All Posts, poetry, Uncategorized

The seventh day of Spring.

I called into work for a minor sickness which caused guilt to be had.

My depression brought nostalgia of the worst kind. The past love kind.

My uterine lining decided it was time to be shed.

My tear ducts took it upon themselves to sync with my mind.

I have so much to do.

I cannot think.

I cannot think.

I cannot think.

I am thinking too much.

I am thinking too much.

I am thinking-

what if I quit

what if I-

It became too much, like everything else does.

How brushing my teeth is the same as me climbing the Eiffel Tower.

Maybe if I were climbing the Eiffel Tower-

Reality.

Reality.

Reality.

I laid in my favorite spot until I became paralyzed.

I was paralyzed but my mind was trying out for the cheer squad.

And by that I mean, I wish I were as happy as the cheer squad.

And by that I mean, I have always hated the cheer squad.

I did not want to be there but where else would I go?

I wanted to go somewhere fun but my mind was saying no.

What if my mind pressed the escape button-

Oh, dissociation, the second cousin to depression.

I didn’t know I invited his cousin…

Dissociation is doing well today, we talked about the weather and whether…

or not I should delete all my social media, die, quit, cry, scream, eat, explode, or all of the above while my actual mind does its part.

But separately. Obviously.

Depression told dissociation that even though they are cousins that he was fine at this party alone.

But family does not listen and neither do…

my thoughts because they like to be as independent as I portray myself to be.

My party, my meltdown, my crisis, was winding down.

Or was it.

Or was it.

Or was it.

The spring air is wild with pollen and my nose is fine but my mind is not.

I’ve never heard of a pollen-induced mental breakdown.

But there is a first for everything.

And for the first time, let’s not blame this all on the weather but rather the whethers.

 

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