depression

February 14, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

where do these sads come from?
and where do they go when they leave my head?
because, without them, i swear they never existed at all
but with them…

with them, they are
all i’ve ever known
and all i’ll ever have
and the desolation brings with it such desire
to run
to hide
to thwart off
to give in
(even though the only thing that truly helps
is simply
waiting it out,
feeling it,
but waiting it out)

but worse
i think
than the fullness
of with
or without
are the days when i can feel the sads
simply
laying in wait
they’ve not left
but they aren’t overwhelmingly there
everything just feels too
grey to hope
too
stale to cope
too
desolate to even try
to have a good day.

at least when the sads are at their
full force
it’s something;
it’s a feeling,
an emotion,
a carving out
of this day different from the rest

the in-between times
feel like a never-ending
static
in my mind/heart/life
and numbness
to it all

February 10, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i’m so sad
too sad
the sad that doesn’t go away
the sad where the minute you think you’ve made progress
you’ve figured out that feelings are all meaningless
and will pass any moment now
into a new feeling
you are reminded of some way you are
objectively
awful
(forgotten appointments/
late projects/
letting people down/
not good enough for your own standards/
etc./etc./etc./)
and you fall into that pit
once more
(not that you’d gotten out
you had just climbed far enough
to at least see the light,
but here you are
[rock]bottom of the pit of despair
)

(…but you know
this could all be a trap
that pit could have a trick floor
a trap door
and you could be pulled
even more
even further
even farther
down.)

January 31, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

it’s about to be
That Time:

February.

in a non-leap-year,
February and March
have the same date attached
to the same day of the week,

and this messes me
the fuck
up.

i’ve missed more appointments
than i care to admit
scheduling them for February
when i thought i’d scheduled them for March,
and more than a few
shown up too early
seeing the day and the date come up
in the second month of the year
just to have them actually be
in the third.

i know ‘reading the date more carefully’
is a way around this,
but sometimes my eyes see
exactly what they want to see
instead of what is

(and especially within this
year three
of a global porcupine ,
where concentration is lacking
in most of us
due to collective trauma
observed
[directly or indirectly]
day in
and day out
and day in
and day out
and my only saving grace
last year
was that nothing needed to be scheduled
during these months;
resurgences,
and my own clumsy injuries,
and the cold outside,
and my own seasonal depression…
i hid through most of the winter,
hibernated the initial instance of
‘Tuesday the first’
away)

but
i’m trying to be more proactive
more energized
more engaged
this year
so i’ll read
and re-read
and re-re-re-read
and have my spouse check
the dates of things
(or just not schedule anything
non-consistent
at all)
(i mean, hey,
there’s a reason i scheduled my booster
for today,
the last day in January,
a date i won’t even see
for another
fifty-nine
days)

and maybe
just maybe
this therapy
of breathing
and taking my time
and forgiving myself
my past errors
is [could be] helping?

January 22, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

see
me
doing the work
writing the things
pushing
daily

meet
me
in between
the day and the night
the push and the pull
the enjoying the work
and the pushing through for completionist’s sake

and do it all
in a mf-ing
pandemic

~~~

don’t know where that came from
except my brain
so i guess it’s not all sunflowers and random peaks of
existential dread
up in here…

~~~

the thing is, i’m not pushing
that hard,
like,
i do like
writing
i enjoy it
and [especially] when i get into flow
it’s the most fulfilled and productive i feel
but the last few days/weeks have felt
‘off’
and i can’t quite figure out why,
but i just keep going
and if i don’t write anything that i deem
‘good enough’ for posting
i simply go back to other days
where writing felt smoother
and more ‘of me’
(or something)
and i post that
(which i’ve done before
but maybe not so many days in a row?)
(and even the written — posted days
feel
not great)

did the second poetry-writing challenge break me?
or is this simply the effects of wintertime
(and every year i’m surprised)

December 26, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the concept of living on
borrowed time
of surviving past
when you should be gone
often implies
a sense of freedom
of living each day like your last
but the true implications
of living on borrowed time
skew
negative:
like you could be gone at any moment
so you live always looking over your shoulder,
and that’s why i identify
more
with living on borrowed time
because surviving past my teen-hood
(a feat i literally never imagined)
never brought me a sense
of living life to the fullest;
instead i’m constantly wondering
‘when’???

i was so certain of when it would be
and that passed
but i’m living on borrowed time
it’s gotta happen someday
so,
like i said…
when???

December 25, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

it’s Kipmas
we say
thirteen days
of a love language
trying not to fall into the pits
of the deep despairing depression
this time of year
usually yields

but also trying not
to avoid it;
if i need to mourn
the happiness and joy
of a home full of life
that now only seems to house
(or maybe that’s just my impression)
then that’s ok.

if i need to cry
that this year feels so weird
(especially now
that it’s actually
precedented)
and there’s such simple way(s)
for folks to avoid
overwhelming an already overburdened
healthcare system,
then that’s ok.

i’m not thinking in poetry right now,
it’s not morning
(my usual time to write)
and i’m full with Finnish food
and i feel both antsy and tired
at the same time,
itching for adventure
but longing to stay home
for (possibly) ever

this time of year
is weird
and often brings up
a whole shitload of emotions
(and these last two years more than ever)
but that’s ok.
feel your feelings,
even indulge;
too much is asked of us
at this time of year;
expectations abound
and you can take a moment
or a day
or a week
or a month
to just
sit
and
feel.

(and if i need to have a total breakdown
right as i try to post this
and instead weep for hours
and back-post it
from the 26th,
then i’ll do that, too.)

December 22, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the desire
to write;
it strikes!

~~~

shortest day of the year
is gone
it came and it went
(with such swiftness)
and now the days start to get longer
again,
and yet,
it starts here…

my slog
my sludge
my molasses of living
my fear
my anxiety
my processing darkness

why do the days feel so much darker
while they get brighter?

~~~

things that make me feel
exceptionally
more feminine:
roughed lips
curved hips
growing out the hair in my armpits.
things that make me feel
exceptionally
more masculine
tailored pants that somehow negate my curves
clenching my jaw until it changes the structure of my bones
imagining just the slightest bit of stubble on my chin
things that make me feel
exceptionally
non-binary:
just
being
me.

December 13, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

cover up
distract
work through

exercise
fight it
meditate

wait it out
wait it out
wait it out

i know one of these will work
but damn this depression
(like all others before
and all others yet to come)
has me feeling like

Truly
This Time
Nothing
Will Ever
Work.

November 5, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the wintertime
arrival
puts me in a mood of
hibernation
and i know so much can be done
in the colder months
but
i get so
quietly
sad
that it feels disingenuous to commit to anything

no class
no meetings
no future plans
no trips
none

but i know
it’s better for my
mental health
to continue
as if
the changing seasons didn’t immediately crush my soul,
but my joy
is often found
running around outside
(especially at night
when the rays of the sun
cannot find my shockingly pale skin)
but the nighttime now
is the coldest there is
and the daytime
offers only shreds of warmth
in the very sun i tried all summer to avoid
and it all just feels like
too much planning
and i’m better off
hiding
away from the sun
and cold
and snow
and “jolly” holiday times
(which hold in them more trauma than simple physical discomfort)
in a cozy home
with a cat on my lap
and a dog on the couch
and no to-do list on my screen
and simply imagine that i will get all my wishes and goals and hopes and dreams
accomplished
next year
(when it’s warm again…)