Last week I was still dealing with crazy head. Don’t get excited, nothing has changed, but I
have a plan of action now at the very least.
I’ve said I want a Renaissance.
I’ve been saying it and feeling it.
But it’s hard to work on my Self and be a semi-single SAH mother and a
wife and a writer and an artist and a musician and a business owner. For some reason I guess I always felt like I
should be able to do it all. Not 100%,
but at least do it all myself. My
husband is always away, so I take on the role I have to in order to exist
here. But I want my other roles; I have
many. It’s hard to keep things going and
still manage to do everything.
Motherhood trumps everything else, including my sanity.
Drifting Sun has been back burnered for quite awhile
now. My shed was inundated with all of
the stuff that was in my office prior to us needing a room for the baby. I only printed one or two jobs the entire
time I was pregnant. I actually had my
sister and husband do the physical printing, and I just did the screening,
prepping and registration. It can get a
little smoky while printing, and in July while being 8 months pregnant the last
thing I wanted to do was be standing and printing in my tiny hot box of a
shop. So they printed for me as I
oversaw the process while sitting outside in a chair, and it worked out nicely.
I did print a couple pieces when they
ran into problems, though, and helped them get straightened out. And I printed a jacket job I had, because it
was one jacket (ONE CHANCE SWIPE!) and my husband felt a little too intimidated
to do it himself, which is understandable.
I just printed a job for my cousin (December 2011), a
memorial shirt for my Aunt Leslie who died of cancer in 2008. It was an honor to print these shirts and it
got me back into the swing of things with printing after the pregnancy
hiatus. This still doesn’t change the
fact that my printing and chemicals and dark(bath)room stuff doesn’t exactly
mix with watching a toddler. And even
when I am working on graphics or other things, it takes a great deal of my
attention. I’m always split. I’m not a working mother and I’m not a stay
at home mother...I’m something else. I’ve
tried to work out a situation where I could have her consistently watched once
a week but haven’t been able to make it work yet. At a loss, I’ve taken a friend on as my “assistant”
instead. I need help. I think it’s obvious, and if I am pleading
“please, I’m dying here!” and am not answered with a helpful hand, then by the
fuck I’ll MAKE a helping hand. Leslie is
my friend and it seems appropriate she shares my aunt’s name. Truthfully, other than my aunt, she is the only
Leslie I have ever known. She will visit
me a lot and simply allow me to get simple things done like the dishes or
getting a shower, just by being another individual that is around. Leslie has agreed to help me out with my business also. It seems appropriate that the first time I
met her I was in the shed printing a job.
She actually helped me out watching my kid AND printing the first day I
met her. Maybe it was her eagerness, or something
inside of her I recognized that seemed familiar, but this girl is a
lifesaver. Sometimes you just recognize
people on a soul level and the connection is immediate and effortless.
Sometimes asking for help can be difficult. I have grown to have a problem with this
because the response was usually unsatisfying.
I shirked from asking for help...but in truth, I need help. Isn’t it obvious? It can be hard to submit to the fact that you
are lost, look at the male stereotype of how hard it is to ask for
directions. Last year I struggled with
this dilemma when deciding whether to take antidepressants or not and whether
to begin to see a therapist or not.
Decisions decisions. Life
decisions. This year has been chock full
of the help I received because of that decision, the decision to heal. The decision to leave the victim mentality
behind. It’s mostly a battle with EGO. Ego doesn’t need help...so it thinks. Truth is...EGO needs help more than anyone or
anything. EGO is the prime reason for
all suffering and most of the communication problems among us. It’s quite the bitch.
So last year was fucking nuts but it was a first step into
what really feels like a whole new life, it seems fitting that December 2012
was the end of the Mayan calendar and the supposed end of the world as we know
it. Nothing seemed to happen, aside from
symbolically. Was that really such a bad
thing? I needed the change. I needed my world to end so that my new life
could begin. It was a matter of SURRENDER. I simply had to surrender to the help that I have
always desperately needed...physically, emotionally, mentally...and
spiritually.
[Finished September
10, 2013]
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