The last couple of weeks have shown me with intense clarity that I have been on a rollercoaster of disempowerment that started with a client suiciding over two years ago and ended in a big crash over the smallest loose screw a few days ago.

 So the roller coaster crashed. Into a maze.

 If you look at the ‘made by’ sticker on the bottom of the maze you’ll find ninety percent society enforced, ten percent Leesa.

 In absolute honesty and years of intense personal scrutiny I announce I did not build this entrapment.


 Two days ago, early in the morning, after waving my currently rather difficult son off to the school, I sat with the knowledge that my bank balance was unexplainable minus, the pantry was empty, the body out of whack, an addiction was winning, I had no idea about how I was going to make sure my kid ate this weekend and all with the knowledge that an institutional service wants me to seek “understandable disability status”.

 But none of this was as bad as the sense of absolute exhaustion and victimization I felt. And rage. Anyone whose known my life knows I am not a wimp. I’ve pulled myself out of some whirlpools before.

But the facts are undeniable that over the last year every time I’ve struck out to escape the maze something has occurred outside of my control to kick me straight back into it.

 And then, the other morning, I went into town. And a newish friend saw me and said;

 “Why aren’t you looking after yourself? Why are you hiding?’

 Little did she know I could have slapped her down right there and then :). Lucky for us both that I’d learnt over my forty-seven years that folk who shit us the most are usually our greatest angels!

 And I knew, despite all my righteous indignation…despite all the absolutely justified reasons to bow my head under the weight of it all…despite all my justified righteous rage, despite my medical conditions…

 Only I can look after me.

So it has always been.

So it is.

 Thus, in that vein, in order to put some ghosts to bed I wrote.

It may not have personal meaning to you but I share it because I know there are many of us right now, sitting in pain…justified pain…and feeling all the rage and grief like I’ve experienced.

  Clearly I am not a poet. I am speaking to no one and everyone…to specific incidences and vague temptations. You know who you need to speak too.

 Don’t Pull me down.  Not with your hate. Not with your god. Not with your penis

 Don’t Pull me down. Not with your alcohol. Not with your judgement. Not with your pity.

 Don’t Pull me down. Not with your rules. Not with your baggage. Not with your lies.

 Don’t Pull me down. Not with your prejudice. Not with your power trips. Not with your projection.

 Don’t Pull me down. Not with your budget. Not with your cost cutting. Not with your business model.

 Don’t Pull me down. Not with your suicide. Not with your cruelty. Not with your economic imperative.

 Don’t pull me down. Not with your diagnosis. Not with your drugs. Not with your sympathy.

 And Please don’t Pull me down with your prophecies of doom.

 I am woman Hear me roar 

 I am that I am.

I will be That I am

And I’ll be fucked if I’ll let it be any other way!

Only you can care for you.

Only you can smash the maze.

Only you can create the life You want Your way.

Doesnt matter how much we desperately want it to be different it aint! So come on, Join me wont you?


7 thoughts on “DON’T PULL ME DOWN

  1. Pingback: This is More Important « Leesis Ponders

  2. Leesa, thanks for your bravery in sharing this. I, too am on a very low income and sometimes fear I won’t be able to feed my son. The nice, clean internet hides those things very well, and a neat blog site can make one look successful. (Whatever your definition of ‘success’ may be.)

    I totally agree that only we ourselves can fix our lives. I relate to your sense of having to pick yourself up again. I also find that I really need friends to support me as I do that. If there’s a spiritual reality out there, as I sometimes think there may be, then possibly I can gain strength from that too.

    I suppose all I’m trying to say is “You have been heard.”



  3. I hear that! Dunno what your “disability” is, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, and I’m seeing now that the last 6 to 7 years of my life have revovled around that, one way or the other. Things I couldn’t do, things I wanted to do, the feeling that you can go on for more but can’t… People try to judge me by their own standards, and I very often hears things like “why don’t you do your hoovering and mopping after work?” “Why don’t you leave for a couple of days?” and others, on that tune. I have stopped explaining why I am “less” than everyone else, I’d rather seem slothy and lazy than excuse myself for a condition I never chose to be in. I am joining in, and my personal desire is to stop caring about what people think. *many hugs*

    • welcome on board :). We all have our challenges hey but yeah stop worrying about others. What do you think of you? Thats the only question that matters. Hugs back at ya sister

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