Meredith

the moment comes

the moment comes

where it all feels like too much again.

where the loneliness is so big

it fills by stomach with acid

and my head with constant thoughts of worry and fear.

the moments come

when i don’t know if or how i can do this.

sit with it all.

it’s all so much.

a moment like that is happening now.

my heartburn the painful reminder of it.

coming to yell “hello!!!! you haven’t been noticing me as much as i want you t...

every little piece is so, so beautiful.

i feel my pain.

the loneliness, oh fuck, the loneliness.

the heartbreak, dear god, the heartbreak.

the fear, please, i can’t handle the fear.

the anger, not more anger.

and beautifully it turns to,

the loneliness, oh yes, the loneliness.

the heartbreak, the sweet sweet, heartbreak.

the fear, please teach me, dear fear.

the anger, yes of course, more anger.

and what comes next,

the love, my goodness, the ...

look right at it

i’m done playing the victim.

i am not a victim.

i have been hurt, yes.

i have been assaulted, yes.

but i have power.

i design my life.

i decide my worth.

i choose where i go,

and what i do;

what i wear,

and if i care what anyone thinks.

i won’t care what they think.

i won’t care what you think.

i have power.

i have strength on my own.

i have power.

i am beautiful on my own.

i have power...

that’s just the way things go

how scared, terrified, i felt yesterday, march 16, at this time of night.

how excited, energized, i feel tonight, thinking about the exact same things.

i was a hurricane

one day i am here.

the next i am so, so far gone.

so, so far away.

one day i am calm.

the next i am a hurricane moving through the house.

but this time i am fully aware how much i’m raining. and who i am raining on.

that’s good right?

that’s progress?

i hope.

the whole time i rain down,

i hear the words in the back of my head from my favorite meditation.

the part about our voice.

saying “we create good or we creat...

one big letting go.

(this one was from a few weeks ago)

one big letting go.
letting go. letting go. letting go.

i don’t know how... i don’t know how to... what? anything. sleep. smile. cry. let it out. let it go. move through it. no, maybe i know how, but it all just feels like i am incapable. my body feels like the biggest weight. my aches and sadness and grief feel like more than i could ever bare but yet here they are. my fear feels like a scary dream i canâ...

this is. and i am.

It’s a new morning. And there are a million new pieces of this morning that I could get lost in. I try to keep coming back to my breath. Back to noticing the tension in my shoulders. Back to noticing when I am not breathing. Back to being aware of when a thought takes over and spirals out of control into anxiety or hope. Sitting in front of the fire. Feeling warmth on my face, chilly on my neck. And when I really notice everything I am feeling - thats when I feel more alive, more grateful f...

i feel so much, and it is a gift.

i currently feel so at peace. so alive? i do feel alive. so aware. this is the path, or at least my path. or at least my path now.

i knew it when i went to vipassana. learning how to not hope, to not desire, to not push away the present moment.

abandon hope.

abandon hope.

abandon hope.

hope is something i so often feel and it so often brings me so much excitement. but by hoping i am taking myself away from who i am and where i am and how i am right now. i am alwa...

hanging on.

i'm gonna start sharing some of my B rated rolls.

i cover myself with fear.

fear seeps in.
takes over.
I push push push it away.
it gets worse.
fear seeps in as I wash dishes.
as I take a bath.
as I go to sleep and as I wake up.
my life in shambles.
no idea what I want or where I’ll go.
how I’ll live.
who I’ll talk to,
dance with,
fuck.
fear seeps in again today
but I have learned what doesn’t work.
this morning,
I lay in bed as it wakes me.
I lay there gentle with it at two a.m.
the way I want it to be wi...

mind, throat, heart, gut

When I wake I feel myself breathing. I wake and walk upwards. Up the sheet covered ice mountain that is just outside my door. Grabbing branch and rock to steady myself with my hands as my feet slip and slide and my knees hit the ground beneath me. Each bang reminds me of a pain in my heart. I remember the meditation this morning; holding my mind, then my throat, then my heart, then my gut.

Memory collides with ice collides with skin.

I ache for all the things unsaid. I remembe...

this isn’t it.

this isn’t it.

the drinking.

it’s just not.

i know this.

and then i go for another bottle.

i said 27 would be my year of sobriety

and then i drank.

but can i try again?

of course i can. i can always try again.

but can i?

i can’t with gideon.

but i can for myself.

and for every other person i love.

it feels like i’m getting it wrong with every one.

and every time i drink.

or take an edible.

