Karaoke and Other Coping Cliches

Be careful who you dismiss as “shallow” or “not serious enough.”

Some people have been so subtracted from, they’re not just empty, they’re minus.

Fleeting happiness is welcomed as a distraction, but the change in direction can cause emotional whiplash; a disorder known for releasing peals of startled laughter, often transforming the source of the laughter into an obsession. Or an addiction.

These people are so acclimated to chronic anguish, they’re easily amused.

My point? Simply to “not judge a book by its cover.” Or even better: “Don’t dismiss someone as a ‘novella’ until you’ve read her unabridged story.”

SO DIRTY

The way I look at it, Life double-fucked me.

It first fucked me in Childhood by preventing me from developing healthy coping skills (parents didn’t fret over their kids’ feelings too much back then).

I was DOUBLE-fucked because I needed those coping skills to weather the unspeakable horrors and tragedies Adulthood had in store for me.

Some time after aged 30, during 15 years of 15 major surgeries and Plenty Of Other Crap, I began coping the only way that worked for me: chemically.

I found I needed pain and anxiety medication to get through the day. Both ANY DAY and EVERY DAY.

Truth.

This always serves as the Official Reason People Who Gave Up On Me give for Giving Up On Me. I honestly don’t think I was that bad, but I wasn’t around for most of it. I was too numb.

Yet, with no Outer Pressure and DESPITE having minimal coping skills and a practically-nonexistent support system, I threw a giant cosmic wrench at myself. For no reason whatsoever, I chose to resort to my Chemical Coping Skills ONLY when they were desperately needed. Which is practically never, much to my own shock!

This choice has delivered me to Emergency Rooms on numerous occasions, certain I was in the middle of a stroke or heart attack, so great is my pain, anxiety, and nausea from both.

Remarkably almost-sober (don’t take my cannabis away from me; it helps with the nausea!), my thoughts often scare the ever-living shit out of me.

I personally find this ridiculous journey upon which I have embarked an extremely courageous one all the same.

I now Actively Disappoint rather than just Passively. Maybe you have to have been on a Similar Journey to understand what this means, but I think it means “I’m proud of myself❣️”

So Folks Who Want To Vilify Me: Stand in Line.

The person suspiciously ABSENT from that line will be ME.

OH, GROW UP!!

Speaking More of ME Than You of YOU
Means I Listen NOT to You??!!
Other folks must offer up
Details of the Life they Love,
Describe the Humans they’ve become
And tell us What We Need to Know.

Forgive me that not Coaxing, Cajoling, Extracting
From your Passive Corpse until Removed
Words you Yearn to Vocalize
But UnBravely Do Not Do
A sign NO TALKING SKILLS have You!

Won’t suffer Cowards, fools, or Grownup Toddlers,
So One Day if you should Raise Yourself,
Please reach out and freely call.
Should you Stay so Infantile?
Don’t bother calling Me at all.


(Thanks for the photo, @sociallover_art )

I’m a FABULOUS Mother!

Ever since I moved on 12/31, I’ve fallen behind on my dog’s [expensive] monthly grooming appointments. By late April, I can’t conceal the fact that he is positively filthy! I am too, for that matter.

But I do think his skin condition has improved (aside from the mats and ear mites). And he’s lost some weight.

He’s actually HAPPY to get the processed doggie SPAM-and-Veggie loaf I feed him!! No food boycotts anymore! I guess when I’m the Mom, you take your meals when you can. Bathroom breaks, too.

We don’t do much spoiling around Chez Me (unless it’s me getting spoiled).

Like I said: I’m a FABULOUS MOTHER ❣️

The Grime


The grime is millimeters high,
Visible to the naked eye,
Certainly scent-able to the human nose.
It’s available in a riot of disgust like cesspool brown, cadaver gray, charred death black, and chunky puke green.
Good luck getting rid of it once it’s found you!
Seriously, I’m not laughing. Well, maybe a little bit, but it’s benevolent and companionable.
Unlike The Grime.
It’s okay, we all know how to inhale dirt;
We’ll teach you.
I promise it won’t always hurt this much.
It only hurts because you’re still so clean.
Soon you’ll be as filthy as the rest of us,
Wallowing in it
Once Twice Thrice
Before rolling over to Invite it
Into your mouth.

God as a Parent

Sometimes I feel like the God of the Bible is one of THOSE parents. You know them. Every time there’s something you desperately want or want to do, their immediate answer is a swift “No.” They don’t even consider the details. When you ask why not, they reply with an annoying “Because I said so!”

Examples:

•Can I have sex with this cute guy? No. Why? Because I said so.
•Can I have sex with myself then? No. Why? Because I said so.
•Can I at least THINK about sex? No…said so.
•What about lobster for dinner? Nope. Same reason.
•A single shrimp? [Eye roll]

Every parent uses that answer sometimes and deservedly so. But frankly, it’s a cop out for when there isn’t time for a more considered response. My biggest concern is for the families where parenting has been distilled down to this exchange, repeated over and over again. They often produce young people who either 1) quit inquiring or 2) quit thinking for themselves.

