I am not my mother’s Pious Daughter I am one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones I am not my mother’s righteous daughter I will tattoo my skin I will not lower my voice She birthed a witch when she wanted a lady She prayed for a child who would walk with the lord But I watch the stars and I live by the planets I cut her dreams short with the edge of my sword We’re not our mother’s saintly daughters We forge our own paths, we sing our own tune We’ll make our own family and walk with our ancestors One day we’ll meet them with a song and a broom.
My Two Cents- I usually do Youtube for the video, Today this song is from TikTok. It is a reimagination of I am my Mother’s Savage Daughter. I truly love this. I am not the daughter my mother wanted…and that does not make me less. I am me, and I think I need to remember what that really means.
Well me, it’s nice talking to myself A credit to dementia Some day you too will know my pain And smile its “black-tooth grin”
If the war inside my head Won’t take a day off I’ll be dead My icy fingers claw your back Here I come again
Feeling paranoid True enemy or false friend? Anxiety’s attacking me And my air is getting thin
Feeling claustrophobic Like the walls are closing in Blood stains on my hands And I don’t know where I’ve been
Once you committed me Now you’ve acquitted me Claiming validity For your stupidity
I’m chomping at the bit I’m sharpening the axe Here I come again, whoa! Sweating bullets
My Two Cents- Remember the war within? Yeah, I am still fighting. Don’t we all fight those voices? I have spent quite a few years worried about my mental health issues getting me locked away. Asylums are not good places. Especially when you are extremely claustrophobic. My mind is a place where so many wars have been fought. And I know I am not alone.
As many of you know, I just took a vacation. The vacation was fun…and it was miserable. I will explain. My daughter and I went to visit my mom. We enjoyed the visit…but there were snide little digs that my mom made that we did not enjoy. I don’t plan on going into details. When we got back we were both upset and trying to get back to the happiness that was home. Then today we were talking about it.
“It wasn’t that bad” “I just exaggerated it” “I am just ungrateful.” “I blew it out of proportion.” “She probably didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” “I was just looking for reasons to hate the trip.”
This often happens to me when I deal with my mom. I end up feeling guilty because I take what she says the wrong way. I told my therapist about a thing that my mom had said that had my daughter upset. I told her that I had told my girl “My mother loves me, but I don’t think she likes me very much. The difference Is I love you and I like you just how you are. I would not change anything about you.” My therapist asked me a question that has been bouncing around my head ever since. “Are you sure that your mom loves you?”
The question becomes how are we sure if anyone loves us? When my parents got divorced, my mom told me something that stuck in my brain. She said that Daddy loved her, but not in the way she needed. Perhaps the demons eating at my brain are doing so, not because I am unloved or unwanted, but instead because I need more than those who have loved me were capable of giving. So my internal war today is the question – Am I too needy? Is everything I do stemming from the desire to be loved more than anyone is possibly capable of? And is my inner voice just looking for an excuse to be miserable?
I am at war with myself, and to be frank, I doubt that I am going to win. I am fighting the demons within, and it looks like I am losing again. The words that whisper in my brain are getting real loud within. Teaching me that I am failing seems to be the goal, Leaving me there to somehow the answers know.
Yeah, I guess I am going slightly mad, For I find myself doubting even the truth I had. Instead of knowing that I am whole and hale, I find doubt behind every thought, everywhere.
I don’t know if I will get every day this week posted. I am not able to get the week scheduled today. I am busy fighting that war inside me.
She was born in the 1930’s in Washington DC. She said that young women were not allowed to carry any weapons…but they had hat pins. I put a picture on this post…She told me that the hat pins were sharp and it baffled me. How did women use them with out poking themselves? The hat pins were seriously the same as a dagger in the hands of these young women.
Her story made me think that DC was a really bad place in her youth…(though I guess I can’t say it is a good place now)
I don’t remember the whole story but it was full of the necessary thrill to ensure that the teen I was would be hooked on every word. Now the woman I am in the middle of a dystopian nightmare for women am wishing I could have recorded every single story she told. I will always remember her telling me that Roe vs Wade didn’t make abortion easier to get, it merely made safe abortion easier to get. Women were still getting them, just most of them were dying. She told me about back alley butchers. I was so happy that I was born in post Roe vs Wade America…now I am sorry that I have lived long enough to see my home become a place where I am no longer free.
Due to the lack of spoons and the huge amount of stuff that I am supposed to be getting done…I am noping out of Today. Thank you for your understanding.
Today I was trying to get work done. It seems like whenever I sit down to do work…well that is when everyone wants my attention. Normally it does not bother me…I multitask and get everything I can done. Today however it had me snapping. I have since apologized to those who I was cranky with. But it got me thinking.
Why was I so quick to snap?
