day 5- on intrusive thoughts

it's interesting that i posted this to my personal Facebook page this morning;

i don't know, guys. i'm gonna keep doing what i'm doing, but i'm really struggling with pretty much everything. the blogging group, while SO incredibly supportive, is kind of freaking me out. and i don't know if it's sharing my own stuff with them and feeling the need to answer each comment made to my blog, or the reading (and absorbing the energies) of their 'stuff', or the having to comment on three blogs for my one share. or all of this. i've subscribed to a couple of the blogs that i found interesting so can continue the relationships there, but thinking i need to back up from sharing in the group and reading and commenting, unless something catches my eye. i need to take care of me and my mental health as much as i can in these rough months.

because i feel it sums up todays prompt nicely...

TODAY’S NUDGE: What is something you struggle with? What battles are you fighting that most people know nothing about? What’s something about you or your life that makes you feel weird, or different, or isolated?

i always call myself 'a delicate flower'.  usually to hubby, in jest (or not) when i'm in the middle of some sensitivity i'm having at the moment.  medicines hit me immediately and hard, i get all the side effects, and then some.  i'm scared of my own shadow it seems.  i pick up others energies and absorb them as they are my own.  i hurt for people i don't know, and must keep the tv off for that reason.  and i'm literally allergic to the cold, which kind of sucks, living in new england.  have i mentioned i'm sensitive?

i've always been emotionally sensitive, since i can remember, but things exploded when my son, winter-orion, and a friend drown in a river at the age of 14.  winter had lived with his father for 4 years before and i saw him every other weekend.  i got the call an hour after he went under, saying they were looking for his body.  time stood still as i found a ride to his town and the location of his accident, and, to make this story shorter, they found his body the next day.  

winter-orion, months before he died, at his confirmation

this was 19 years ago.  i've been without my oldest son for 19 years.  it's such a big part of me, this hole in my chest, that i'm surprised it's not noticeable when people meet me.  i'm good at camouflaging my wounds as most people get to be when they've lived with a disfiguring ailment.  we get good with the makeup that mask the scars, we wear clothes that hide the medical devices attached, or use an artificial limb that most don't notice as they go on their merry lives.  we wear smiles, and now some of them are real, and some of them we use to make sure others are not made uncomfortable.

the back of his headstone,

a poem written by one of his friends

the symbol on top drawn by himself (his initials with a chess pawn)

you see, when there has been a loss, and it gets to be more than a few months after said loss, people are counting on you to get your act together.  to come back to them and be 'normal' again.  but what is normal after this?  each day is a day longer that i have not seen my child alive.  each year is a year that i don't know what he might have been doing with his life.  he wasn't awarded a year 15, a year 21, a year 30.  his younger brothers and sister are now older than he was at his oldest.  his niece and nephew will be his 'forever age' in just a few years.  

and the triggers are everywhere.  i am constantly on guard for the sound of helicopters, as they were used to search for my son and his friend.  my heart races when i even think i hear one.  september rolls around and i am in a stew about the coming months of winter weather.   the memories of being a pregnant teen, laboring and giving birth on a thanksgiving evening.  the song 'walking in a winter wonderland' used to make me cry and now pisses me off as it's used constantly from october (it seems to be getting earlier these days) until the stores decide to knock off the christmas tunes.  songs from metallica remind me of his wake, of his life, of his death, and make me tear up.  skateboarders make me sad and proud to have been a skateboard mom.  each time we have a family gathering with 'all' our kids there is a gaping hole.

what used to be is now a memory

so, yes, i'm isolated by my fears and my grief.  i won't get over that.  how could i?  why would i want to 'get over' his death?  even after 19 years.    i'm doing much better than i was in the beginning, of course, and i continue to work at life in my own way, in my own time.  but, the not thinking about winter during these times, the not tearing up at the thought of him?  i doubt that will ever happen.  until i see winter at heavens gate.



this is a month long blog challenge created by my dear artist friend, effy wild.  i am using her prompts, but will state if a topic is my own.  i hope this will get me writing about what makes me tick and better my life while getting things out in the open and off my chest.

until later,
jenny

blog along day 2- what do i really want?

this is a month long blog challenge created by my dear artist friend, effy wild.  i am using her prompts, but will state if a topic is my own.  i hope this will get me writing about what makes me tick and better my life while getting things out in the open and off my chest.



what do i really want?  this is a very big question.  would it be a big question for you?  i've been stewing over this question for most of my life, actually.

it all comes down to "what would make me happy", doesn't it?  and i don't know the answer to that.  for someone with a heap of anxiety, to want something different is to invite change, and change is a scary thing.  what if i choose the wrong thing and i'm stuck with this choice?  and now i'm over thinking this question, so i'll dive right in.  time to have fun and be greedy.

what do i really want?

i want to make art.  i want to make beautiful paintings and help people to smile and think and i want to spread love and joy and peace thru my art.

i want to make some money with my art.  without guilt.  i want to bring in enough money to cover my materials and then some more.  i want to get paid for my time and my work, because it is work.  i want to help mark by bringing in some green, so he doesn't have to worry about all the bills PLUS buying my canvasses and paint and online classes.  i want to help my sweet man and don't want to feel like we are struggling while he works so hard.

i want to move to a warmer and drier climate for my health.  i've got cold urticaria which means i'm literally allergic to cold.   i don't want to freeze my toes off half of the year, but i want to be able to visit my family who lives where we do now.  i'm already too cold in the house and started itching in a different area than normal during our walk yesterday morning when the temp was about 50 degrees.  that means it's getting worse.  i just want to be warm and be able to go for walks like 'normal' people are still doing.

i want to be able to travel the world.  or at least the united states.  why was i put on this beautiful planet if i am not allowed to see it?  i've got an itch to see the beauty that is this amazing, magical marble in space.  i want adventure and new experiences.  hubby and i now have a national park passport book that i'd like to fill with date stamps and memories with my sweet man.

i want to fit in.  i want to feel accepted and valued as i am.

i want a tribe that i can go to, in real life, that talks and listens and dances and plays and laughs and cries together.  i want these people to be my family, baking bread and loving on each others children, grandchildren, and animals as their own.

i want to be strong.  in body, spirit, and mind.  i think the art helps with this.  it is getting me out of my comfort zone, talking to people, getting me out of my bubble of safety.  i think the writing will help make my thoughts more clear, so i can figure out what i really want.

until later,
jenny

Faith canvas, finished!

well, i signed her this afternoon.  she may decide she wants a few more finishing touches, but today she only whispered a few little things.

here she is, Faith;

my hubby likes her, "even the LED lights in her cloak".  silly man.

i really like her but wish my glaze didn't make her all shiny.  it creates glare and you can't see all her details as well as i wish.  

i worked on her eyes a bit more, and put some contrasting eyeshadow on her.  i made the dots on her face a different color, fixed an area of her neck that bothered me, and darkened parts of her cloak.

here is her earlier incarnation;

hubby went to the flea market this morning alone and found an amazing art treasure!

he wasn't sure of the products but knew i love the golden brand, so took a photo for me and mentioned it was mostly airbrush medium.  i told him YES.  these were items i wanted to play with in a brand that is the best.  i'm so excited to thin my acrylics to a drippy consistency without making the paint unstable which is what happens with water.  there were several happy surprises in there, and i was giddy with excitement when i opened the box and dived in.  he just saved himself some big money for me to experiment!

i can't walk outside when it's too cold out as i am allergic to the cold and break out into itchy hives, so i joked with mark before flea market season began that if he went without me that he must 'bring back trinkets to appease his goddess".  he has done well this outing!

until later,

jenny