Wordle #186

Week 178

Life assures me like cancer

that I am finite, farfetched,

suppressed as a simulacrum.

It’s not possible to think

about the present moment

when married to its vision.

Everything that exists,

exists on a continuum

of reflection and conjecture.

What was once transparent

is now rooted like granite

with splinters of chamomile

bursting free at the edges.

It only takes a thimbleful,

a single breath, a ray of light,

a drop of blood to get me going.

All humans are layogenic,

a sideways glance,

a bout of nostalgia,

a darkened room

with two sets of curious eyes

locked together in breathless limbo.

Once met you’ll discover me.

I’ll never give you what you want.

Worth is synonymous with depth.

My scars are carved, not painted

red and bold like lips on paper.

It’s the constant itching

that reminds me that I’m current.

Who would I be without

these disfigurements?

Never trust a smiling face,

it takes longer to heal

when the wound is uneven.

I am not autophobic just conscientious

I don’t want to be blinded by conceit,

to find myself adored

by a stranger with sticky hands

and a heart overflowing with forgiveness.

Love is permissive like a drug,

if I should ever taste it

I’ll forget to come up for air.

I must maintain my ego,

the cracks in my heart

where I keep my needle and thread.

A fairy must remain anonymous

if she is to conjure.

Who would I be without

this blessed and cursed veil?

I can smell the bleach on your skin,

the ritual cleansings

the fear that your hands

might communicate your true intent.

What you love most about me

has nothing to do with me at all.

tough one!




Sunday Writing Prompt #243 “Core Beliefs”

Core Beliefs

It’s all my fault.

A few days ago our sofa was delivered. Sam scrambled to find the bungee cord we use to tie open the front door so that the wind wouldn’t blow it closed when he and the deliveryman were carrying it inside. He couldn’t find it. My first thought “Oh my god what have I done?!” Sam wasn’t angry with me. He adapted to the situation and nothing was said about the missing item but I was instantly imagining scenarios where I might have misplaced the bungee cord or worst case scenario thrown it away. The next day I looked all over for it, trying to think where I might have put it. I remembered thinking how annoying the bungee cord was and how it often fell or got tangled on items hanging on the coat rack. More than once I have thought about moving it but I remembered deciding against it because we keep it by the front door for a reason. Still I went on doubting myself because I have Dissociative Disorder so it is always possible I have done something without remembering. Sam was going to the store to pick up storage boxes that day and I admitted to him that I could not find the cord. His response “I think I used the cord to tie down the tarp on the grill.” He didn’t realize it had been bothering me. At no point had he been angry about it or even suspicious, he’d simply forgotten where it was in the heat of the moment. I blamed myself though. With Dissociative Disorder comes severe memory issues. I don’t trust myself. If I feel sick I am never fully convinced that it is real. I think maybe this is just stress, maybe I am trying to avoid my responsibilities or sabotage myself in someway that I am not consciously aware of. I second guess my actions, my thoughts, my motives, my feelings. I am never quite sure of myself, which wrecks havoc on my confidence and my self-esteem.

I imagine that having any form of mental illness makes you question your perspective continuously. I am always testing reality. I frequently pinch myself (actually I touch my tongue to one of my canines) to see if I am awake or not, particularly when I am getting off the bus just to be certain I didn’t fall asleep. As an adult I have never fallen asleep and missed my stop. If someone says that something didn’t happen the way I remember I will usually accept their version even when the evidence supports my version better.  I imagine it also has to do with being abused as a child, children assume responsibility for their abusers. 

I understand intellectually that blaming myself isn’t doing anything for my emotional health. I am certainly not a more effective problem solver when dealing with all that guilt and paranoia but I really don’t know how to trust in a mind that plays so many tricks on itself. It is a continuous battle to stay connected to reality. No reality is the truth really, it is all perspective and there is no way to be 100% certain. I guess all we can do is remain open and curious and see what happens instead of imprisoning ourselves within our own certainty/uncertainty.



Sunday Writing Prompt #242 “The House as Self”

I took a few more shots this morning because I wanted to include some recent additions.


There is wood in the chest. We bought the chest 2nd hand, very cheap so it wasn’t in great shape (the top wasn’t otherwise good). It is a dowry chest. The fire poker my husband made at his first blacksmithing class. We almost never have a fire because we suck at lighting them and because we don’t use it often the chimney is wet and it makes it  too smoky. The plant there is our longest lived plant not in great shape but alive. We are where plants come to die.


We also bought a new sofa to replace the one we had previously which was 15 years old. I write with my lap top while sitting on the sofa. No we don’t have throw pillows but we do have snuggly blankets. Our decorative items are usually one the window sills because we don’t have anywhere else really to put them lol Isadora made the little pink angel. The plant that looks like a stick is my desert rose (it becomes leafless in the winter). I grew it from a seed and boy was I surprised that it grew at all, much less that it has lasted a year.


Hubbie sits here usually. First time we have ever owned a foot stool. Our coffee table is one of our most hated pieces of furniture lol We hope to shop a new one, probably second hand at some point.


A kitchen cabinet and part of our new induction stove. Our old stove was from the 80s and the glass in door was letting out cold air and it was starting to melt around one of the burners that ran too hot so it was time!


Cleaning closet probably one of the best, cheap organization tips I have found for cleaning supplies.





Sunday Writing Prompt #242 “The House as Self”

For the challenge I decided to take pictures inside drawers and cabinets and all the places you don’t usually see when people are showing off their houses. I organize when I get stressed, at least sometimes.  I have other coping mechanisms too like exercise or writing but whatever it is I tend to be obsessive. I have unlimited energy for the thing I am obsessed with and a very low tolerance for anything else. I am not like this all the time though, thankfully because I don’t think anyone could live with me if I was.

Sorry for the blurriness hands are freezing!



Coffee is on top, tea on the bottom. We have a tremendous amount of tea. I never drink coffee.


My 10 year old daughter’s sock drawer


A little snippet of the downstairs bathroom, the one my daughter uses. Nothing is perfect I mean what does that even mean? It is all about accessibility, at least I try to make everything as convienient as possible to use and find. I don’t always succeed but I really do try to be considerate even when I am on a rampage. If it hadn’t been late I would have taken a few more shots.