Lame Attempt At Poetry

Often said

there’s a fine line

between 

love and hate

between

joys and tears

when all seems lost

up is down

down is up

directions to nowhere

emotions flowing

through her veins

the smell of worry

emits from her pores

incessant thoughts 

that just won’t end

time for action

resistance 

is futile

acceptance 

a dream

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Random Musings ~ 5/4/19

Should I worry that I noticed myself wanting to write 2017 when it’s really 2019? Is there a term for that affliction? Where does one draw the line between simple forgetfulness and the beginning of something worse?

Oh my here we go.

I’m sure I’ve got something … worse … Ugh.

I am switching gears because this is my new thing and I can change the direction of my vicious thoughts anytime I want. Besides the sun is back out so I got nothing to be wa wa about.

I had plans today and I’ve completely blown them off in favor of going through my DVR to catch up, writing, surfing, and everything that is not my original plan.

There is something to this brooding, doom and gloom, and serious introspection that I must truly enjoy to my core. Why else would I do it? It’s filling some kind twisted need. And I’m enjoying myself. And maybe doing nothing doesn’t always have to be a pity party? Maybe doing nothing is a form of self-care?

Yep. That’s it. Now I will close with my lame attempt at poetry.

Wallowing in pity

Serves no purpose

Knowing and doing

Are very different things

What will it take?

To spark some reaction

Why does it have

To be this way?

See y’all on the flip side.

As always more to come.

Confession is Good for the Soul

I feel a restlessness

In my soul

Ready for everything

And nothing at all

Caught in a tail spin

Of perfect deception

Time to get moving

Forgive my transgressions

Folks it has been one of those days, weeks, months, or years <insert Friends theme song so they know you’re okay>.  Some may know the signs.  Good days, bad days, good days, bad days cycling around the hamster wheel of life.  I know what to do to break the cycle but my pig headed stubbornness has got me back here.  To this place I’d rather not be.

Two people in the last two days told me “Nobody Cares” in response to something I care  irrationally but deeply about.  Okay then.  I admit it.  I certainly COULD care less.  I certainly SHOULD care less.  I certainly want to eat a whole sleeve of effing Oreos.

Then I saw where a FB friend posted about the signs of Perfectly Hidden Depression (PHD).  I thought hey, I resemble that remark.  I looked further and found this article.   In the article is a questionnaire that I took.  I scored more than 12 y’all.  Boo for me 😦

However I would say that my D is not PH.  My D has reared its’ ugly head once or twice upon a time.  My current status is power through.  In attempts to be treated, I have admitted a few things to a few people and doing so has always backfired on me.

There is such stigma to needing help.  I would not wish mental illness on my worst enemy but I do wish everyone could have a preview into that dark world to help garner understanding. “Snap out of it” “Get over it” Well duh?  Of course.  Why didn’t I think of that?  I DID!!!  I KNOW!!! But knowing and doing are two different things.

I will close with this.  Don’t cry for me Argentina.  I am one of the lucky ones.  Counting those blessings (classic sign) through gritted teeth.  I have a support system (I try very hard not to use said system) but I have one.  They are worth more than gold.  If you need someone to listen, I am here.  We are not alone.

As always, more to come.

A Poem About Anxiety

Sitting in the metaphorical dirt

That clouds my racing brain

Wondering how I got here

Again and again and again

Nothing seems to work

To keep the doubts at bay

Fear is the only constant

And my tears that I hide away

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know I am not alone.  And I know that my “issues” do not surpass anyone else’s.  All is relative mi amigos and amigas.  For as long as I can remember, my “stuff” wasn’t important.  I dealt by making jokes and minimizing my feelings.  Why should I complain when what is happening to other people around the world is absolutely atrocious?  I mean c’mon.  Read the news.  If you do, you know I got nothing.

Ah but I do.  And the dam is about to break.  My heavy aching flood of emotions have been contained far too long.

As always, more to come.

Lame Attempt At Acrostic #LAAA

Worrying

About

Living

Life

Only

Wastes 

It

Never

Good

Wallowing.  No more wallowing people.  I’m trying to accept that which I cannot change.  I noticed I have been powering through.  I have been over the moon happy.  But is that a good thing? Or is that denial? I have to wonder.  Maybe middle of the road is best?  But not for me.  I am full tilt ON or OFF.

Enjoyed the moon this morning.  Hoping to stay over it.

 

As always, more to come.

Poetry 12/18/18

Clearing out drafts and found this gem.  Very subjective gem of course.  I enjoy my lame attempts at poetry.  A way to soothe what ails me.  Get feelings out on virtual paper instead of festering.

As a mom, I am full of insecurities.  I keep wishing for a do-over.  But that is pointless, the kiddos are 30 and 21 years old.  None of us wants to go backwards. And besides, the here and now is pretty darn exciting.  #ChooseJoy, #NoBiteMe, #NOChooseJoyBitingHurts 🙂

Without further ado and silliness

Pain returns

That really never left

The tears still fall

Full of much regret

No cause for shame

Is what you tell yourself

You did the best you could

Let go

You’re off the hook

 

Writing It Out ~ Lame Attempt At Poetry

The women from Grey’s dance it out.  I write it out.  Today I found a journal of mine from May 2000.  What a blast from the past.

As I strolled down memory lane re-reading my prose, I realized the more things change, the more they stay the same.  So much for growth. I am done.  Not growing.  I am done complaining.  I am tossing my minor cares to the wind.  Grateful for everything I have which is plentiful.

She’s going down

Ready to blow

At the end of her rope

Thinking up things

That may never come true

Not knowing

Which way to move

Damned if you do

Damned if you don’t

Creating inertia

Continue to float

In a sea of morass

All the while knowing

This too shall pass

As always, more to come.

Acrostic

Powerful waves

Adversely affecting

Internal feelings

Never-ending

this can’t be right but supposedly osteoporosis does not cause pain

some days are better than others and today it hurts 😦

Wah, wah.  Boo Hoo.