myself anger yesterday and today, and I hope I can let it go and start fresh tomorrow. However, if I have learned anything, it is that rage and anger, although they play a very important role in our “security settings,” are also unable to be sped through. There is no shortcut. They must be felt in all of their entirety for as long as the course exists. When I feel my space, energy, physical being has been violated, anger is q...

 As I enter this new week ahead, I am forced to confront many huge feelings I have shoved behind closets and pantries and attics in my mind. My daughter, the one person who I have lived with longer than anyone, apart from my parents, is graduating from high school. For me, Motherhood has consisted of a consistent track full of Worry Obstacles. Anyone who knows me at all knows that worry has been my affliction in this life. My mother's mother was the same. Perhaps it's genetic. Maybe it is a combination of my childhood and location and personality. I have spent the past 17 years of my life in a constant state of worry. Because of this, I have had to teach myself how to be intentional with my time and presence. I have had to force joy. I have had to stop myself countless times only to say, "This. This is a GOOD thing." I've had to condition myself to notice the good. Condition is a funny word. I've conditioned myself for as long as I can remember, and it still d...