...

february polaroids

today grief feels like freedom

today it feels like freedom.

today it feels lighter

and gentler.

today my grief is giving me

a strange peace.

today my grief

feels like a balloon

that was emptied so quickly

but is now filling

and floating

into the cherry pink sky.

today i feel freer

and higher

and today i feel

like i could float off and on

and anywhere i go

i’ll be able to carry grief with me.

because today i am reminded 2022-02-21 15:36:40 +0000 UTC View Post

the breaking let’s the peace in

i want me.

i love me.

i thought sleeping alone would be the hardest part of separating.

but instead it has been a way back to myself.

finger tip against finger tip.

breathing into the four pillows pressed against my body.

a night with no self pleasuring

but self pleasuring in the million little ways that paying attention to your body brings.

self pleasuring by noticing my self.

bringing the erotica into everything

by pausing the erot...

revolutionary to my spirit.

(stream of consciousness writing this morning.

thoughts turned poem. poem turned thoughts.)

Is it all connected?

it feels like it’s all connected.

every

little

thing.

in my moment of greatest sorrow

everything feels so meaningful.

weaved together

so perfectly....

it all gets lighter

hannah and andrew take me in for the longest.

one night we get high and i sit in between them.

thighs snd palms and arms touching and linked.

i think they really love me,

i wish it was something i knew instead of something i thought.

a panic attack comes on?

but by now i’ve learned to feel okay with the attacks.

somewhat okay.

they let me talk.

and it really feels like it’s okay to be saying everything i say.

i cry.

it hurt...

spun into each other

always aching.

aching for the life i had;

yes.

but more than that,

aching for the life i thought COULD be

with gideon

aching for the years and minutes and breaths put into something that was never returned.

aching for reciprocity.

aching to be held.

aching for all the years that i was in mourning but didn’t know how to talk about it.

didn’t know how to or if it was okay

that i was always aching for something more.

mor...

what is language for?

what the fuck is language for? its not for being perfect. its for communicating. for connection, for being WITH another human in a more truthful way. but when the focus is on correct grammar and correct wording and correct punctuation - that connection is already gone. when the focus is on being right when there is only one way to be right, was there ever even a focus on connecting? or just to make sure we’re staying in the programmed world designed for us to fail? was the focus just on pro...

spinning, throbbing.

my mind is throbbing.

home.

in the house,

alone.

spinning

spinning

spinning

spinning in the car

spinning on the dance floor

spinning in the house

around and around and around

looking for that camera,

trying to fix my website,

what to pack?

where are the diapers?

learning how to breathe again.

in

out

in

out.

l o n g e r m e r e d i t h

in…

out…

in…

poem from February 8th 2022

Nalcoah asleep in a strange room.

i walk out to the living room with everyone else.

i drink.

i drink more.

and more.

7 glasses total throughout the night.

Emmy and Dawson come in.

Emmy puts Auren to sleep in the bed with Nalcoah.

Emmy reading my poem, my mouth dries up.

her reading it with me in the room

and so many others in the room

was the most exhilarating feeling.

i want to hear her read all my poems out loud.

...

Pretend Artists Night

a friend of mine had a "pretend artists club" and I was able to attend the first meeting where we shared pieces of our art that we have been working on or something brand new. I find when I am prompted to create for a specific reason, I thrive.

One morning while in Ohio with Nalcoah, as I am figuring out the direction my life will take now, I was inspired by a dream for the first few lines and wrote this poem. Which then turned into pouring out my heart into the lines.

...

another weekend

another weekend

another couple days where i am floundering trying to figure out what to do and where to go.

who to stay with

who really wants me? or is okay with me being in their home?

another weekend another couple days trying to figure out if ill be okay alone in the house with the animals in the walls

in the house far away from anyone i’ve ever known

in the house designed for three

purple roll from two years ago

thank you.

i want to make a post and just say thank you to everyone who has been sticking around through these months of me basically not existing on this platform. the support is noticed, constantly. especially now.

i’m not sure what i want to say or share about how the last few months have been for me. but i’ve been writing constantly and i am hoping to turn it into a book of some sort soon. whenever i have the time and space to organize it all.

there is nothing i...

are our shadows allowed

the last of summer (a morning)

re-uploading some of these photos because patreon doesn’t like seeing buttholes. so censored like i would for instagram.

i am so unorganized i couldn’t even find all of these photos. 🥴 someone help! send tips! haha like those have ever worked for my brain.

a few more from acadia.

apple tree

is it me?

i stayed at my moms for a week in september. i needed some space and time in a different scene. this was my first time staying there for a week in years and i wasn't prepared for the amount of flashbacks and old habits and mindsets to come back up like they did. nalcoah was with me, which made it ever the more lovely and ever the more difficult, like most things in parenting.

i took some self portraits in my favorite room in the house amidst the chaos of a platitude of emotio...