I should know.

Still Not Perfect:


In 40 years you gave me 3 (clipped) compliments and at least 300 (detailed) criticisms.

All to build MY character.

Had we spent more time together, surely you would have “improved” me to death.

So…

You’ll forgive me if I never felt loved.

[“Like” was so far out of reach, I never even conceived it]

Mostly I raced and chased after your constantly climbing targets until I collapsed – empty, emaciated, and starving.

Your meager love gave out early. It never provided nourishment anyway.

What a waste of your precious time because I’m still wretched ME! All efforts to carve me into YOU failed.

No doubt you’re sad about that. I’m sad too because:

I DON’T [think I] MISS YOU ANYMORE.

Go ahead and hate me.

<Same shit, different day>

Jennifer Is:

A. Clever, charming, charismatic, playful-but-deep, beautiful, intelligent, magnetic, and extremely generous.

B. Emotionally desperate, physically-ravaged, profoundly traumatized, mentally unstable, financially ruined, damaged beyond repair, fatally flawed, and utterly irredeemable. Also: she brags about herself (see A, above).

C. Who really cares about B, anyway?

Pain in My Eyes

Seeking but can’t find
I’ve lost my very mind
Feeling crazy rise
From darkness deep inside
Can’t fake my favorite lie
That never do I cry
Pain always in my eyes
My salted tears belie
The truth I can’t deny:
I often want to die
Cut these cloying ties
Whisper my goodbyes
Leave you all behind
Finally free to fly
Weightless, I’ll soar high
A new star in the sky
Forever burning bright

Why Did You Leave?

I love you.

I’ve never loved anyone this much.

I can’t live without you.

What did you say?

I can’t believe you said that to me.

What’s wrong with you?

You must not be the person I thought you were.

In fact, I can’t stand the sight of you.

Get the fuck out and never come back!!

I don’t ever want to lay eyes on you again.

——————————————-

Why did you abandon me?

Teenagers‼️

Why does my heart bleed for teenagers when I never had any of my own? I try to give them (probably misguided) advice – see my reply to a young girl’s comment. I know: wisdom from the woman known as Karaoke Konnection on YouTube. It’s laughable.

Then, please tell me if it’s misguided. Because I really need to know. It’s profoundly, remarkably, achingly important to me that my words never damage these young people. I want them to excel and to thrive and to keep Humanity alive!

More than anything…

Please Watch if You Love a Teenager

I’m 54, and I feel like you’re telling my story. I know it feels like your father has betrayed all of you (because he did) and everything that once seemed so certain now seems terribly uncertain. And you don’t even get to be mad because you’re being such a little adult, keeping up your end of the deal, while the adults are abandoning their roles as if they never existed in the first place. I’m so sorry that the pressure has fallen on you during this time. My only advice for all of you teenagers who are hurting now is:
Please never bury the real and unique you that burns inside. You know your dreams and your passions and your heart in a way no other person does. Your circumstances will change frequently throughout your life, but your essence, your personhood, won’t. Please don’t EVER bury yourselves so much in your efforts to make others happy that you extinguish the beautiful flame that burns in each one of you❣️

P.S. Tell your parents a lady older than them said so‼️

Never Have I Ever…

MILKED A COW

Seriously, do only female cows produce milk?

Yes.

Well, I don’t think your average woman knows that…it’s kind of a “need to know” bit of information that I don’t need to know.

Didn’t you grow up with cows? My grandparents had a farm where we milked cows.

Nope. They Texans? My grandparents were teachers and salesmen and housewives. 2 had college degrees and 2 didn’t. The ones who didn’t had two children who didn’t, one of whom was my mother.

My other grandparents were middle-class but educated, and my father was an only child. He grew up in Odessa, Texas and became a lawyer. So I’m an 8th generation Texan on both sides, including one generation of 12 full-lived siblings, and I don’t remember ever milking a cow.

We used to go out to the “ranch” to “count the cows,” but that’s because they were Burgers on Hooves (is that what they’re called?). Honestly, I think I know more about horses. And I don’t know much about them either.

For Debbie, My Therapist

August 2020

I get my head shrunk each week by woman named Debbie

She helps me to process my grief once I’m ready

Her empathy provides me with a safe place to land

I appreciate how she relates and always understands

Those thoughts that lead me down a path of despair

Always seem more powerful, out of reach in the air

We combat them with “mindfulness”, a tool I’ve just found

With it we lasso these fears to the ground

Once my pain’s in the room, we then can dissect

It from a distance that helps me reflect

On the hurts I have felt all through the years

And in the process I purge many tears

We use hip techniques like “E-M-D-R”

Other times she affirms me and treats me with warmth

I feel quite secure when I talk in her presence

She’s someone I trust with my thoughts most unpleasant

When we look back, we see choppy waters

The hurts from my past, both the grief and the bothers.

I know I have found the best-equipped guide

To help me to cope and bad thoughts exorcise

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo courtesy of Priscilla Du Preez. Thank you, Priscilla!