Well, I have publishing deadlines approaching. I am also getting ready for a trip out of town. (A rare treat as my Mom is coming to get me and my daughter for a mini Vacation to her place.) Then I have invited friends over for a fourth of July cookout…And so I have to plan for that…I am rearranging my house and cleaning as I go. My dishwasher broke and I have to prepare for the installation crew with the new one. Summer is almost here and I have yet to spend any time in my art studio…My legs have been achy…People, in general, have been irritating me more than usual…
Yeah, that is all my excuses. Well, I could probably come up with a few more. But I don’t make a habit of Lying…Even to myself. So I had to face the real reason why Patti has been cranky today. I really did not want to do anything other than sit at my computer and work on the projects I wanted to work on. I wanted to be alone, crank up my music, and work on making books exist. Either by formatting or by writing or editing. I really did not care. I wanted to forget that people exist because then I would be able to forget the cruelty we people do to each other. I would be able to forget the idea that peaceful existence is a dream…a hope that is too often dashed.
I could forget that this world is so awful that eighteen-year-olds want to kill and die.
I could forget that there are so many people who cannot seem to accept the mere safe existence of people who are different. That people feel the need to hate. To fear. And often what humans hate and fear – They kill.
I could for at least a short time forget that women’s rights are at this very moment about to be thrown back in time to the 1950s.
I could for a few minutes just enjoy what I am doing and not worry about my children in this world. This world is where hate and fear are more prevalent than love and kindness.
I could forget that there are those who would have me locked away because I am different. There are those who would speak over me…simply because what I say is nothing that they want to hear.
So when I feel like my voice is being stolen I GET LOUD.
So since I am aware that I am Snappy because I wanted to hide – GUESS WHAT?!
Consider this your Warning. I am about to get VOCAL. I Am about to get loud. I have been more or less leaving my opinions off of my social media. I tame myself because I feel like that is not going to help my books sell.
But I will no longer bite my tongue just to watch it bleed. My opinions are a part of me.
So I know I missed last week…and here it is Sunday…and time to schedule my posts. I again don’t wanna. I feel like a child throwing a tantrum. I usually enjoy the blog. I enjoy the stuff I do for writing and for publishing. Still, I spent yesterday getting caught up on work I had put off. I wrote a poem, took out 2 bags of trash, did 2 loads of dishes, put up the finishing touches on 2 anthologies, and set the basics up for preorder for Death becomes her (Serena’s Poetry book). I still need to put the files together to finish that one. I only put the front cover as a placeholder – I need to format it properly and make the rear cover. So I sit down to work and I find myself ready to revolt.
I have lots of chores to do. The chicken needs to get its cage cleaned out. (We have 2 chickens and 2 ducks. One of the chickens was brought in during the winter due to illness and we have not got it back in the outside coop yet.) I need to clear my kitchen around my dishwasher – It is about to be replaced. I just got done eating and now have more dishes to do. I have writing to do. I have dusting and straightening that really needs to be done… So yeah I have things I need to do. I am sure there is laundry. Yet, I find myself rebelling at the idea of doing a single freaking thing. It is not just the blog.
This week is already setting itself up to be a busy one. I have promised to visit a friend. My new dishwasher is supposed to be installed. My little brother turns 40 on the 28th. (I have to harass him online on his birthday. it’s like required….lol) I have general housework that though it is not much will take me triple the time it would take anyone else. And I still have to shower, cook, and eat during that time.
And I still don’t wanna set up my blog. I think that I am going to try and do stories of my life again. Simply because it sounds fun. It means that my blog will update randomly this week. Y’all are so patient when I do that. I just really appreciate it.
I am also in discussion to possibly reprint an author that I have worked with on anthologies before. He is considering Fae Corps for the book that he had out. His publisher went under and I am hoping that I get to play with this wonderful book.
Raz is still hard at work on his second book – he missed the deadline because he is trying to put together the best story possible.
Our winter anthology (Darkness Screams) deadline is August 1st and the call just went live.
Seeking stories releases on June 1st. Grandmother’s Wisdom releases on June 1st.
Grandmother’s Wisdom is the first Charity anthology we are doing. 50% of the Author royalties – In other words half of what we receive for it…will be donated to No Kid Hungry. We felt like this fit the purpose of the anthology. It was meant to be a remembrance of our grandmothers. There are some really wonderful memories in that one.
Seeking Stories is a collection of adventure stories of all sorts. From the slight horror stylings to the futuristic. It has an all-star list of writers, poets, and artists.
Death Becomes her releases on June 18th. It is dark poetry from Serena Mossgraves. Quite a few of them are about death, In one form or another.
Okay, I feel like that is all…OH! and I dyed my hair Purple again. Yeah, that is all now.
Pattimouse 