I'm disappointed in myself today. I continue to wander away from my writing. I'm so fucking competitive and needy.... needy of your approval. Needy of your comments and your praise. I have to stop bullshiting and just, fucking, write.
I feel like swearing today. I don't care what you think about that. I'm angry. This is what I do when I'm angry and its better than fixing a drink or kicking the dog or cheating on my husband or shopping or eating obsessively.
I've been prostituting myself (again). Joining sites, commenting, in hopes that they'll follow me. I feel dirty today.
YES...you've guessed it....I'm emotional. Kerry's death anniversary is hitting me hard this year. I can't tell you why, it just is. And thats okay.
He'd be disappointed if he knew how far I've strayed (he knows). I'm sorry Kerry. From now until the 27th (see, I'm trying to be realistic) I promise to write from a deep place...write as though no one is reading... I love you Sparky, I know you're here but I miss you TERRIBLY....
"Self Portrait" by Kerry Magann
I started my day trying to redefine myself. I wanted to update my "About Me" so that it showed a more honest me. If you've been here before, you'd probably never read it, so I'm making it today's post.
About Me, Honestly... written a week before the 8th anniversary of my son's death.
I am having a difficult time defining myself - even at 50, and after intense therapy.
Writing is something I kept hidden until I read Kerry's eulogy to a half filled church.
I was so angry that day.
WHAT, you couldn't take time off from your busy fucking schedules to come to my son's funeral! FUCK YOU!!! FUCK ALL OF YOU!!!
What I wrote for Kerry was my truth, in that moment - honest, heart wrenching, frantic.
And so, with that said...
My name is Shannon E. Kennedy. Without the "E" its hard to say.
I am married to an extremely patient man. I worry about him dying. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night to check his pulse. I don't want him to leave me. I need him.
I have a seriously beautiful daughter with a fierce, forgiving, nurturing, spirit. I'm trying really hard NOT to worry about her. Each night before I go to bed and first thing each morning, I surround her with glowing, healing light. I visualize her healthy, happy, whole and thriving.
My son, Kerry, guides me from an all knowing place. His death teaches me how to live.
My loyal companions - Kittay and Miss Lucy, support me (emotionally, neither of them has ever had a job) through the warmth and depth of their eyes.
I live in Greenwich, Connecticut because my father is here. His approval, love and attention has always been important to me. When I'm near him, I feel safe.
I want to write a book and yet, I don't read books. I'd like to. I'd love to say, "Oh, did you read THAT...wasn't it WONDERFUL...isn't she BRILLIANT..." but I can't seem to focus long enough to finish most.
I haven't given up. I'm currently reading Galway Bay, by Mary Pat Kelly. I've been reading it for 6 months. It's a LARGE historical novel. It's wonderfully written and easy for me to follow - but whenever I'm reading it I walk away feeling small.
I honestly don't know if I'll ever finish this book of mine - especially since I have no FUCKING idea how to write a book. I'm damn good at eulogies, and letters to close friends, and I've been pretty proud of some of my blog posts - but I have no FUCKING idea how to write a book.
Don't suggest I read a book on it (that would be silly). Yes, I've attended workshops and lectures, and classes...I've talked to writers, I've listened, but I still don't get it.
I haven't given up. I recently started watching a VLOG about writing - short snippets of information -perhaps that will help.
Alright, thats enough purging for one morning. Besides, I'm bored with tears. Please don't feel sorry for me. I am not a victim. I am a mother, wife, friend, writer... [following] my a true, authentic, path.
Time to focus on that book of mine.
in an effort to find an opening image - I typed "HONEST" in a "google image search" and this is what appeared...
Kerry (Mr. ALL about 27) hated the cowboys, he was a HUGE Redskins fan.
Proof, to me, that he supports my growth, daily.
(hey, thats body paint - incase you didn't notice)
Green Monkey Tales © 2010 Shannon E. Kennedy
Images courtesy of Google Image
for reading and commenting