On Depression

Hi lovely readers! It’s been a while since I’ve posted; the election season left me fatigued, especially with the sad results, and fall semester coming to a close has been hectic. I was struggling to think of interesting topics, but it’s time I come back and share a few new ideas. Coming up will be a review of Arrival, a political post and more. For now, there was a poem of sorts I found in my journal recently that I started writing months ago, and so I decided to finish it. It’s about my clinical depression and although it’s quite personal, I feel it’s also important to talk about.

Before

It was dark  nothing but dark

And there was a maze

Which stretched throughout

The inside of my mind

Leading into my heart

Winding through my body

Until it was nothing

But a tangled web

I lost myself

In the sheer size of it

My mind running in circles

Seeking a way out

Not understanding what this was

And the maze kept expanding

No one could see

The tangled web

But how could they

It lay deep inside me a secret thing

I was angry

I yelled

I taunted my family

Smashed plates on the ground

And fists into walls

I cried out for help

In all the wrong ways

Words seemed to dissipate on my tongue

I spat venom

But not the truth

The only way to go

Was down

Because surfacing seemed impossible

So I closed my eyes

And let myself sink

After

At some point

A few years ago

I resurfaced

Through a letter

That final call for help

Something in me was tired

Of silence

And so began the talking

The working through it

The diagnosis

The prescriptions

Sofas, tissues, charts, questions

“How are you feeling today?”

“Why do you think that is?”

It took a while

To be able to talk

Openly

Comfortably

But slowly

I’ve changed

Moved a bit forward

Towards something

Other than pain and anger

Some days it’s hard

There are roadblocks

Glitches

Mistakes

And sometimes

It feels as if

I’m in an odd state

Of both progress and stagnation

It’s complicated

Trying to piece yourself

Back together

Some pieces

Don’t fit anymore

And you have to

Throw them away

Creating something new

Something you might not recognize

Or didn’t think

You could create

And there are days

When I worry

If I’ve hurt my family

Beyond repair

If my sisters

Will forgive

The words the things

I’ve said and done to them

And I’m surprised

When they do

At the depth of their love

I’m a long way

From  “Before”

Yet I’m a long way

From an “Everafter,” an “end” of sorts

But I guess there really is

No “end” so to speak

It’s just a process

A journey

A series of attempts

At getting better

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