It is an inconvenient time,
swaddled tightly with life’s
circumference.
Enmeshed with an array of emotions,
responsibilities.
I am culpable for everyone.
I am liable to provide the means to fulfill
their urgent desire to be happy.
I am a one stop shop.
As my body matures,
my vanity has given way to
fuck it.
The task of taking care,
caring,
care of,
caregiver.
Is this my career?
The end of this cruel circus is out of sight.
The girth of its implications beyond my grasp.
The list of my imperative duties long.
It is hard to discern,
which move to make,
first.
My prayers stopped with all belief
long ago.
Now I find myself,
praying under my sheets.
help me
help me
help me
please, God help me
I wonder if the demon of despair will ever release me.
I wonder if I am too far gone for redemption or grace.
I wonder if God is laughing at my hypocrisy.
Photo Credit: Filip Chudoba Performance. Flickr via Compfight cc
I resonated with your caring and care giving lines. Will there ever be an end to that as long as we and others we love have bodies? Is this what I was made to do?
My prayer from the depths of helplessness: “Help me, Mother. Hold us, Mother. Thy will be done.”–with many variations on that theme. I mean Big Mama, Divine Mother, the one who watches over our bodies, Nature Mother who knows the seasons of life and death. This is where I find just a little grace and comfort at desperate moments. I imagine Her holding me in Her arms and on Her lap.
I feel this so deeply, Julie. Your honesty kills me. Lord, those mornings and nights when I pray under the sheets, just hoping I’m doing something right. Life gets really complicated around this age, with the kids growing up and my own looks and body going the other way. Some days I vacillate between worrying to the point of panic, to trying to shrug it off and say “It’ll all be OK,” to looking in the mirror and feeling dread. And then feeling guilt about the fact that I care about my appearance in these troubled, stressful times. Anyway, that’s how I feel in a paragraph, but you express your thoughts so much better in your poem. Thank you. xo
Amen. This may be one of my favorites, truth teller.
“I wonder if I am too far gone for redemption or grace.
I wonder if God is laughing at my hypocrisy.”
You’re not far gone from grace, my sweet mama. The answers may not come immediately, but believe God is keeping you safe and surrounded by people who loves you no matter what. <3
One of your VERY BEST. So many of us can relate to this on a daily basis. Being a parent is so hard. Being under the covers, praying for help and guidance. Never knowing if we’re making the right decision or screwing them up completely. We as parents worry about this every day. You captured that feeling completely!
“As my body matures,
my vanity has given way to
fuck it.”
If you feel this way, I am going to eat the damn cupcake! You are gorgeous, inside and out. If you can say fuck it, the rest of us can too. It’s like a mental release. While we are juggling life, family, and career…something has got to fall. It’s okay if we aren’t our teenage body sizes, it’s okay.
We need to all say fuck it!
An open window to your mind…I love how you are able to put raw emotion to pen and paper. One of your best, poetess. xoxoD.
**As my body matures,
my vanity has given way to
fuck it**
Julie, I get you. x X from MN.