Toxicity

Friday, October 14, 2022

I feel for my step-mom. We are very similar. In our pain. In our mental state. In our trauma. There are difference, of course. I cut my toxic mother out when I was 23. She’s cutting her’s out today. I can’t imagine holding on for that long.

She came over today to pick up some papers before we left for Reno. I gave her the little mandala painting I finished last night. I spend some time trying to calm her down, as best I could. To reassure her that she was doing the right thing. While we were talking, I started to think about the similarities between our mothers.

It made me think of toxic sludge. Like the glowing green slime in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Secret of the Ooze (still LOVE that movie). So as she sat there, as we talked, without thinking, I grabbed paint. This is a small canvas, 6x6. I grabbed the colors I was feeling during our conversation. Grays, blacks, whites, and - of course - neon green. This is what came out of that paint pour. It’s as if the the paint knew that I didn’t want it to be pretty. It’s what it needed to be. Toxic… just like our mothers.