Will You Forgive Me?

I don’t know if I can…

Self Portrait 2014©SusanToddMartin

Here I am again, laying on ‘the sick bed’. It’s my forlorn couch, a relic from the 70’s (in the most excellent and outrageous fabric one could ever hope to find) but alas, my dying body is taxing her. I say dying, and in a literal sense it’s true, in that all things living begin dying at birth, but that’s not my meaning here.

Where did this Skinny Young woman go? Why was she angry? Why wasn’t she jumping for joy in that Young body?

I say my body is dying, but it’s immobility, as in the ‘death’ of energy, ambition, drive to do, see, create. Creative death. Self inflicted wound. Very deliberate. I knew when I dragged myself out of bed that I would do nothing but suffer today. Even when an opportunity for joy arose, I quashed it.

Susan Past ©STM2018

. I know exactly the game afoot, I know full well the grant application that awaits my attention. I know that I have a good project in mind- I even laid some initial groundwork out. Did these things help me keep my momentum going? Well…no.

kind of cool photo…but I’m still having my pity party so I can’t enjoy it.

No! I’m still going to sit in this bucket of my own $#@% until I nearly miss the deadline, then I will run at the goal full tilt with sweat and tears flying off of me. In this process I will flay myself alive, peeling off each layer to offer up to the powers that be, showing them the very essence of me, turning this way , then that, to reveal my facets.

Me, Drowning in my own effluence…(Reaching Out©STMartin2017)

Why do I do this? Lay in ambush for my own success? I have asked too many times and found only euphemisms. So today I quit asking. Today I start

FIGHTING.

One of the many versions of The Sentinel’s Prayer©SusanTMartin2018

I made myself get up, clean up, walk the dog, eat and finish a painting. I still have some fight left in me!!!

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