Finally, Someone Understands This Sentiment

Trust yourself. A diagnosis of a mental illness somehow diminishes this ability. Saps your self-confidence. You lose your sense of self. This is one of the worst residuals of a psychiatric diagnosis and most shrinks don't get it. Part of the treatment morphs into part of the disease. It's almost intractable after it's happened.

~Sandy Naiman

*I know I've kept this blog for my own poetry writing, but honestly, these words struck me so much that they may as well be poetry. Thanks Sandy

To D.

You're ashamed
And I want to hold you
But you're locked in a cell
No matter where you are
Always imprisoned
You've lived your life
Like a trapped wolf
Trying to chew it's leg off
And it's over
Time to be free
You can't yet see that
But the sun still rises
Followed by the moon
And each day
That passes
The chemicals slowly balance out
But it's slow
Because there is no catalyst
But I swear to you now
That just like the moon rises
Bringing with it the night
The sun will rise
Soon after
Hold on, okay?

My Big Sister

Fear
Only fear
Just fear
But this fear
Has become a big sister
Holding me close at night
And whispering sweet nothings
In my ear
Promising me
She is only concerned with my safety
And I take her advice
But something is wrong
And my maternal
Self-imposed guide
Has revealed herself
Limiting
Critical
Controlling
And I want to
Run with bravery
Through this life

Hibernate

Go because I must
Do things because I can't not
There are no options
And I am hateful
Yet grateful
Because in my nihilistic existence
My only goal
Is to not break their hearts
But I can't see anything
Under the snow
And would rather hide
Under blankets
With the lights out
Blind to the world
And my heart
Drifting into peaceful sleep
With vivid dreams
Until I dreamt no more

Fucking Winter.

A gray, dreary day
Calm
Not accompanied by peace
But rather with malaise
Ennui
and boredom
Intolerable frustration
With a lack of motivation
My soul has taken on its bleak environment
Using the snow as a blanket
And freezing up
This time, however
There are no circular white 125 mg lifeboats
For quick escape from this sinking ship

Clinging to memories of a recent past
When I confessed
To myself
To him
And to the universe
That I had found renewed hope
Which had escaped me for quite a while
It seems but only a dream
As most things do
And I'm tempted to ask him
If this is one of those things
That really happened
Or if I merely dreamt it

Prodded earlier
To try to figure out
What I was going to do with my life
I gave out half-assed, vague
Insincere responses
Because this all-consuming ennui
Makes me only hope
That life ends soon
Tired, bored, frustrated
And wondering even if
I had those horrific little lifeboats
Would I even have the energy
To paddle anywhere?

The Experiences of Elders (Or, 'Maybe Jon Doesn't Really Yearn to Leave Kate and their Kids)

The elders of our lifetime
Are supposed to have all the answers
By virtue of the fact
That they've been there before

But its one life
In one lifetime
One experience
One path

What if
There are more paths?
Many experiences?
Many souls?
Many outcomes?

Where do you look for guidance
When your heart is inexperienced
And the hearts of others
Have been tainted
Biased
By pain
And betrayal
And death
And all the things
Life inevitably brings us
Though we clamor desperately
To avoid them
Navigating life
Like walking through
A minefield

My heart can't be right
Because at best
It's an estimated guess
More likely however
Just an optimistic
Hopeful
Idea
An ostrich sticking its head in the sand

Theirs, though
Has all possibilities
Narrowed into the one
That happened
Does that mean
Other possibilities
Were never possibilities at all

They say
There's something to be said for experience
Is that just because
It's merely a compass for
Navigating the minefield?

And maybe its time to take
This one life
One lifetime
One experience
And stop seeing it
As a minefield
And start
Welcoming every dent
Bruise
Tear
This heart will encounter

I'll shed tears
And call it living
I'll become angry
And call it my true self
And then I'll repress it all
Telling myself
That none of this
NONE OF THIS
Ever mattered
In the first place

Remember, Darling, You Just Have to Let Go of the Outcome

What if
It isn't over
Because it was never over
And will never ever be over?
What if
The smile is always a facade
Because that's all it ever was
And all it can ever be?
What if
This is all just a delusion
Just like optimism
Or religion?
And what if honesty
The very thing you're convinced
Will make me more attractive to you
Is the same thing
That will make you turn away?

Good Riddance Asshole

I smile
Because like a wildcat who realized
He'd rather chase than hunt
And left his prey unharmed
He's gone
You're sad
Because an imposing, extreme man
Has proved himself to be imposing and extreme
And you can't understand why

Confession

I stole his favourite shirt
One night while he was sleeping
To adorn the life-sized voodoo doll
I had built of him
The shirt is destroyed now
Ripped all through the chest

....I hope in the midst of the heart attack
He doesn't notice his shirt is missing

Phone Turmoil

Last week, you promised me you'd call
So I waited by the phone
Waited and waited
Telemarketers kept calling me
But you never did
Just telemarketers
Wanting money, wanting time, wanting something
I got so sick of it all
That I ripped the phone cord right out of the wall
And smashed the phone into little bits
That was last week
You still haven't called me
But then again
No one has

Love is Never Unconditional

You had always said
You were accepting
For a while, you were
You accepted
That I'm a pathological liar
That I killed a stripper one night
Even that I'm xenophobic
But... that third eyeball
In the back of my head
Hidden by my hair
Well... you weren't so accepting about that

Paradoxical

Finally, it feels like
We got something right somehow
Amidst the fighting
And the arguing
And the debating
Opposite ends of the spectrum
... And we've never been closer

The Possibilities are Endless..

The end of the semester
I feel alive
I am free
I can do anything!
So I'm reading internet comics
And watching tv-
a show about women who are getting plastic surgery
because they are unhappy with the aging process
I'd like to tell them a little secret...
... we are all going to die anyways...
Or perhaps just whisper in my best stage voice
That they look like clowns now
With an unnatural nose and ungodly huge lips

Morally Speaking...

Last night we concluded I was a nihilist
So nothing matters
What I do doesn't matter
What you do doesn't matter
And that I accidentally ran over your cat with my car...
... That doesn't matter either.

The Path of a Merry-Go-Round Horse

Merry-go-Rounds
By virtue of being a
Merry-Go-Round
Always move in a circular motion

Last night we moved
Completely in sympatico
As we explored each others' bodies
Inside and out
In ways that left us sweating
And gasping
And wanting more

And when you tried to access
My proverbial cavities
I painted you a lovely impression
Rivaling anything Monet ever did
That left you wanting more
In the worst kind of way

You held your head in your hands
As my heart silently broke
Deep within my chest
My willingness to show you everything
Cheapened because I won't let you see through my eyes

You don't ask why anymore
But I haven't stopped my search
For not just any answer
But the answer

Is it because I learned
Emotion is a tsunami
Waiting to wipe out
All your objextivity
Not to mention your sanity
Quicker than a heartbeat?

We sit now
You
Satisfied and unsatisfied
In a sick paradox
That is my creation
And I
Yearning
For the Merry-Go-Round horse
Which I've put you on
To break off this cyclical ride
And take flight
Rocketing you
Into my universe