Never Fear

Yawning abyss
toes curled at the edge
staring downwards
can I fly?
Will my dreams hold me?
I leap
over the precipice
feeling the current
soar beneath my wings
I glide forth
my heart touched soft
knowing you are near.
Swooping
diving
catch me in your arms
show me I have nothing to fear
for you are not the callous one
but a lover dear.
Downward spiral
wings wrapped around
holding me safe
snapping upright
into the breeze
flying high above
but cradling me near.
One two
you will never let go
you want to show your worth.
Three four
beats on the floor
dancing
around and around.
Darling of mine
shine baby shine
never more
will you fear the morrow
for I shall always be at your side.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
July 10/18
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Dream to Come

My muse
My seduction
My misbeaten heart.
Your liquid eyes
Fill me to the brim
Tugging at my heart.
Misconception
Misunderstood
You trigger thoughts
and words
Twisting my tongue
Into lovely tales.
There is no right
There is no wrong
There is just you and I
A dream to come.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
July 12/18

Dark Dancer

Words dance

flit across my subconsciousness

as I wait….

wait for the one

he who haunts my dreams.

Stranger

desire

pull me in for a dance

amongst the stars.

Silken strands

wrap around

drawing me in

a tango of two

melting my fears.

Bells clanging

scattering my thoughts

you begin to walk away

fading

swallowed by the ether.

This dream

evanescent

makes me want to weep

as daylight

creeps across the floor

pulling me awake.

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

 

 

 

Whimsy

It starts

a word

a phrase

a picture seen

creation begins.

I sit

placing fingers to keys

they dance

music flowing

without any thought.

Words spew forth

cresting the page

rage

truth

love

happiness

pictures in the sky.

Possibilities……

dreams

fantasies

dance through my mind.

Never do I know though

where my story will take me.

Photo by Stanley Dai on Unsplash

Maimed

I get lost in fantasy
romance
forgetting
never acknowledging
it is not for me.
I am bespelled
when you speak
sweet words
sugared lies
longing looks
until I am caught
bound within the web you weave.
Once entangled
smiles become tart
words fall like hammers
wounding
gouging my self-esteem
creating this pathetic creature
that you view with scorn.
What is it about me?
Why do you torment me so?
Speaking to my dreams
to my desires
making me fall in love
only to maim my heart when you leave.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
May 6/18

Squashed

**Picture is one of mine. Although it does not really fit my post I wanted to use it because it fills me with peace.**
I am on day 113 of not taking pills. And (gentlemen you may want to turn away here) I am pms’ing. Previously when I pms’d I would go out to get pills to silence the ever critical voice that I heard. That voice has become really silent. It made a brief appearance on Wednesday, a skittering across my brain and than gone.
Right before I woke up this morning I was dreaming. It has been a long while since I have had dreams that I remember and in the last several weeks they have returned. With a vengence and I am loving it. Some are goofy and make no sense. Like the man running around with no pants on. Or The Kardashians making an appearance when I do not even watch their show. (I do not have real tv) But this morning’s dream was a little more realistic. More in line with things I am going through.
It took place at the house I grew up in. My ex was in it and I was furious with him because he left wet laundry in the washing machine. (Dreaming about laundry when I have to do laundry)  And suddenly I was taking a handful of pills. In the dream it turned out that this was the second handful I was taking. I broke down. Sobbing and unable to believe that I had taken the pills.
So when I woke up I was a bit perturbed.  The only pills in my house are my medication for my depression and my vitamins. I live in a city that does not have Sunday shopping and truthfully it was not even an urge. But it did make me weepy.
I was talking with friends about this. And grousing because damn it this is not me. I do not want to take any pills. I do not want to go and get a bottle of wine and drink it all in one sitting. Things are going really well. Even at work. So why on earth did this pop up?
Part of it I believe is due to the fact that I am pms’ing. And I know that I am going to have a customer complaint against me. The woman asked me if my name was Jay-lyn as she was staring at my name tag and than entering into her phone. I admit she got under my skin. And I was not as mindful as I should have been. As I was cleaning the shower I gave myself a stern talking to as well, reminding myself that it happened yesterday and there was no way of going back and changing it. I will accept responsibility although truthfully I don’t think that I could have done anything to make this woman happy.
When I take these two things and combine them, they were two triggers for using the pills to numb myself. To make it easier to handle.
I made a comment to DD that I had 7 days to go and I had better not be a whiny bitch for the whole 7 days or I was going to be sick of myself. And as for the customer, well I know what I did wrong and I know what I have to do to correct it.
In the dream as I was crying and throwing out the rest of the pills, a character from the show I am watching (Rescue Me) appeared. And he reminded me that I had done these 113 days without any problem. This was a small slip and I could recover from it.
As I write this now, I know that I am not going to have any small slips in real life because I do not want to. I am done with hiding from my feelings and emotions. I accept that I am imperfect and occasionally a little whiny. I am stronger now than before and with each day that I step further and further away, I become even stronger. The voices are like mosquitos buzzing around my ear. A nuisance for but a moment until I squash them.

