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With desperate breaths,
fear tinged escape
running through the bleakness
a landscape shrouded in darkness.
Hands before me
scared of what is in front
terrified of what is behind.
Thorns grab my hair,
my clothes,
pinning me to the spot
to this time.
A sliver of line
seen on the horizon
a day that brightens the night
and in morning’s warmth
the demons hid once again.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
January 15/17

Part 3

Time has come
for that part of her
so long hidden
to come forth.
To find within
the ability to forgive.
Forgive herself
for not believing,
for denying,
for crushing her own dreams.
To find within
the ability to love herself.
To care for herself.
To heal herself.
She kneels,
head bowed,
ready to begin.
And within
the chest stirs the heart
the innocence of a child.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
January 14/18


***Mirabel Tiara found on internet***

One of the hardest things that I had forgotten about depression are the ups and downs. How one day I can feel great. I have energy to burn. I want to accomplish things. So I dive right in. Cleaning, organizing, exercising you name it. And I fly.

Than come the down days. Where I am lethargic. I have no desire to move. Eating is difficult. I stare at the t.v. or my phone or write in brief spurts, all so I do not have to think. And the tears. They keep coming. I feel nothing. It is easier that way. Because otherwise, all the pain and emotions that are swirling around inside of me needs to break free, and I can only handle so much.

I have been writing a lot. Little bits and pieces as I make realizations. As I begin to honestly look at my past and can see the consequences of my actions. And the actions of others. After I do something like that, I am exhausted. My poetry comes and goes. Part of me worries that as I am writing about the same thing over and over again, that it is going to sound the same. So I am struggling there. This blog, is the first one that I have written about my depression since Dec. 28th.

When I say I am exhausted, people look at me like what do you mean? How can you be exhausted? You are home all day, doing nothing more tiring than reading/writing/watching t.v., like seriously. Yes seriously, I am the Queen of pushing it all aside. Thrust it deep down inside of me and if I cover it up for long enough, eventually I will forget about it. Yet I do not. It festers within me, eating away at my confidence, my self-worth, my life. Than I begin to look for outlets to avoid dealing with the pain, hence the drinking and drugs. (As an aside, I have found giving up alcohol to be far easier than the pills.)

Now, I am reflecting. Not every hour of every day, but I do. I do not pick the topic, my voice starts talking and I listen. Write. Cry.

There are things that I have not looked at for years. The abuse by my dad. How it was dealt with. That right there is going to be a topic and a half. I do not want to spend a lot of time discussing this aspect because I am bringing that asshole back to life. I do not want to give him that luxury. I will though, as this is going to be the only way that I am ever going to be able to find peace with myself. To be able to let it fade into my past where it belongs. Rather than leaving it to poison me over and over again. Despite my beliefs, I envision my father standing on a tiny rock in the middle of a lave pit and it slowly, excruciatingly rises until he is covered. And throughout the whole thing he can feel the burning of the lava as it sears the bone from his flesh. Repeat. I hate that man so much and yet I love him because he is my dad.

The loss of my daughter when I was 21. Never ever dealt with it besides getting drunk every year on her birthday. So I did not have to deal with the pain. (Are you sensing a theme with me?)

The beginning of my addiction. With this one, I have so much to figure out.

My life in general. Obviously I need to make changes. Positive ones that reflect the direction I want to move in. This means examining every corner of myself and trimming away what no longer works and adding those things that do.

I am angry. I am sad. I can be happy for a time. What I no longer am is the Queen of Denial. (Remember also Queen of Deflection…..I give myself a lot of tiaras)

As painful and hard as this is going to be, I am in it to become better. To learn how to cope healthily when I become depressed/overwhelmed/stressed. I am not naive enough to believe that after this I will never be depressed again for that is not the nature of this disease. However, I will be better prepared and more able to help myself. I will become stronger, braver and more alive. I am going to trade in the denial tiara to become Queen of Acceptance. 🙂

Where goes that child?

Where goes that child?
That golden haired dream,
with silver laughter
and dreams so big.
What tarnished her light,
what blew it out?
Where goes that girl?
That raw bundle of nerves
with words twisting on her tongue
and she knew
that writing was all she would do.
Where goes the dreams of this woman
who lays broken and bleeding
her words restored but her spirit
so long supressed
fights to return,
to merge;
that child,
that girl
with this woman.
Her past fogiven,
her present believed in
and dreams of the future
will heal her heart.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
December 30/17

Blurred Chaos

The blurred chaos surrounds me
sucking everything in
wrecking havoc on my senses.
I want to dig my fingers into my skull
and pull from within
this mass of pink ooze,
that with mere electrical impulses
and levels of seretonin
can reduce me
to this mess.
I want to tear my heart from my chest
yes I realize
not even a realistic portrait
but it is a symbol
of love and loss
pain and sorrow.
I need to be free of the malestrom of emotions
swirling so palpably
a cyclone of my own making.
I want to no longer fear
to no longer deny
I want to be free
I want to be happy.
Jay-lyn Doerksen
December 27/17

To love again

Some days,

I can hear

the soundless whispers of my heart.

A sweet caress,

a gentle understanding

of what I see before me.

Arms around

tightening in protection.

My lion, 

my bear,

my knight in shining armour.

You saw a woman,

broken and beaten

stumbling along the crooked path.

Reaching out ,

you strove to uncover

the love and happiness

that lay shrouded 

beneath the fear and distrust.

Beneath these star lit skies

I dance and whirl

secure in the knowledge

that love 

and you

have found a home again within me.

Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 12/17

Just a question

So on a scale of one to ten:

How creepy is it, if you have ‘that’ special song picked out, but he is not aware of it?

As a matter of fact, he may only have a nodding acquaintance to you?

1 being not at all and 10 being call the cops.