Deny

Deny
Deny
Deny
Strings
tangled
tripping
wrapping
someone’s marionette
made to dance
made to cry
made to speak
mouthpiece for the weak.
Deny…..
Deny…..
Deny…..
Such a pretty puppet
stripped of humanity
stripped of morals
stripped of value
insipid
sitting upon the mantle.
Deny…..
Deny…..
Deny…..
Twisted screams
incoherent babbling
mask made of ivory snow
vivid slashes
carmine lips
curved in
curved up
false as an idol.
Deny…..
Deny…..
Deny…..
Words written
spoken
lies
contorted
made into the truth
failed fake
hung up
a prize for all to see.
Deny…..
Deny…..
Deny…..
Broken
battered
strings shatter
agent for the beast.
Drained
defiled
defeated
pretty little princess
tossed aside
left upon the garbage heap.
Deny…..
Deny…..
Deny…..
©May 5/19
Picture via Pinterest found by The Eclectic Contrarian

Serenity

Like a small child

hunkered down

hiding

dreading the blow to come

so do you

make yourself so big

so boistrous

that all are distracted by the gloss.

The pains are less

washed down with spirits

with tainted love

drowning in disbelief

how did it come to this?

Within

I see the potential

I see the man you could rise to be

if only….

you gave yourself a chance

if only….

you realized happiness could be ours

if only…..

you could see yourself

through my eyes.

Understanding gained

pain released

hold me close

never let go

your serenity I will always be.

 

 

The Beast Within

The confidence that people see in me, it is fake. The charming smile and happy chatter, I make it all up as I go along. I have learned how to hide the side of me that makes people uncomfortable, the side the requires a little more maintainence than the fake side because no one really wants to know.

My last major depressive episode was almost three years ago now and it was a doozy.  I woke up one Saturday morning and I despised myself.  There was no reason for this but the depth of hatred I felt is incomprehensible today. I began to cry and I could not stop. I was suppose to work that evening and as I sat on the toilet hating myself, tears coursing down my face I could not see the end to the tunnel.

Over a three day period of seeing my doctor and facing some wicked accusations at work and at home, I was done.  I had sunk so deep into the morass I did not even know at that time if I could climb out of the pit that I found myself in. I was put on medical leave from work. I was put on medication and a counselor was found for me. For the first three weeks I was home all I did was sleep, twenty-three of twenty-four hours I was curled up in my bed, ignoring my son, my now ex-husband, my friends, my life. When I was awake I sat in front of the t.v. or the computer, because it was mindless and I did not have to think.

Slowly as the medication began to work and my serotonin levels evened out, I began to crawl towards the light. I thought that maybe I might live through this. That I might actually be alright.  And it was a long journey. It was a slow journey.  I had to confess to my mom my addiction to codeine that I had the year my father died and how I almost killed myself. Not intentionally but I came close. My rotti Nero saved my life that day.

I had to face up to a lot of hard truths about myself. I had to rediscover myself and the parts of me that I had buried for so long. Because that is a part of what depression is. For myself at least. I lose myself in how others perceive me and I am not true. I do not express my anger or sadness but tamp it down so no one really knows what is going on. And truth be told I am not really a good sharer of my feelings.  I talk a lot but for the most part I keep others talking so I do not have to.

I live with this savage beast daily. When I have down days, I wonder is this the start of another episode? When I have super good days  in a row, not just one, but several, I wonder if I am going into a manic episode? Do others view me as unstable? I know that I bounce around a lot and can be hyper but  I never know really if it is the illness or my natural state of being.

I no longer fear the stigma of depression and anxiety. I no longer worry that the beast within is going to destroy me. I have not conquered him but he no longer has his claws dug into my soul, squeezing the colors from my life. We seem to have come to an uneasy agreement. On occasion I will allow him a brief moment of freedom, but than I reseal him tightly into the vault that I have built. On the days that I allow him out, I take a mental health day and curl up on my bed and cry myself to sleep. Those are the days that I really wish to have someone, anyone hold me and just say ‘You will get through this. You have the strength.’ However as I do not share these days it is unlikely to happen.

The beast within. It has the power to drag me under and keep me there but I refuse to bow down to his desires.