They add up, one on top of another. Dirty house, little free time. Debts that you can never seem to get started on. Between two jobs, make too little. Things breaking down. Costly repairs. Faraway dreams that never gain traction. Faraway friends. Lover growing distant. Nagging mother. Fear of loneliness. Fear of other people. An inability to face the past or the future; maladjusted in the present. Knots everywhere – in my mind, my relationships, my soul. Can’t cleanse it. Feel like roadkill.
that someone would talk to me who isn’t paid to care.
I don’t want meds. They don’t do shit but dim the feelings. Everything still lurks underneath. Everyone still avoids me. I am still a cancerous disease, unfit for this world. Too awkward, too sensitive, too dark, too talkative, too reactive. Meds don’t change shut and they always eventually stop working. It’s such a stupid fucking dance.
I want a real friend who isn’t afraid of me.
I have none.
Every cell in my body is wired to malfunction.
Vodka and sleeping pills when I get paid this Friday. Till then I’m just entertaining the motions.
I don’t know how I can stay afloat in a world that is so harsh and cruel. I can’t seem to pretend, like everyone else, that it’s okay, that I’m okay. I can’t “suck it up.” If I try that, I eventually explode, which is basically what happened last night at work. I’m too weak, too sensitive. No place in the world for someone like that. Even in nursing there is so much bullshit to go around. I just don’t belong anywhere. My efforts are for nothing.
She had come home from Chicago the night before. She, our roommate and I were drinking and watching Archer. I passed out. I came to with a raw cough in my throat like nothing I’d ever experienced. Turns out I threw up in my sleep and Roommate had to roll me over. He pointed to the soiled pillowcase in the laundry basket.
I heard my girlfriend whimpering low. I was the one in her life who knew her for the shortest amount of time, and yet I was the only one who could discern the barely-perceptible difference between her regular whimpers and the ones that indicated […]
I liked to dream that I would wake inside my self ten years younger
with eyes that would blink hope towards the morning sun
without cinder blocks of fatigue or the fine lines of age
I wished against rationality that my decade of torrent and
grievous joyous decadent nothing and destruction and debt and
discovery and growth
could be whisked away for a swift return
to be hugged again by a shell of ignorance
I don’t even remember shedding.
The slam poetry scene in my state has been a veritable haven when I can actually get myself to attend an open mic/slam feature night. I hope this poem can help at least one person like it did for me.
Kait Rokowski – “A Good Day”
http://youtu.be/TjjaIwVxfTw (to see her recite it)
Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between […]
and it’s so painful to see you in such despair.
That this must be our cross to bear, what brings us together as perfect strangers. The black dog on our shoulder. Wish it could be anything else for all of us.
I spent all night last night reading through posts and comments. When I came in I was crying for myself, hoping not to feel the end of my rope once more. I went to bed crying for others, hoping they can somehow find their way back up their rope, and if not, that they can find in death the peace they so crave and deserve. I […]
I’m here because I don’t want to die. I want to believe that I have something to offer this world, and that my current suffering will lead to a day where I can turn it around and use it to help others. Thing is, I’ve been depressed my whole life. I feel like from the moment I was born, I was given a cluster of psychiatric diagnoses instead of a personality. I was a problem to be solved, not a person to be loved. I was not human; I was merely human labels. Autism at first, because I’d rock endlessly in place. Then bipolar, because […]