How did I make you cry?

So your friend, your mother, your sister, your brother etc are depressed. And you call them with the best intentions. You are calling to give them support, offer your love and devotion, tell them that they are not alone. And yet at the end of the call when they are sobbing and assuring you it is not your fault, you are stuck wondering what the fuck you did.

You were nice. You said the right words, your mouthed the right platitudes, but in the end, you just do not get it.

Depression is not easily understood. You cannot talk to someone else about it. You cannot ask them for their experience. Because what they have gone through I have not! My loathing and disgust has no bearing on someone else’s. I am angry and no,  I will not benefit from talking to someone because at 44 years old, I already know all the shit that is wrong with me. I know my triggers and I know that my dad was an asshole but that is another story.

I have spoken to therapists and counsellors.  I have gorged my pain and reiterated the loathing. That is no longer the issue here. The issue is my seratonin levels are fucked up. There is something wrong with my brain chemistry. And I am okay with that. What I need to do is suck it up and accept it.

But this post is not really about me. It is for those who are confused because they reached out, they were supportive, they wanted to understand and yet you sobbed, you stammered, you made no sense. And the whole reason behind that is that they were nice to you. It is the niceness that is the killer. For my sake……this might not be for all who live with depression so sound it out first…..do not be nice to me.

Baby Bro

I have always looked for comfort, not for partnership

It has always been easier to be the one who cares

Not the one who receives care because well that is just silly.

I was seven when my circumstance changed,

I was fourteen when I rebelled and fucked my brother up

I swore that he would never age the way that I did

And yet what did I do, I left the house, I ran away

he felt responsible and that broke my heart.

He and me we are the same……

he just doesn’t want to know.

I love that boy with all my heart

he is my rock, my guardian, he is my brother.

 

Acceptance

I brood, and I snarl with disgust, watching you slither

your voice is but a whine pitched deep in my ear

a whine that I want to stop

a whine replaced by a blade?

Pin pricks dotted with blood

you yelp and you disclaim

Am I suppose to hear your sorries

am I suppose to really believe you are sane?

I know the voices I hear are my own

there are no others within my head

So here is the fear that you must accept

I am always going to make you pay.

 

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

March 2/17

 

Look Away

Beneath my skin bloody gouges

unseen by those who say that they care

As long as the story matches the faces

they don’t need to acknowledge.

Do you hear my silent plea for help?

my eyes are bruised with fear, desperation

I stink of sweat hoping that you will notice

Unable to project my voice.

You can read about me in the paper

the guilt that I swear I hope eats

My child the one you cooed over

motherless because you did not speak…..

you did not act and make a report……

tonight was the night that the violence burst free

and tonight was the night I needed someone to see.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

3/2/17