Someone once loved and lost

Black bird resting on my shoulder

Defeated whispers

A cautious tale

Dare I grasp on to darken feathers

Allow my soul to remember

A friend who left me to the sea

Wyvern claws into broken wings

Grasping at these darkened dreams

Dare I take hold to keep safe

A cautious tale

Of retribution and hate

Murder caws into the wind

Twining with the wyvern like an old forgotten friend

A soul infected

I am writing this after seeing a post from a blogger talking about her parenting experience during the pandemic.

Now, she isn’t the only one to write about it. Probably 1 of millions if we are being completely honest. Yet, hers is the first one I had even bothered to look at. Not that there wasn’t any chance to do so, because like I said, plenty of people are writing about this topic. I just haven’t been in a place where I could read about other experiences. So when taking the dive to finally understand what others are doing it is interesting that I ran across hers.

This experience has been trying. As many of my readers know I have a mental disorder. One that can make like a bit more complicated than it needs to be. One would think that this pandemic has scattered me. Made it hard to do much of anything as I curled into a ball awaiting the day we all die. Really, that isn’t remotely near enough to the panic state I have been thrust into.

Instead, image this, a mother and her child sitting on the couch binge watching movies. Cut to a few hours later when said mother is in her room while her child is in a different area. They are both doing different activities but both are quiet. They are content in ways you wouldn’t image would be the case in such situations. They are happy with the lack of responsibility.

But, if you wish to stick around a little longer, you will find the child sleeping and the mother crying alone in her room.

That is my reality.

See, I am used to staying home. Honestly not having to pretend to be happy while around other humans is amazing. I hate my job. I hate school. But I love them so much that I can’t stand myself. A perfect contradiction I know. But that is where I am right now. I am happy to be home and away from the world but I will it all the same.

I miss my co-workers. To the point that I have messaged my boss and a few others to check on them from time to time. I miss my fellow classmates. So much so that I wish there was a way to reach out. Zoom dinner date while we talk about Philosophy and how Socrates would have tots been a frat boy is given the chance. I miss my family and friends.

But by the grace of every deity, if given the chance to stay like this forever I would be grateful. I would welcome it with open arms and scream fuck y’all to the wind. Just me and my daughter, no school and no work. Yes please.

But, my reality makes it so I can not. I do not want this.

So there are days when things are good. I am “fun”(coughlamecough) mom. Singing and dancing while cleaning. Cooking meals and helping my kiddo with homework.you want to make some slime kid? I gotchu boo. Wanna jump on the bed? Fuck the neighbors, they know what we about! We will drown ourselves in laughter and not care about anyone else.

But there are also bad days.

Ones where I can not stop crying. When homework becomes a chore. When ignore the notifications from my daughters teaching asking if she has done her work. My house is a mess and the neighbors love me. My daughter has to fight the silence. Because mommy can not stand sounds. Everything hurts until it doesn’t. Ever tried to parent while feeling numb? As though someone else is living your life and you are playing third wheel to another’s reality. You, the voices, and the one who is in control. All fighting for recognition. With a child who is just to young to understand that not now means maybe next week sweety mommy is to busy fighting her demons.

I have gone a few days without realizing anything. A few hours where I can’t recall what I have done.

This pandemic has been a life saver in some ways. Allowing me to relax and give into my inner desire to stay away from the world.

But it has also been much like the beginning of every disaster movie. Only this one doesn’t end with a love interest and a white fence blocking out the burning city.

What time to be alive.

Please check out this fellow blogger who shared her story and inspired me to write me own. Also feel free to share you own experience while parenting (or aunting and uncleing, or cousining or sibling…ing… ok I’ll stop) during all that is going on.

Blog in question is Grieving Out loud. Thank you so much for sharing your story about mothering through the pandemic. While are experiences are vastly different in many ways I enjoy what you wrote. Seriously, I adore just about everything you write.

Keepsake

I keep it on my sleeve knowing it will bleed

I think that comforts me, this pain.

When the world is going to hell and people are stuck in themselves

Who would dare to listen to a Brown girls words?

When so many aren’t speaking loud enough

To drown out the voices of the dead

So I hold it to my chest knowing it will die

Because it comforts me, reminds me I’m alive

Mothers Day Requiem

Precious one with a bitten tongue

Broken by a lie only once spun

See through roses tinted blue

Ignoring the warnings in its hue

Tainted woe with glitter wings

Painting roses with memories

Precious child with a bitten tongue

Singing a love much to young

Did you see the rose turned blue?

Or where you mystified by its liars hue?

I am sick. No, not that sick. A different kind that makes it hard to sleep at night. The one that makes it so opening my door and walking outside is suddenly a chore. This is my normal but was easily worked past as long as I had a goal in mind.

Now, I am goalless.

There is nothing keeping me from venturing to the outside. Aside from my mind of course. But it is enough. There is a barrier now and I am to afraid to do anything about it.

I am sick. I feel like I am grieving a life that never was. I had just started living again. I had a job. I went to school. I had reasons. But now they are gone and I do not remember their flavor anymore.

A part of me doesn’t care. I crave solitude in a way that makes my heart hurt. It is beautiful, truly, but it isn’t enough.

My mother is sick as well, but not in the way you think. She told me so other day as they hooked up IVs along her arms. “Dehydrated” they said, before sending her on her own with some paid meds, “just give it to weeks”.

I don’t think that plays a part in my illness. Frankly, I do not think I feel enough to understand. I should feel pain but instead I am empty. Current events suggest that I am just going through the motions. But I think I left some part of me behind.

F – Freeze me

My mother wouldn’t look at me no matter how much I tried to catch her. I think a part of her knew. Of course she will pretend other wise, but what else is there to believe. The women who carried me would never be capable of this. At least, that is the story I wish I could believe. My own mother can not bare to look at me. She turns away every chance she gets. Lips tremble as she lies. Eyes glisten as she hides. She can stand to touch my hand. Or rather, what little that is left. I think it scares her. But I wish she could see that it scares me more. I am the one who will never be loved. The one who will always be alone. I can find my beauty in other things. But not if she can not do this simple task. I need my mother to see me. I need her not to grieve whats gone. She can’t bare it though. Despite that fact that it was I who was wronged.

E – Evade

He took his time with me.

I do not remember screaming, but it must have been loud enough to wake what demons had been standing by. For when I opened my eyes next they had been sitting at my side with such pitiful looks. One gently laid his hand on my chest while alone started to cry. When he took away I could see blood from a wound I could no recall ever getting.

Carved into me so deeply

There may have been a moment when I tried to move, but I can not remember. Waking up in a room full of people who could not see. Their eyes sewed shut with broken pieces of red string. I only just begin to notice one sniffing the air when I begin to hear again.

Someone nearby is weeping

Carefully I extend a hand. Grasp for what left. What’s there. I do not think she has noticed me. So committed to her screaming. There are tears I wish I could expend but I fear the meaning would be lost to her. Poor lamb who got caught. Poor lamb who may never get up