Things to Always Remember

Journal from July, 2021

• I’m gifted and can’t lose my gifts.

• I’m physically beautiful, period.

• I’m worthy because I’m human – full stop.

• When I’m being hard on myself, I need to cease and desist and start describing myself as a friend. I must be NICE to her!

• Leaves on a Stream for 5-10 minutes.

• Breathe in colors and textures and life and breathe out rapacious, enveloping darkness.

• Engage by: how my body feels, what I hear around me, what I see around me. Focusing on the here and now and what’s in front of me.

• Practice mindfully doing things: I must do things I don’t like in a mindful way, do things I DO like in a mindful way (focus without “psychological smog” hijacking my mind and leeching my life of color), and practice doing everyday tasks mindfully.

Please don’t think I’m vain, you guys! I’d hate to think anyone thought that. This is my therapy I give to myself. I thought perhaps my notes from – and individual additions to – a few tricks I learned from Audible’s “Confidence Gap” book might make you feel better, too❣️

The Upcoming Anniversary of My Father’s Death

Journal 10/26/2021

The first anniversary of my father’s death is in 6 days, on 10/31/21.

It feels like all of the anger, shock, outrage, and righteous indignation have run their course. And now I just want to cry for a month straight.

About what we both missed as children. No one ever “mirrored” his emotions during his stoic West Texas childhood: how would he ever know to mirror mine?

How could he know that by silencing me, I never told anyone what I was truly feeling or what was truly happening?

It doesn’t change the fact that he left me alone to process a suite of emotions too complex for a small child to process on her own.

As a result, the arbiter of my worth was transferred from Me (worth self-motivated) to Whomever I Was With (worth tied to external approval).

My chaotic childhood turned me into a chameleon I often feared was dead and bone dry on the inside. I would now call that kind of person a “cypher.” Unfortunately, my emptiness isn’t easily filled. Some have tried, but none have succeeded (or stayed, for that matter). They never stay. I wish my emptiness was filled by a plain old human being, but it feels endless sometimes.

I already feel like I’ve cried enough. Isn’t 500+ months of crying enough?

Well, isn’t it?

For once, I honestly don’t know how I feel inside.

Torn? Conflicted? No.

Spent.

But still begging to be set free. Promising I’ll never tell. Pleading for my life.

Little Girl: You have nothing to say. Quit crying or I’ll give you something to cry about. And while we’re at it: you’re the most hopelessly unathletic AND the most self-centered person I’ve ever known. Look how you start every sentence with the word ‘I’” [insert ubiquitous eye roll of contempt].

You know what? I changed my mind.

YOU GO AHEAD AND STAY DEAD, Sweet Daddy.

Please just STAY IN HELL!

I beg you to leave me alone for a year – just a year!!

Please, could I have one last year?

It’s ALL I want left in this life: One Last Year of Freedom from Your Voice Before I Die.

I don’t give a DAMN about your money! All I want is for you to…

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

To My 19 Followers:

Thank you for listening to the conversations I’ve suppressed since Always (if not Before).

“Speaking” them here is the most lightening and emotionally levitating exercise I’ve ever experienced.

Each conversation I suppress has a funny way of refusing to be silenced. At least on the inside. However, when I convert these esoteric thought vapors into fully carved words brimming with consonants and vowels, something truly magical and miraculous happens to me.

It doesn’t even matter if anyone reads what I have to say. What’s important is that I’ve finally said it. And what’s so beautiful about it all is these whispers I never really heard but felt suddenly stop feeling so painful. And guttural. And harsh.

In fact, something dislodges a little bit as these words start being forced to enter my Prefrontal Cortex [GPS coordinates unknown; excuse my lapse in exactitude.]

I just needed to get this down. Once I’ve explored whatever it is I need to address – using different characters and scenarios along the way – the insights solidify and then Oilá! They blaze, clear, continue to percolate, morph and glom onto other insights, potentially resulting in complete shift in my worldview (at the moment, anyway). Sometimes it takes awhile to reach every cell in my body.

But once truth reaches every cell in my body, my body starts to heal itself. On the inside, outside, and in the invisible parts. This feels like all kinds of things, sometimes all at once. It can be a supreme peace in my spiritual core or a firework display of emotion. It can mine the detritus of my past and return to me with scaled and hidden gems that merely require a little rock tumbling in order to sparkle.

Wearing my new jewelry and exorcising those suppressed words feels like the emotional equivalent of wearing my softest pair of pajamas all day.

It’s a lightness I haven’t felt in so long, I almost don’t recognize it anymore. Bottom line: my headspace is turning into a much nicer neighborhood!

Of course, I knew all of the truth and some of the answers all along. I just didn’t know that I knew it, and I didn’t know what I didn’t know (a la “Jocari’s Window” for my philosophers).

So thank you from the deepest place in my bloody heart. Again and Again. Simply for being here. 🌹🍎🩸❤️

P.S. The photo is in merciless hi-def, but you guys deserve the “good stuff” from my Hidden Archives❣️