Worry who me?

I worry a lot……I worry about work I worry about paying bills and most of all I worry about T. I worry I do not do enough I worry that I am not there enough I worry that I am not showing him enough love or time. I worry non-stop that I am failing him as a mom. Will there ever come a time when I can look at my child and say I have given him my all or will I always worry that I could give him so much more. He is my sun and my moon. He is why I get up in the morning and laugh. He is a dream come true and I am lucky to have him……But I shall always worry that I am failing him.

Written by me Oct. 13/16

The above popped up on my FB memories Friday. As I read over it, my heart ached for how vulnerable and scared I was. How as I began to walk the twisted path of my depression, I could not see where I was headed. But this tells me. However, that is not what this blog is about.

I no longer worry that I am going to fail T. I do worry that I let him spend too much time on the computer either watching Youtube or playing his Scrap Mechanic or Minecraft. I worry that I don’t make him read enough but on the other hand I do not want to make him hate reading. I do worry that I don’t talk to him enough although he reassures me all the time that I talk more than enough for both of us.

As a mom, my main job besides loving T is to turn him into a semblance of a productive member of society. Which means laying down some ground rules. Teaching him responsibility. Disabusing him of the notion that he and he alone matters in the world. I try to open his eyes to the differences around him so that he sees people and lives, nothing else.

I have taught him a fair share of my bad habits as well. He is sarcastic. He always has to have the final word. He likes to procrastinate. Whether he realizes it or not, he likes words which is a bonus in my book.  (By the way, the word thing not a bad habit)

Overall, as I look at the young man T is growing into, I am fairly confident that he is going to turn into that productive member of society that I want him to be. There are still going to be some struggles ahead (I mean c’mon, he is a boy about to go into puberty and yeah, how do I handle that one?) so you may want to check back with me in a year or so to see if I am still writing and singing his praises.

 

 

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I am a bunny

***Image via Cartoon Network found on Internet.

I am a bunny

hear me roar.

What?

You say that I cannot roar?

That I am too tiny and too cute?

Do you not see the fierceness

with which I protect my heart?

Do you not see

that I am the provider of my family?

I am a bunny

see me soar.

Why?

Why do you say I cannot soar?

That I am meant to stay rooted to the ground?

Do you not see the dreams

that I create within this harsh world?

Do you not understand the hope

that I watch each day unfurl with?

I am a bunny

tiny and cute

fierce and determined

ready to embrace

the differences that life will share.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 9/17

I am alright

Each step forward is a struggle.

It feels as though I am wading

wading through life, emotions

without truly connecting.

You ask me if I am okay,

I can see your mouth moving

and I am fairly certain,

certain that I give the standard answer

the one that says ‘I am alright.’

Look a little closer

and you will see;

the tears in my eyes

the fear that I will be discovered as false.

The shattered loneliness I dwell in

all the time.

The black shadows reach forth

capturing me in their fingers

I struggle to break free

only to become submerged again.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 23/17

Sidling Shadows

She moves like a languid lynx

slinking across glass littered alleys

tacky with the tears

of so many shattered dreams.

Hard and heartless, she has closed down

using her body as a commodity.

To survive, to entrap, to getting what she wants.

Unsure that even she knows.

Men made her this way.

From a father who held her too dear

to a brother she fought with fear.

From boyfriend to boyfriend

each one always the same…..

It was only the faces and bodies

that changed.

Women too had a hand here.

A mother who turned from her tears

to a sister who could only feel relief.

From girlfriend to girlfriend

relationships found growing in rocky graves

mistrust and jealousy….

It was only the clothes and hair

that changed.

No time for tears.

No time for love.

No time for comfort.

Delving into the underbelly

schooled in trash

she moves like a languid lynx

sidling through the shadows.

Your worst dream.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 10/17

Stain upon my soul

I wrote this in 2012 on this day. I have been paying attention to my ‘On this day….’ and rediscovering lost words. Picture is also mine.

Begone, beyond, feelings tossed to the moors

frightful, disturbing, unwanted, pain

Rapture, only found with denial, with revulsion

go not into the embrace, but fight for hell.

You say you will forgive me, you will wipe away my tears

you say that your eyes alone, can divine the stain upon my soul.

You say that through you and you alone, can I find salvation.

yet you turn your head, your ears, your eyes

When I do not behave;

how your ambassadors on earth feel I should.

Call me not a coward, nor defiant

you and you alone gave me free will

My choice, my decision, my desire

hurt not others, all shall be good.

Find the stain upon my soul,

enough to curse me.

To send me to hell.

Yet you gave me the ability to choose,

and still you punish.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

August 5/12

 

 

 

Whore no more

Picture courtesy of symphonyforlove.blogspot.com

I saw her standing on the corner

(a child dressed as a whore)

Baby fat still molded to her body

a painted face dripping in gore.

Sitting in my home that night

surrounded with all my wealth

Love and warmth, a sense of security

I saw her standing alone.

(A child dressed as a whore)

Laying in bed that night

my mind did mutter and churn

How long could I plead ignorance

how long could I ignore?

(a child dressed as a whore)

What options lay at my door?

to call the police? Find her mother?

One way leads to a system that fosters

another may lead to horror.

(a child dressed as a whore)

Finally I knew I could take no more

and a plan did begin to brew.

Victim to victim, her silent cries

her empty face calling to my soul.

(a child dressed as a whore)

Late the next night while the family did sleep

I sidled from the house.

The car was running

exhaust hanging in the crisp air.

I found that little girl last night

and took her in my arms.

Promised her peace and redemption

saw the gleam of tears, hope revived.

(a child dressed as a whore no more)

Never was there an outcry

no news, no sad mother with tears

I did the right thing

rescuing that child from the stones.

(a child dressed as a whore no more)

This morning the sun rose

the mist burned into the ground.

And somewhere in this vast world

a child has been saved from such horrors.

(a child dressed as a whore no more)

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Feb. 6/14

 

 

 

 

 

Meglomania

Photo courtesy of Pinterest.

You talk and talk, always right

ears closed to the other voices.

You and you alone make the mark

and destroy a million lives.

Who says you are right?

Who spoke this truth to you?

Making you alone,

the one that all shall worship?

You venom spreads, poisoning

you voice, so mesmerizing

Call thousands to your banner

waging war against so many innocents.

Hatred,

disrespect,

And villany.

Your voice,

your words,

so charismatic.

But death shall follow;

balance the scales

as we all watch the blade fall.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

November 29, 2011