February 25, 2022

amidst the attacks
on trans kids’ care
and Ukraine
and the continued unfounded laxations
on policies meant to keep us safe and healthy
and, of course, the never-ending attacks of
those of color in this country
(particularly those Black in this country)

amidst all this tragedy and infuriation and chaos yesterday
i achieved a personal best,
an achievement,
a goal i’d thought unattainable,

and i need to remind myself that i’m allowed to celebrate that.

i can celebrate and mourn,
i can celebrate and call to action,
i can celebrate and take action,
i am not required to fix the world
before i work on my silly little circus moves

in fact

working on my silly little circus moves
is what gives me the strength to do all i need to for the world…

without circus,
without celebration,
without exercise and investigation
of what my body can do,
without art and all i do to self-express,
without that humanity
i am simply left
a giant mass of depression,

and depression/forlornness/existential dread;
that is [part of] what maintains the status quo.

without art/celebration/joy
i am left overwhelmed with all that needs to be done
in the world.

with,
i can balance
all i know is terrible
with my little pieces of what is good,
so i can have the energy to call representatives
and give my little bits of extra income
and write poetry to [maybe] inspire others
as well

we,
those of us who are queer,
those of us with mental states that fill us
with anxiety
and/or
despair,
we are human
and are allowed our humanity,
our joy,
our celebration,
our art,

and, as a lovely side-effect,
that humanity,
when taken,
can help us do our part
to negate some of the external sources
of our stress and panic and dread.

i am allowed to celebrate
just to celebrate
because i am human
(no matter how many conservative lawmakers try to deny that about me and my kin)
i am human
and i am allowed joy in my life

and perhaps my joy can uplift others in their joy as well

so here’s to baby’s first solid, unassisted, one-armed meathook,
to the side-abs i am creating
and the joy i am stoking
in myself
because i am allowed,
i need no external validation
but it helps to hear it out loud all the same,
i am allowed
i am allowed
and i can bring others up as well.

February 15, 2022

a therapy appointment
a good ‘vamlumtimes’
and a cbd night’s sleep
and i’m feeling ever so slightly better today
than i was yesterday
morning

i’m still a little on
the stuck side
a little on
the slower side
a little on
the i don’t know what to write or if i’ll ever really want to write again
side

but

there is a whole day ahead of me
and instead of seeing it as a negative,
as an entire,
bleeding,
long
ass,
gooddamned
day,
i would like to see it as an opportunity;
not necessarily to get things accomplished
(but that would be nice if that happened)
but to get to do things
i want to do

(don’t know what that might end up being
but i’ll do it
!)

~~~

a therapist once told me
to listen to my body,
to let my desires direct my day

that would be great
if
i knew what my body was trying to say…

~~~

when i tell stories
for the first, second, third times
i am testing out wording,
making sure the way i tell the story
in the future
(the memorized-like-a-monologue version)
is the best one,
the most truthful,
the one that elicits the best response.

but sometimes,
when i tell stories that are more than stories,
explorations of trauma,
a tale of something that impacted me
hugely,
i tell it in such a way that,
in observing myself,
i can tell i’m telling it
in order to understand
how i feel about it.

(because, if nothing else, i sure know how to intellectualize)

February 14, 2022

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

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.)

December 13, 2021

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

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…)

August 24, 2021

went to sleep in a Mood™
woke up in a Whole Other Mood™
and i’m realizing how reliant i am on
the negative talk and self-sabotage and executive dysfunction
to truly be the blame for when things go wrong,
so when i am happy, when i do actually put forth the effort
to try to do things right,
and if circumstances just happen to breed the same outcome…
the low-key self-hatred,
the kind i can ignore away
because it’s always there
becomes loud
becomes bites with teeth
and those teeth are the “proof” from the external factors
which i know, logically, are circumstantial,
or i could have done something to change, but i literally didn’t know at the time
but damn if that bite isn’t sharp and deep
deep
deep down to my soul
till i start to believe the fanged monster
when they say
truly
no one loves you
and you are to blame
[look at all this proof]

~~~

and now we have the decision-making,
the ‘do i put this up on my site or not’-ing.
i’m truly fine;
i’m an adult, so i don’t have those crazy teen-hormones running around my brain and bloodstream
begging me to do something rash,
something stupid,
something irreversible.
and i am nothing if not an overthinker,
i can see the consequences of each and every action i might take
from here inside myself to externally to those i love
to forward moving in the future
and even back-ward looking to color the past

but that overthinking and knowing i’m too intellectual to actually do anything about anything
makes for even more frustration in the moment
there’s no outlet
no doing anything
just writing sad poetry
and waiting it all out…

so i guess
don’t take this as a plea for help
just take this in as my brain working some shit out.

~~~

just go read your own writing
maybe you’ll like yourself
one day

August 17, 2021

if i’m
contemplative
too much
i get
existential
and that often leads to
a
crisis
but without
contemplation
i’m left with
mundanity
which therein leads to
boredom
which in turn becomes
agitation
which stems from
anxiety
and
depression
which, while indulging in those
can become
too much
contemplation

[or at least i think those are the appropriate words for all that emotional muck i feel]

June 29, 2021

angst
existential and otherwise
feeds into my mind
my brain
my psyche
my being
and though i can take a step to the side
watch as my emotions fill up
saturate
overflow
danger levels
tell myself
to calm down
i’m still sidelined
in my own
mind
the angst
getting the better of me
(getting the worst of me)
(getting the all of me,
all of all of all of me)

and yet
what shows
is just a little bit of an
‘off’
ness
to me

(the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

(didn’t know i was feeling that way this morning
a surprise to everyone around me
including and especially me

again

the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

is there any happiness in my brain today?
or is this maybe the point of morning pages/
morning poetry
to get all this angst out before it hits other people;
if i leave the angst on the page
(on the screen)
(outside of me)
maybe i’ll be better around others
throughout the day?

June 23, 2021

another adventure
another setting out
this time for something
not quite as happy
but hopefully fulfilling
and connecting
and kind.

~~~

there are studies
that show
the earlier you deal with death
the better
(or so much worse)
you are at handling any death
as an adult.

i solidly fall into the second category,
my brain short circuiting whenever death is present
whenever someone is grieving
my go-to comfort is
to leave them alone.

but when you’re not a pre-teen
figuring out exactly what you need,
most folks would opt for connection
for a few words of comfort
not alone time.

so
after months of watching back episodes of
“Ask a Mortician”
and
reading her books
and
listening to her podcast
i’ve figured out a better way of dealing with death:

i ask the grieving person
what their favorite memory is of their loved one.
i specify they don’t have to share with me,
(but i’d be happy to hear if they choose),
but to simply think of their favorite memory.

i’ve only had two opportunities to use it so far,
but both felt connective,
kind,
and i felt useful
(all i really want to feel anyway)

so,
anyone grieving,
(or having gone through grief),
what’s your favorite memory of that person?

~~~

our dog
staring at her food
for minutes upon minutes
as if she’s having an existential crisis

(what a way for the universe to show us she belongs with us)