Maranda Russell's Blog, page 34
September 11, 2019
September 9, 2019
Poetry – When He Thought of Death
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When he thought of death
(if he thought of it at all),
his mind took it to be
a burden of life,
for everyone knows
that this earthly shore
is terribly infected
with the miseries
of numberless mortals
who slowly died,
exhaling away hours
with each breathy
rise and fall
of those fragile lungs.
September 7, 2019
Goofing Off at the Halloween Store
My husband and I stopped by the Spirit Halloween store while we were out shopping today and decided to try on some masks. I thought I made a pretty cute sloth:
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And an interesting pouty president with a fabulous hairdo:
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September 5, 2019
Suit Up for Battle
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Have you ever had a relationship in your life, whether it be a family member, coworker, boss, neighbor, schoolmate, or other social acquaintance, who makes you feel like you need to prepare yourself for for battle every time you come in contact with them?
Perhaps they are masters of the subtle put-down, love to give sneaky guilt trips, always manage to make you feel inferior and “less than”, or simply bring out the worst in you, leaving you feeling regretful and exhausted after the encounter finally ends.
I have a meeting like this coming up soon and it has been stressing me out. While I was laying in bed a couple nights ago stressing about it, I suddenly realized how much effort I had to put into steeling myself before the encounter. I have to put on emotional and mental armor and make sure none of my weak spots are showing. I have to be strong and hide any reaction to their attempts to get to me while in their presence, otherwise it will only encourage them.
It made me sad to think that it has to be this way. It also made me realize why the whole experience causes me so much anxiety and exhaustion. Preparing for battle is exhausting!
September 3, 2019
ACEO Collages – A Little Poo Humor
Maybe it is the 10-year-old kid in me, but I love poop emojis. Here are a couple humorous ACEO (artist trading card) collages featuring the cute, gross little guys:
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Check out all my art for sale on my Ebay store!
September 1, 2019
Things I Worry About
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Are we destroying this planet to the point that it will be unable to sustain life? Will our arrogance, perpetual fighting and greed end up in our mutual destruction? Are we a foolish race causing our own eventual extinction?
Did any of the narcissistic abuse of my childhood rub off on me? Am I narcissistic? I don’t want to be. I don’t want to hurt anyone or cause anyone else the kind of pain I have felt.
Are we headed for civil war in this country? The polarization seems to be becoming more and more severe and dangerous. Which is more likely to happen first, our own country being torn apart by civil war, or our world being thrust into WW3 – likely over the natural resources we are bleeding dry?
Will I someday find myself alone and have to make the decision to either end my life or survive on my own (the latter which happens to be my biggest fear). As terrifying as the idea is, I hope I would have the strength to try to survive. I would hate to think I would give up that easily.
Am I irrevocably broken? I feel like something went very wrong in the attachment process and I am unable to create wholly secure and healthy attachments to other human beings. That is a hard thing to live with and hard (if not impossible) to fix. Attachment styles are something that is formed when we are very, very young. I have an anxious/avoidant style that makes all relationships feel insecure. Even if I can fix my conscious thoughts (as I have been able to do with my husband) I cannot fix my subconscious (and my fearful/paranoid dreams constantly remind me of that fact).
August 30, 2019
Poetry – She Wants Blood
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Young miss is bad,
very bad.
She wants blood.
She wants crimson floods
overflowing the gutters
down on main street.
She wants children
wielding wet scythes
deep in the corn fields.
She wants the church doors
painted red
long after Passover
has passed us by.
August 28, 2019
August 26, 2019
Should We Move or Not?
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My husband and I have been discussing potentially moving, which is stressful but also a little bit exciting. There are big positives and negatives to consider.
On the plus side, right now we live out in the middle of nowhere and everything is pretty far away. Our doctors, shopping centers, and my husband’s work are longer commutes than either of us like. Due to my anxiety and other issues, my husband has to drive me to many of my doctors’ appointments which means he has to take off work often. If we lived closer to my doctors I could probably take myself. Our internet options are also limited where we live, so we had to settle for satellite internet which is horrible service at a ridiculous price.
The negatives of moving would be that we do like our neighborhood. It is a beautiful, peaceful area out in the country that is well kept and our neighbors have been great so far. The areas we would be moving into would be closer to urban areas and would definitely not be as nice and would have higher crime rates since crime seems to be about zero around here. We also like having more space out here and not having neighbors too close. That would definitely change too.
Tough decisions.
August 24, 2019
Poetry: A World Like This
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Winnie the Pooh
and Tigger too
couldn’t have dreamed
of a world like this.
A world where kids
stay doped up
on Ritalin and Prozac,
while drug dealers
work the swing sets
and slides
of a local playground.
A world where kids
with guns and the will to kill
run the streets
with cold, hard eyes –
their consciences seared
by the flames of abuse
and neglect.
A world where the innocent
pay for the crimes
of the guilty, and justice
has become a four letter word.
A world that I once loved
but now only seek
to escape.
No, Winnie the Pooh
and Tigger too
couldn’t have dreamed
of a world like this.
But the funny thing is,
I think our dreary friend
Eeyore
saw it coming
all along.
(Poet’s note: This poem was written back when I was a foster parent, inspired by much of what I saw in the lives of the kids I took in. This is not meant to be a strictly anti-psych-meds poem, but unfortunately, I saw many of these kids unnecessarily or overly drugged just to keep them quiet or avoid dealing with the effects of their trauma.)