Not in her Shadow

***Originally I was going to write about gratitude. But as usual what I assume/think I am going to write about ends up changing.***
I am my very own worst enemy. Forever I am telling myself why I cannot do things. I have an idea. I want to write about my journey through depression. It will be filled with my own brand of quirky writing and some of my blog posts and poetry. I have gotten as far as writing the introduction to myself. I have ideas but I am not sure how to implement them. Little bits and pieces float around in my brain and yet I am unable to bring myself to actually begin to write. Why? Because I keep stopping myself.
Both Grateful Single Moms and Claire S. had posts this morning that basically kicked me in the ass. Once more the universe is telling me to get my shit together. And if I don’t do it, I am going to miss my opportunity. So why am I so scared to begin? What do I have to lose? If I do not do this I am going to spend the rest of my life regretting it. If I do, an entire world will open before me. Yet I am still hesitant.
Today DD and me were talking about kids and how they can feel like they are in the shadows of their siblings. That they feel they will never come out from there, finding their own niche. My response was that I never had to contend with that, baby bro is 7 years younger than me and male. I mean he has payed me the biggest compliments twice in my life. Once when in junior high he found my atroctious first novel, changed the cover page and tried to hand the work in as his own. It was over 200 pages long of the worst drivel imaginable. Although he was looking for an easy out on an english assignment he still chose my work. And than this year, he told me I was talented. I don’t think he realized how much that meant to me. (I am crying as I write this.)
Than I thought about it and I do have a shadow that I have always felt I have been in. My mom is an amazing woman. I know I have written that like a thousand times and I will write it a thousand more. I can never be as kind, helpful, nonjudgemental and wonderful as she is. She coped with being divorced in the 1980’s. She coped with two children who as teenagers were selfish little snots who caused her so much hurt and pain. She found her dream and went for it. 1999 she retired and moved down to Mexico. For a couple of years she sort of floated around not sure what to do. The original plan was to open a beachside clinic as she is a trained nurse. Yet the more she looked around mom realized that the need was to help the families that lived in poverty around her.
Mom decided that she needed to give back to the community that had welcomed her. She set out to and created a foodbank. Mom travels to meet families in need to determine if they are eligible for assistance. She began a prenatal program for pregnant women. She developed programs within the school and has psychology students going in and working with the kids for free. (I maybe a little off on some of this in regards to the programs developed) She plans and co-ordinates the fund raising.
Clothing is donated for men, women and children. There are cruise ships that stop there and there are so many people who have been in touch with her and bring down school supplies and toiletries. Many people who visit her bring down a suitcase full of humanitarian aid. My mom is an amazing and selfless woman. And I know that I am not in her shadow nor do I need to fill her shoes. Yet subconsciously I think that I am not able to live up to her. An interview done on her several years ago called her the St. Sharon of Chixchulub. She will be the first to dispute this title. I am so proud that she is my mom and all the things that she has accompllished. And I am afraid that I am going to fall short.
Please do not think that in any way shape or form, has mom done anything to deter me. Not once has she insisted that I do things her way. Well she really wanted me to attend University but that was not in the cards for me. I did not have the desire to attend more classes. Maybe if I had been smart and gone into a writing program I would have perservered. Or not. Maybe the life that I have lead has brought me to this point. I know that she is proud of me and wants me to live the best life that I can for me. And I need to believe that. I need to believe in myself.
I have written that before . Goodness but my post is a lot of repetition today.
I do not know why I still doubt myself. Why I can talk to others and help them with their problems or issues and yet am unable to deal as effectively with my own. Every time that I start to talk about belief, all I can hear is Eminem singing ‘Believe’ in my head. Not the enitre song but just when he says ‘Believe’ in the chorus. As though even he is telling me to believe in myself.
I began this post saying it would be about what I am grateful for and yet it has turned into another one of my wandering stories. Covering everything and nothing. Yet I learned something within these words. I am going to end this post with one thing that I am grateful for.
I am grateful for my mom. She has shown me the discipline to reach for my dreams. She has shown me that anything I want is possible. She is my mom. And I love her so.
P.S. Mom is going to be horrified by all of this. Most likely will feel an inkling of guilt. I will get a letter or call later in which she will tell me that I am not in her shadow and I do not need to compare myself to her. That I am a wonderful woman in my own right. And she is right. But she is the woman that I look up to the most so inevitably I am going to compare myself to her. I love you mom.
P.P.S. This is the link to the article about mom written in 2012 if you would like to learn more.