Goddesses- 1/4/2020
an acrostic poem
Gothic
Orthodox
Dimensional
Desire
Eros
Spiritual
Sacred.
Category Archives: mother-in-laws
thinking too much
thinking too much…
12/31/14
thinking too much…
about all this crap & such.
i’ve been walking the highwire
for quite a while
and i’ve been struggling to deal
with things
and wounds
and people
who never heal.
everytime i try
to reach out & ask for help
people look at me like
i am way beyond crazy.
as if i were not living in
an ultra stressful situation
with my own sanity
constantly in question?
i don’t even know
how many ways
i’ve attempted or even tried
to say:
this is far too much for me
to handle
this is far too much for US
to handle
this is far too much for your brother
to handle…
you take it for granted
that we will always take care
of her for You.
But what if I can’t?
What if I told you, it’s straining our marriage,
its too much to deal with
She is constantly on the offensive
I feel like I am always under attack.
Her constant complaining.
Her constant screaming, cursing and yelling.
Her never-ending depressions.
I have a Serious Mental Illness.
Christ-if you cannot deal with her,
with the hell makes You think?!
that I can??
I feel like trying to cut my wrists.
To bleed a bit.
Just to alleviate-all this pain.
i feel like i am losing my mind.
i feel like i am clearly insane.
i feel like you do not give a
damn.
How long do you expect us-
to deal with all this
Mother stuff?
When do I get what you have?
A peaceful house alone with my husband-
why is that impossible for you to
understand?
thinking too much…
about all this crap & such.
i’ve been walking the highwire
for quite a while
and i’ve been struggling to deal
with things
and wounds
and people
who never heal.
Relaxing with music-all alone again….
Relaxing with music,
the Singer-songwriter M.Ward,
sings sweetly in my background.
My mother in law is at a doctors appointment.
My husband has left to go watch the latest
Superman movie-then he has a therapy appointment.
I’m all alone, at home again.
It’s peaceful. Despite a few stray teardrops,
which escape me.
Mood wise-slide sideways,
between sad and joy…
relief at being simply more of myself,
again.
More in control.
Heads still somewhat cloudy-
but feet are nailed safely/to the ground.
Every-time, I have another
manic-depressive episode,
it feels as though both my body and brain-
have betrayed me yet again.
They have turned me inside out/
into somebody insane…
just the name of this
illness game.
There is nothing I can really do
except my best,
to avoid these times/
of madness, at the slip of a dime.
I take my medicine as prescribed.
I never miss my doctor sessions.
I try to get enough sleep.
I try to not freak out.
Despite the hurdle of Everything/
I occasionally still/
completely lose my mind.
It always feels as though-
I have betrayed myself somehow…
My episodes the last two years, strictly on my meds,
have been smaller & shorter,
no real damage has been done.
I should feel happy,
as if I’ve won.
But instead I am sadden by the way,
I become undone.
Like a sweater with one button popping loose,
as if by random chance.
I know of others with my disease,
have fewer times of the in-between.
Fewer times of the semi-normalcy, stable state.
I know I am blessed and lucky.
At least my medicines control
my CRAZY, from time to time…
Nobody’s perfect all the time.
We all have our flaws.
It just sucks that history tends to;
repeat itself in my general direction.
I am caught in the constant cobweb
of being CRAZY.
I run away from home TIME AND TIME AGAIN…
Just like the first time, way back in the summer,
of 1992.
I’m a song stuck on repeat.
A dance number without a beat.
Filled with sadness & joy, all at once,
a walking contradiction
allowing & swallowing the impossible
courage & fear of being
plain old ME.
Tears fill my eyes leaking out at the corners…
Tears fill my eyes, leaking out at the corners…
is the love i thought i knew,
the love i thought i had with you.
Did you ever really love me?
Are you even capable of that?
now, that i have escaped both your grasp,
and your liars heart…
i can listen to my inner voice inside
my head, warning me that you
are a very dangerous man indeed.
warning me to not fall for the pity-trap.
to close my ears while you say,please.please.please.
Listen, i will change.
and I guess in all this time;
to your credit, you did change
except its for the worst.
How did i fall for this?
Was i really so desperate,
for anybody to love me-that
i settled for you???
Somebody who loves to love,
and somebody who hates that which
he loves, as a vicious abusive-controlling
mind game.
it hurts me deeply-
to realize now after 13 years,
i never knew the real you.
it was all stage lightening and fake drama.
you were always an actor,
playing a part,
yet also a wolf lunging for my heart.
You could paint a nice story
with words alone. My family adored you.
But they were without all the facts.
And i was too scared to tell them on you.
the emotional, mental abuse was more often
then the physical stuff.
Despite my Daddy telling me, “Do not ever let a man put his arms on you in anger.”
“Don’t ever let a man hit you.”
Despite these facts-i choose only to see your halo.
The one i gave to you.
If only i would have stared harder-
i would have seen it as broken, rusty
an obtusity.
the hidden truth
the hidden truth,
is that which haunts me…
everybody thought we were the perfect happy couple…
and I? how could I explain to our friends-our loved ones-
about The Dark Times….
about the hidden Truth?
That i married a classic-type of abuser.
That my beloved husband,
who i “loved” dearly was not only less than ideal,
but i was paranoid fearful of his anger. Of his angry outbursts.
That frequently, i felt unsafe, even during lovemaking.
I was scared he may attempt to kill me.
And i do not know why.
the fear seemed irrational, like another delusion of my bipolar mind.
Until a day two weeks ago where he admitted to “fantasies”?? I’m not sure what you would call then,”ideas” or “plans”?
