Thursday, December 31, 2015

the reason

Guess I should talk about why there was a gap of 16.8 years between wills. 

Simple really.


He brought safety, security and a home into my life. Depression is a easier thing to live with if you have loving arms to hold you.

oh and its my move. E4.

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

I think it's time again Will.

It's been a while.

Quite a stretch in fact. I thinks its been at least 16.8 years.

I think its time I write my will again.

was in a dark place the last time I wrote one. Similar spot this time too. Too darn familiar. Soul sucking, spirit shattering damp dark end of the rope familiar.

My life feels like its ran out.

Not coasting to a quiet stop. No. Nothing that simple or easy. More along the lines of the brakes have failed and I am careening down a hill, being tossed around unmercifully. The windows shattering are barely drowning out the last of my will to go on being smothered.

I am dissociated to a point I'm not even in my body any more.

in my life time, I have written so many wills I can literally bind them into an impressive book.

Sad thing is, I really have nothing to leave anyone.

The only thing I have of any value, is my self. Even that is quite a dented swollen can, best to be thrown away.

I will take all the bad with me when I die. Leaving behind cryptic stories written in my youth. Half finished drawings and unchased dreams. A box of old battered mementoes of another time. Talismans that will mean nothing to anyone.  There magical powers all used up by the girl in me.

I will leave the good though, when I die. My children, my husband.

My writing.

total shame I can't put my most impressive writings on my blog.

Just yet.

I'm working on getting them typed in. They will sit like frozen corpses in the draft queue until my death, or until I don't care anymore and find the guts to press the publish button.  Before I kill my self I will leave the log in to GTBO to someone with instructions to go in and push publish on them all.

Or I will do that as the last of my life spills out.

I am really suicidal. Not the usual kind though. This head space is numb, with a hit of paranoia drifting in and out.

Usually I can see the road ahead. Can't right now. I'm at the end of the film and the its spit out and flapping around the projector.

Makes me want to jump off high buildings.

Get in my truck and drive away.

Handling it right now.

DUDE YOUR TYPING A WILL, YOU'RE NOT HANDLING IT.

True.

yes, oh yes this will end in a burn. Better a pound of flesh then my life, eh?

This is my last will and testament - voiding all the thousands of others you will find.

My therapy journals - I leave to who ever wants to read page after page of vomitus pain. Good luck rescuing her. I tried and failed. *Spoiler alert* - they all die in the end.

The meteorite dagger goes to sister #2, only she has the power to wield it.

To my children I leave what piddly possessions I have not given away or tossed by the time I die. I will give you a hint...look closely at them, as people age they discard things.  Only the truly important things will be kept. What survived defines me.

To sister #3 I leave the wooden box Daddy made me.

To sister #1...what the hell can I give you? what do I possess that you would want? in fact what do I possess that ANYONE would want.

A few tangible things that gather dust, anything I value I owned I have sold off to pay our son's hospital bill.

The only thing of value I have is...my time and presence.

Damn it. Yes in deed its time to discuss my will again.

The will to go one.

It gets hard some times when the pain is crippling and unrelenting. When the depression is singing the lullaby of smoothing calmness and the ability to wake to no pain.

In the mist of all that there are small things that anchor me here.

"mama, I want you to hang around, my children will want to meet there grandma."

"Yes I want you to come home. I need you, I want you, I love you."

"Can you make mash potatoes for dinner?"

To everyone I leave you all: me.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

see it as a gift, young one

Young one.


You come from a long line of amazing women.


Beautiful, forever young ones


wild,

and

Free souls...

who gravity can't anchor....


Who know they are out of sync, and

have always looked so good in capes.

Women who knew who they were and didn't let others force them to conform.

Broody, mysterious women who drive those who love us nuts, because they can be with us, but not really have us...





We are warrior women.  Strong and brave.


Darling, ride every horse you meet.




Every ledge you come upon, leap knowing that the sky will embrace you and the ground will catch you.


We are part centaur...this wild blood still courses through our veins, your heart will naturally beat in the primordial four hoof beat rhythm.  


You come from circus folk, you have sawdust in your shoes, you will always dream big.

let no one keep you from chasing them all.

Be near water where ever you go. We descend from fisherwomen, mermaids and sirens.







So in tune with our world we are, we sometimes feel things before they happen.


It's just how it for us.  Others will not get this. If you try to tell them you too will get branded a witch, and your life will be made hell. Your sons will not inherit this, only your daughters.


Never be afraid. You will face obstacles that will seem unsurmountable.  know you come from women who have faced crushing life events and came out stronger and still able to smile.





When life gets rough, dig in and fight. Know your from sturdy stock that can do anything.

Be alive, young one. Interact with your world. Explore it all. We were blessed with one heck of an imagination. Never loose it.




Your never going to fit in. We are made from ancient stock. We are the type of women men went to war over. The kind who toppled dynasties.




know how beautiful you are...let no one rob you of your beauty.

Find  people who love you, and aren't afraid of the enormous complexity of your soul. Ones who will gently support you when the magnitude of you mind crushes the fragileness of your soul in it endless war within.


Know there will be times you will be alone. Use that time to explore the depths of your mind and all the great mysteries that lay within it.

Be friends with who ever you want. Sometimes stuffing is stronger then blood. 


The world may not get you at first. Don't worry about it. It's their problem. Be who you are. Accept you are an original. know you are not alone, no matter how you feel. Little one, its just that you are so far ahead of the others blazing the trail that it just seems you are alone. You will find your place...or you will make your place.


The only one who needs to "get you" is you.

Those who don't get you are missing an amazing soul, a sparkly ice cover comet arching through the night sky. It's their loss. Don't waste one second on trying to be who they want you to be.

See your uniqueness as a gift. One passed down through the generations. It was given to me, and


I gave it to you.


Your going to stand out. Your different.


Don't fear the journey. Embrace the adventure.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

snooze button

Why does it feel like I am being disconnected from life support
when the alarm clock calls me back from dream land?