I have no idea which way to go. Every choice is going to be a long winding journey, and right now they all look the same. I am not even certain there is a “right” direction, or if there is success and security down any of these paths. I just need to take the first step, but which way?
Yesterday I posted a poetry reading by Catalina Ferro called Anxiety Group. If you missed it I would strongly encourage you to check out that post and give it a listen. It is very very good. After hearing it I listened to some more of her readings and would like to share a couple of them with you here also.
The first is funny and relevant to this blog. In a sort of sideways manner it discusses anxiety in the real world, but it will make you laugh at the same time. I hope you enjoy Emergency Exit Row:
The second is only relevant in the sense that I not so subtly continue to refer to religion and my internal spiritual conflicts. When this rant started I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but by the end I was being moved by the power and truth in her words. Give this a couple minutes before you give up on it.
Don’t forget to vote!!
I am not sure I have ever heard it said any better. I am particularly fond of the references to Insomnia and Klonopin.
A week or so ago I published that long string of loosely connected thoughts describing my own version of anxiety plagued insomnia. I said I was going to use it as a brainstorming platform to put together a real poem. I had been looking into poetry formats trying to understand things like rhythm and meter, and thought it might be interesting and challenging to try and write poetry that followed some set structure. I have to admit I only marginally understood what I was reading, and began to get really lost on the stressed syllable stuff. I know it’s not all that hard, but I have trouble reading about it. If I could actually hear it conversation I have no doubt it would be clear to me. I said I would share the poem here when it was done. Over the last week I have come to understand that it will never be done so I will share in today’s form. Continue reading
I have seen others do this and have always found it interesting. Saturday night I was again thrust into the misery of insomnia. It didn’t last as long as those endless nights in July, but it was accompanied by repeated cyclic anxiety attacks. It was uncomfortable and I found myself wishing I could find a way to explain what it felt like. I began to narrate a stream of consciousness in my head, and the following day I sat down to capture the feelings and sensations of a restless night.
What follows is grammatical gibberish. Is it free form poetry? I have used this as a baseline to begin writing an actual poem. I have never written a poem with actual rhythm or meter. I thought I would give it a try. If it actually gets finished I will share it here if folks promise to be gentle. So here it is, a collage of thought and feeling… Continue reading
He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you. –Bob Marley
The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for. – Bob Marley
Yesterday I shared a piece of writing from back in college that was written before I was in an active battle with depression and anxiety. It showed that I was allowing my mind to spend time is some dark places back before depression was running my life, and that I have been struggling with making the “right” decision for years. Last night I was reading through a Word document in which I had brainstormed on “paper” before I wrote that essay. I was thinking that maybe I should post these raw thoughts when I came to the bottom of the screen and found a poem. Now to be clear I am no poet or even fan of poetry for that matter. I have stumbled across some that I enjoyed, Robert Frost The Road Not Taken comes directly to mind, but mostly I just don’t “get” poetry. This poem, and I use the term loosely, does give another window into where my brain was as I approached graduation and the reality of what that would mean began to sink in.
Its strength is immeasurable growing stronger with
every puppet that falls in line. It forces conformity
from all it can, and destroys all that it cannot.
It sucks the energy from everything around it
destroying what is unique with its unyielding power
forcing its will upon all.
What is its plan for me? Will it bury me with its
fantastic power? Can I be who I want to be? or
just another puppet on a string?
Tiptoeing Around The Abyss 