That if his life ever got bad enough, he would fall back on the notion
of a murder-suicide.
by the way by murder-he meant me specifically and suicide
i guess was for him-not only was this a horrifying thing to say to the one woman who loves you-
it also helped me reach the realization, i was in constant danger.
I’ve been hiding out at a battered woman’s shelter.
i finally feel safe again.
it took some skill even in getting here because i had no money and no car.
but i finally made it Saturday afternoon.
I blame myself for not leaving sooner.
but in oh-too-many ways it was easier to stay.
i am grateful now, for my infertility issues.
that saves me from a lifetime of interaction
with a husband who is crazy.
I am so very devastated-that it had to-end this way,
but it was only getting worse. Now i am facing loved ones with the Hidden Truth.
they do not understand how hard it is to admit….you are a victim.
that somebody scares you half to death.
that this man you “loved” is merely a shadow of his true self,
the side made up of complete anger and irrational darkness.
It’s offical: Today really sucked….:(
I spent at least 2 hrs today bickring and fighting with my husband. We very rarely argue, perhaps not the best thing to rarely argue-hostilities do seem to build up-then boom!!!
He accused me of being bitchy today-no argument there-i knew i had been and was-still kind of am-in a wicked evil mood. I’m not sure if its pms or something else…i took all my meds as prescribed. I was just really angry today. That is very rare.
After we made up- he asked if we could pretend today never happened? it was a sweet thought but i had to say no. I tried to explain that there are real issues despite if we discuss or fight about them or not.
even unspoken, the issues are still there….a lot of family drama issues.
I wish that we lived on our own and did not have to take care of his mom. She is not always that pleasant to live with-yet i have been living here wit her for 13 years. I knew 2 years ago when we tied the knot, i knew what i was in for. I did not expect it to change really, but i wish it would…
Sometimes, i resent it. I am the one home alone with her most of the days.
I’m the one to deal with all her dramas and ailments and stressors…
I’m a mentally ill person my own self, sometimes it is really tough helping somebody else-who does not even want help much of the time.
I’m not sure hubby realizes how stressful this is on my bipolar disorder recovery process. I tried to talk to him….to explain and there it was again-the ever hostile defensive mamas boy additude.
I would never ask him to choose between us. That would be very wrong in my opinion. But sometimes,I wish she lived in her own apartment. Sometimes, i wish it were just me and him. I feel awful but i do not always feel like i can handle all her challenges.
Free Promo on Kindle
Starting today you can download the kindle copy of the book I recently published called,” Butterfly-Rimmed Eyeglasses and the Trouble with Tuesday.” by (me) Emily Sturgill. It contains poetry,prose, artwork and one or two short stories.
Here is a link: http://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-eyeglasses-Trouble-Tuesday-ebook/dp/B00BMSC15G/ref=la_B00B1GC5LY_1_11?ie=UTF8&qid=1364825565&sr=1-11
click on the link then click on buy kindle version, it should show up at 0.00$, and if you like it, would you consider reviewing it for me on amazon.com? I think you can review it on my Authors page which is :www.amazon.com/author/emilysturgill
superstitions abound
superstition’s abound
they surround me.
i have a half-crazy mother-in-law,
with whom i live.
i adore her-despite the fact –
she makes me crazy sometimes,
but that’s what mother-in-laws
were meant for, since the beginning of all time.
Anyways, she is full of old-wives tales,
and superstitions. One of which is,
if your palms are itchy,
you will soon receive/come-into/or find/money.
Another is if the bottoms,
of your feet itch,
you will soon walk on “strange land.”
by this she means you will
go somewhere you have never been before.
Today my palm on my right hand,
is itching like crazy-
I’m not sure, if i believe, these things,
but i texted my husband, that tonight,
we should play the lottery.
better safe than sorry.
superstitions got a hold of me-
superstitions abound.
The ancient tribe of “crazy-makers”
The tribe is ancient, cursed, and damned. They are the ones in your life who ask for your advice but never take it. They are the people who always complain but refuse to change or modify their behaviors or approaches to Life. They are the ones who never “bounce” back. They are the ones who never “lose” a fight, because they are “right” about everything. They are the people in our life we can never make happy for longer than 5 minutes-20 min max at a time. This tribe can never be honest with themselves because nothing is ever their fault, it has to be somebody else’s fault or problem. They are always blameless innocent victims and the mean cruel world is simply out to get em.(and don’t you dare mention paranoia, because of course they are but they are too paranoid to admit they are paranoid.) This tribe of folks love to be the center of attention. If they are not the center of attention they will quickly turn the tables to make it all about them. They are selfish but blindly so. They do not really realize the damage they put their loved ones through. Now that I am often relatively stable with my bipolar meds keeping my tidal waves calm, i can spot the crazy-makers from farther away. I think when i am sick, manic, hypo-manic, depressed ect. i actually belong to this tribe. But when my medicine is working i can spot the other “crazy-makers” and try to not fall into their alluring layers of shiny quick-sand. What it boils down to is they do not want help or even advice, what they want is to complain. And they want to make sure you are just as miserable as they are. They will not give up until everybody’s equally unhappy. Do not for for this entrapment. Just nod your head like you are listening and count to like 20-120 whatever. Then smile sadly and walk away. Shrug you helpless shoulders if necessary-do not encourage or engage a crazy-maker. Just get away someone safe out of their complaining arena.Then do something fun, enriching or rewarding to got the crazy-maker off your mind. Always remember you cannot “fix” the crazy-maker. They do not even believe they are broken.
