Sunday, December 10, 2017

Depression's a Bitch

This is supposed to be a happy time.

This is supposed to be a time of hope, joy, waiting, expectation and love.

It's supposed to be but for me, it's not.   I can hardly see through the tears as I  write. Regardless of the love of my children, some close and dear friends, I am engulfed by absolute sadness, loneliness, and utter desperation.

I am over sensitive to personal remarks made that I am supposed to laugh at.  I don't know how I am managing it, but I  am very close to telling people to fuck off.

I will go to work tomorrow, put on the face, wear the pearls and tell anyone who asks that I am 'absolutely fine'.

Reality is that I know I have once again, sunk into a depression and that weaning myself off anti-depressants over the last few months really was not a good idea.

I am tired but I will,  as I promised my daughter yesterday, go to the doctor this coming week because I really am beyond putting a brave face on it. and not finding joy in anything around me.

I try to be positive but wonder if it's all worth it.

I wrote the following in 2009.

The Jester

The quiz I took


Said
In Medieval times
I was a jester
Today
A natural entertainer
One who can
Raise a laugh from the toughest
The quiz I took
Said
In Medieval times
I was a jester
Today
A maker of friends
One who knows
The popular rich and powerful
The quiz I took
Said
In Medieval times
I was a jester
Today
A political animal
One who can play
The diplomatic game
The quiz I took
Said
In modern times
I am an actor
Or world leader
One who is good
At getting along
The quiz I took
Did not say
In modern times
The actor in me
Like the jester of old
Masks the tears
Wears the smile
And hides the pain


� BML J
Trinidad, WI 


January 2009 ©










2 comments:

  1. As a frequent visitor to the sea of depression I know of what you speak. I remember your poem which really hit me because I think the same quiz told me I had been a jester. And I know that to be true. I have come to see my depressions as the ying to my yang. It is where the poet resides and even my sometimes macabre humor. The sadness is what fuels my photography and painting. And it also is one of the reasons for our closeness all these years on the internet. We are soul sisters in so many ways. I apologize for taking so long to see this blog. I am sorry for your sadness but happy to see you writing again; speaking truth to my soul.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am thinking of you Bee. You are a good and kind soul and stronger than you realize. I agree with your daughter that it is a good idea to see your doctor. Sending hugs your way.

    ReplyDelete

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