the drain that is my brain…
published by Jean May 20, 2010
I have accepted the crapfact that depression
will never leave me alone. It is part of me.
*
damn you old black dog
wearing me out and down like
river rubbed canyon
*
There is nothing to be done about it except
endure. Over and over and over again.
*
tomorrow looks less
than worthy after today’s
vain forward struggle
*
Pep-talks from well meaning friends don’t help.
*
come along, you say.
you know precisely my need.
arrogant bastard
*
It makes it very difficult to be nice so I often hide.
*
it’s worse somewhere else
for many someone elses.
today I don’t care.
*
It turns me into someone I don’t like at all and I can’t help it.
*
do you doubt despair
can twist the heart, wring the soul,
blind all hope? You fool.
*
It sneaks up and every time I ask why.
*
you think you know
the reason, the answer, the
why. until this now.
*
I’ve read a gazillion books and been to therapy.
*
regurgitation
of all the pretty words ends
in ugly dry heaves
*
Remember the time I went to a shooting range and
enjoyed shooting and did very well? Did anyone
think it strange that I did not buy a gun?
*
it is not so hard
to understand that there are
some who will resign
*
It feels like living in hell and a glorious relief
when it subsides.
*
to wax poetic
do you mind much when I swear?
tough shit if you do.
A heavy weight to carry around.
You must be made of tough stuff to manage it and still produce the word magic that so many here enjoy and admire.
“word magic”…no bigger compliment for a writer. Thank you.
“arrogant bastard”
Indeed.
An amateur shrink always ready with the easy answer = the Devil’s own disciple. Keep your own counsel. Generally more useful and reliable in the long run.
Good advice. Learn to trust oneself.
Jean, except through these written pages, we’ve never met, and likely never will.
But I’m glad that you didn’t buy that gun. I accept that your depression is something that you struggle with constantly and don’t pretend to know how difficult that is for you. That you continue going forward fighting against it has value for the rest of us. You wrote a powerful poem.
FWIW, when I was in my 20’s I had a roommate commit suicide by gun, and I was the one who found his body. While I knew that Bill didn’t think that he was measuring up in life, I never knew the depth of his troubles and the word “depression” never once occurred to me. Bill was my friend and I have always been haunted by what I might have said to him, but didn’t, because I didn’t know, that might have helped him go forward.
Please stay with us.
My condolences on the loss of your friend. You have no responsibility for the choice he made. Forgive him and yourself.
I intend to stay around for a long time.
On a different note, something to lift spirits, a whisper of cedar waxwings descended onto my locust trees last week. The trees are close to the house enabling me to enjoy them each morning as I have breakfast. I counted about thirty flitting around on the high branches.
They are very, very social birds. The drop en masse from the branches to a nearby bird bath then all splash around together in the water. The don’t really have a song per se, they have more of a long, thin whistle and they whistle among themselves as they bounce from bath to branches then back down again.
They are birds so sleek and beautiful they seem almost artificial. They get their name from the “wax” red tip on their wings, but their tails also look as if they have been dipped in brilliant citrus yellow paint. They also have a sharp black mask, extending from their beak, across their eyes and up to their crest. The black is narrowly outlined in white, giving them a chic and sophisticated, almost “high fashion” look. They are simply magnificent multi-hued little birds of brown, grey blue, red, black, white and yellow.
Cedar waxwings do everything together. They also appear to share their food. I watched them pass some kind of little flower from one to another along a branch. I’m guessing it is some form of mating ritual. Generally they eat fruit. When they grace my garden in the fall, they occassionally get drunk and rambunctious on fermented crabapples and are quite funny.
What would we do without birds?
Here is an upclose photo showing the waxwing colors.
There was a Japanese plum tree next to the driveway at my house in Florida. It also was swarmed with beautiful, beautiful cedar waxwings. A highlight at the time was to sit on the porch and enjoy everything about them. The best time was approaching dusk when the golden light made the birds glow. Thank you for reminding me.
Folks, your comments are like hugs.
The words in this post were written a long time ago.
Depression is still something I deal with but much less frequently than
before. I really think writing has helped. Given me a sort of release that encourages me to move forward. Make progress. Don’t quit.
Life is good except when it ain’t. Nothing is perfect and it’s not fair to expect
perfect.