The D Spot » Sloth

self pity is a sin anyway

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 15:42:45 +0000

As much as I try to be positive and loving and caring
As much as I give of myself to all others, all the time.
As much as I try to be strong and supportive
there are times when i think I am tearing at my seams
or
falling into little pieces, like raindrops on the sand.
And as much as I know that I am a grown up
I am strong and educated and
I know my own mind.
Just fucking once I would like to be child here
or the one who gets held
when the dark gets too deep.

Rescue Me

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 16:51:18 +0000

There is a song that says “Rescue me, and take me in your arms…”
That is how I am feeling today.
I am struggling greatly with a class that I need to take in order to advance my degree. I have done so much to help myself learn but my mind is just not accepting the material.
I am almost beyond asking anyone for help anymore. What I need now is some comfort. I am losing faith in my own intelligence and I know that some would call this over reacting. The truth is that I am very unsed to not being able to make sense of things. And the amount of struggle I am having during this class is very hard for me to accept.
An apparent proponent of tough love told me that I could learn it if I wanted to and if I stopped telling myself that I can’t.
Ouch. That really hurt.
I would like to learn it, if only to pass the damn course and be done with it.
But its like my mind shuts down…
I have been working on the same unit for 4 hours, and this includes internet research for clarification of my notes. I took the test and the first time I got a 37%. This led to more research and a final test score of 50%. My average is now around an 89 in the class. Which is still passing but there is a midterm coming up that only allows one attempt. And the final. And four more quizzes and two more projects.
So yeah, I am making the decision to learn this stuff. I am just having trouble doing so.
But does that mean that I am not entitled to some comfort?

statistically speaking, I will most likely start crying soon

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 20:13:41 +0000

Statistically speaking, I should be able to figure this out.
Statistically speaking, coefficient, sum of squares, linear equations should have a theorhetical probability of making sense to me.
Statistically speaking, I got my X axis knotted up on my Y axis and now my
data is a bivariate and I think it needs counseling.
Statistically speaking, I am supposed to be smart but
statistically speaking, I am dumber than a rock.

soul-touch

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 13:54:41 +0000

My skin aches for the gentle caress that has less to do with lust
and more to do with intimacy.
That soul-touch, that
unflinching eye contact that
plays music in the heart.
Only once have I heard that music…
The second half the missing piece
the coda on my symphony…
Looking looking always looking…
seeking something that likely will reside
in the end
in me.
She says She won’t be found without until She
is found within…Mother Goddess…
and if she is love
then my own love as well
my hidden secret symphony…
cannot be found until I find the same
in my own soul.
I just wish I had a little help.

(no title)

Fri, 30 May 2008 14:17:21 +0000

so this is a real shame when I am all dressed up showered, powdered, lotioned, made up, blown dry with red hot-mama nail polish on and some sparkly jewelry……
just to go buy the damn cat food.

bored housewife

Thu, 29 May 2008 17:29:52 +0000

And when I say it hurts you say wah wah wah
and when I say I need help you say its only going to get harder
and when I say I need my back rubbed you think it means you’re getting lucky
(and if you figure out you’re not, it a cursory pat on the shoulders and off you go)
and when I say I need you to help transport the kids you say you can’t
because its workout night
or lost is on
or wrestling is on
or you have a pay per view
or you have a softball game
or or or
*
I go to work I come home I do for the kids and even for you.
You go to work you come home and you do for yourself.
*
you tell me to go meet people, make friends.
I can’t even remember how to do that at this point.
and I can’t just take off and go, leave the kids to fend for themselves, as you find it so easy to do.
If you aren’t going to be home,
I won’t schedule anything because the responsibility is to the kids.
I don’t go out to dinner and movies leaving kids home to fend.
I don’t go out to pay per view leaving the kids home alone to near midnight.
I don’t go out to play softball.
I don’t use watching television as an excuse to come home early or not go anywhere at all.
*
Sigh
*

Ever so much older than 18

Thu, 22 May 2008 12:19:22 +0000

well the dreams have nearly stopped.
Im back to dreaming of symbols and signs
and random acts of weirdness.
No more waking breathless
with need and anticipation.
No more mooning around and wondering
‘what if’.
I ran away in high school, I can’t do it again.
Its sad, sometimes, being a grownup.

compassion fatigue

Thu, 22 May 2008 12:17:12 +0000

I think its called compassion fatigue—
the sense of ‘oh man not another one’
or
‘geez just take your pain meds/abx/fluids and go’
I hate it in myself.
I love being a nurse
I love my patients
I love the difference that I make for someone
on a daily basis.
But
I guess sometimes I am worn thin…
sometimes I have given and given and given
and its just been taken.
Its the patient’s right and I don’t blame them.
Im there to help them, hold their hands and teach them.
But the tank runs dry occasionally;
No repletion
No refill on the emotions.
And I need to retreat for a while
Hide in my bed, my blankets, my dreams
to find what I’ve lost used and given.
And hopefully get up the next day and
give again.
If I were a drinking woman…
well, I’d have a beer.
As it stands though, my release comes from pathetically typed words
in a hidden journal
hiding in the forest.

My selfishness

Tue, 20 May 2008 23:20:46 +0000

its strange, this lonliness…
it hits me like a wave on an otherwise sunny day.
Some chalk it up to hormones
but that’s the coward’s way out.
I run my life doing for others,
it is no surprise that I am left empty
by day’s end.
When I tell you I’ve been busy all day, I
get disdainful response.
When I tell you I am sad bored lonely confused,
I get a quizzical look and a change of subject.
Hell, when I talk about work, you change the subject–
in the middle of my sentence.
And yet there you go
kissing my neck when I am not looking.
Mixed messages reign supreme in my life and not just from you.
I need more than a kiss on the neck once a week
I need more than a bemused frown when I try to explain how I feel.
I need some connection, something a little more
I need
I need
I need….
My selfishness amazes even me, sometimes.

Axl has it right

Mon, 19 May 2008 22:45:31 +0000

listening to Sweet Child O’ Mine by GNR tonight brought tears to my eyes.
I want that kind of love from someone.
I want to feel special.
When you came home and immediately started in on me like I am dumb…
damn.