Immaculate Heart of Darkness

Dear Readers, I have confessed to you my deepest, soulful hurts and hopes; yet, I am not done. There is more, so much more but you must know, it is daunting. I have consistently tried to spare no detail, no matter how shocking, no matter how personal, no matter the cost. It has been and remains a form of therapy for me.  I slice myself open, lay bleeding, let it all run out then I turn it over to you – to the universe – to take it from me, to find something useful from it or to know that maybe, just maybe you feel a little better knowing there is someone out there who keeps showing up. As of this day, May 10th, I am here.

Mother’s Day was and always is hard on me. My real family, a/k/a/ my girlfriends, sent me messages throughout the day. My kids made me breakfast in bed. My boyfriend even loaned me one of his kids so I could snuggle up with her as I went to sleep on Saturday, knowing my own offspring would not be arriving until the next morning.

I focused on the many blessings I have but it wasn’t enough to sustain the place of darkness that resides within my otherwise peaceful heart. My next series of posts are going to be a bit idiosyncratic. Peculiar for me. I hope you will allow me to indulge and wallow in it. I hope you will follow me to the dirtiest of places as I enter a new phase of grief. Actually, it’s not new; pretty sure I just conveniently skipped over it.
Anger.

I desperately want to express it to you in my usual verbose, four-chapter- novella style with a touch of humor to soften the jagged edges but I’m too twisted, too tormented to go there. Instead, I’m going to free flow. It’s not intended to be poetry.

It’s me, unfiltered, unedited and undone.

Zen Mama will be taking a break for a while.   In her place, you will be meeting Mad Mama. See photo to the right. 

Come with me as I swing wildly through the vines, screaming like the spider monkey I am.