A Poem About Anxiety

Sitting in the metaphorical dirt

That clouds my racing brain

Wondering how I got here

Again and again and again

Nothing seems to work

To keep the doubts at bay

Fear is the only constant

And my tears that I hide away


I know I am not alone.  And I know that my “issues” do not surpass anyone else’s.  All is relative mi amigos and amigas.  For as long as I can remember, my “stuff” wasn’t important.  I dealt by making jokes and minimizing my feelings.  Why should I complain when what is happening to other people around the world is absolutely atrocious?  I mean c’mon.  Read the news.  If you do, you know I got nothing.

Ah but I do.  And the dam is about to break.  My heavy aching flood of emotions have been contained far too long.

As always, more to come.


Lame Attempt At Acrostic #LAAA










Wallowing.  No more wallowing people.  I’m trying to accept that which I cannot change.  I noticed I have been powering through.  I have been over the moon happy.  But is that a good thing? Or is that denial? I have to wonder.  Maybe middle of the road is best?  But not for me.  I am full tilt ON or OFF.

Enjoyed the moon this morning.  Hoping to stay over it.


As always, more to come.

Poetry 12/18/18

Clearing out drafts and found this gem.  Very subjective gem of course.  I enjoy my lame attempts at poetry.  A way to soothe what ails me.  Get feelings out on virtual paper instead of festering.

As a mom, I am full of insecurities.  I keep wishing for a do-over.  But that is pointless, the kiddos are 30 and 21 years old.  None of us wants to go backwards. And besides, the here and now is pretty darn exciting.  #ChooseJoy, #NoBiteMe, #NOChooseJoyBitingHurts 🙂

Without further ado and silliness

Pain returns

That really never left

The tears still fall

Full of much regret

No cause for shame

Is what you tell yourself

You did the best you could

Let go

You’re off the hook


Writing It Out ~ Lame Attempt At Poetry

The women from Grey’s dance it out.  I write it out.  Today I found a journal of mine from May 2000.  What a blast from the past.

As I strolled down memory lane re-reading my prose, I realized the more things change, the more they stay the same.  So much for growth. I am done.  Not growing.  I am done complaining.  I am tossing my minor cares to the wind.  Grateful for everything I have which is plentiful.

She’s going down

Ready to blow

At the end of her rope

Thinking up things

That may never come true

Not knowing

Which way to move

Damned if you do

Damned if you don’t

Creating inertia

Continue to float

In a sea of morass

All the while knowing

This too shall pass

As always, more to come.


Powerful waves

Adversely affecting

Internal feelings


this can’t be right but supposedly osteoporosis does not cause pain

some days are better than others and today it hurts 😦

Wah, wah.  Boo Hoo.


Forget the past

The past is gone

Don’t predict the future

Or you’ll likely be wrong

Live now



Find the good

In all you see

As always, more to come.

Poetic Punishment

Turning up the heat

To punish myself

For all my wrongs


Those that are real


Those that are imagined

The brain is dizzy

The thoughts are spinning

The heat gets hotter