November 11, 2022

i just
want to do
something
with my hands

embroidery
or sewing
beading
or cross-stitch

i’d try crochet
or knotting up friendship bracelets
at this point i’d give wire jewelry-making a go

but my brain
when i sit down
with supplies
and a project in mind
it gives no explanation
but simply says
no

so my hands fidget
and my body holds in the pressure
of anxiety about to explode
but my depression-ridden brain
becomes its own worst enemy
it laughs in the face of my wants and desires
and it only
ever says
no
no
no
no
no

November 4, 2022

last night
i had
the worst insomnia
i’ve had
in years.

i mean,
i still have a fair bit of insomnia
that’s something that i think will never
fully
leave,

but i used to be so terrible
at relaxing enough
to fall asleep.
and then, after hours and hours
of trying and failing and trying and trying
and finally, finally dozing off,
i’d still wake up
multiple times in the night
often as awake as when i first laid down
just to start the cycle
all over again.

my insomnia these days
is pretty well relegated
to the waking up during the night—
to pee,
to toss,
to turn,
to overthink,
and then to fall asleep again–
sometimes just once,
sometimes countless times,
but the initial putting myself to bed
no longer that much of an issue

but last night…

oh

last
night

i was awake to the point where i convinced myself it was mania
i was so awake i could not even stay laying horizontal in a bed
i was awake enough to want to run around the house to exhaust myself
to read an entire novel
to start up the late night conversations
with other insomniacs
[not] in my area
i was awake and up and i panicked a little
because, though it’s been nearly a decade,
i’m so familiar with that level
of awakeness
before
bed

but

these days i have a spouse

these days i have settled hormones

these days i have a knowledge and sense of self i never had all those years ago

but really
these days
i have a spouse
who loves me
and who i can rely on
who would stay up with me all night if i needed them to
but who comforts me to the point
of relaxing enough
to fall asleep

(and only wake up once in the night)

October 24, 2022

i wonder
if my mother
would have been great
at getting my pronouns
right

would she have stood up for me
at family gatherings
corrected people
when i wasn’t near
would she have been
the ally
i needed
to come out
with a bang
instead of this subtle
exhausting
whispered
coming out
over
and over
and over
again
every time
a ‘she’ is uttered
or a ‘ladies’ is announced
or any of those microaggressions
my gender dysphoria
insists
are actual aggression

i don’t know
i wish i knew
but i really don’t

she was an ally of all queer folks she knew
(I know 100% she’d have been to my wedding
would have celebrated like the world was ending
when she knew mine was just beginning
because that’s just the way she was)
but gender is somehow harder
and the in-between confuses even the best
of allies
and i don’t want to put her up on a pedestal
nor do i want to underestimate her devotion
to a me she never got to see

i only knew her for eleven and three quarters years
and i have memories of less
she is both the person i was closest to
and the biggest mystery of my life

and i just wish
i could guess
what it would be like
to have her
stand up
for me

October 11, 2022

oh no
the anxiety
it’s coming
it’s here
it’s pulsing
fluttering
buzzing
it’s blossoming
like a spiky rose
a giant sunflower
blooming unbelievably
over my head
(though i should believe—
i know
i’m small)

the beauty of anxiety
is not to be confused
with how it feels inside—
fluttering heartbeats
expectations of failures
the writing
and re-writing
and re-re-wriiting
of this poem
countless times
(and none of them will ever be enough)

no

the beauty of anxiety
comes from the knowledge
the observance
the wisdom
that the cycle is never-ending
and what you thought was healing
was really just a bending
of psychological mishaps
into a faint shadow of mental health
that you thought was a calm against the storm—
but the running against the clock
of the battery conking out
(and the files saved in an un-safe way
and the computer trying hard on its last legs
and everything feeling like its falling apart
even thought you know you could [have] do[ne] something to stop)—
that’s anxiety
and that’s the beauty and the ugliness
the ‘you could have changed computers months ago’
‘you should have charged your laptop last night’
‘you really need to clear out space
in every device
you live
your life
inside’
but you didn’t
you don’t
you never do
because somehow
the experience of anxiety
relies heavily
on knowing what you could/should do
and never having done it
because somehow
you feel you
deserve
this

dread.

October 9, 2022

there were only two things

i needed/wanted

to do today

and i did neither

(but that’s ok

because

breaks are important

and rest is necessary

and we did other

important

things

otherwise

and now

these tigers

are ready for

bed)

September 13, 2022

the upset-est belly
the cutest puppy
i’m hitting the existential crises
of why bother with poetry

(how was i so invigorated
just yesterday?)

~~~

the depression
hits
out of the blue

where yesterday
was a pretty good day
and i felt neutral
(if not actually happy maybe)

today, every little inconvenience
is a sign from the universe
telling me to give up/
every moment of waking
is one where i’m wishing i’m sleeping/
and the feeling i can label appearing on my face
can only be described as “dourness”

how am i so susceptible to little fits of depression
all while distancing/dissociating myself so well
from all my [other] emotions?

~~~

explore
the emotion
of depression

[i don’t want to—
it’s not a clean feeling—
it’s messy and
it gets everywhere,
sticky in places you didn’t even see it spill to,
but when you aren’t looking
aren’t expecting it
there it is again
and you can’t even reach that place
to fully get it
out]

September 10, 2022

will i ever write
anything as honest
in the daylight hours
as i do near midnight
just before
sleep
takes me?

~~~

meditate
on the self
to escape from
the pressures
of the other

(but don’t blame the people–
they’re just trying to survive
just like you–
but how do we escape the systems
that are built
to trap,
hinder,
distance,
and depress
?)

~~~

how well do you know yourself
and your patterns
of self-sabotage?

~~~

these poems are starting to sound
a little angsty
but i swear i’m not in
a teen mood™ —
i’m just trying to find my footing
for a morning
after a morning
away

~~~

i have enough poetry
to always have something new
to slight-of-hand any reader
into thinking
i never miss a day
of writing

but i’m too honest for that jazz
so here i am
keeping my streak
but also writing poems
about skipping days
and i don’t know what that says
about me

(and if i should be thinking about that
anyways)

~~~

interesting
watching oneself
write poetry–
a line i thought
would negate/lessen
the last line
makes it feel
so much fuller
than before

i suppose that’s why i’m out here
writing poetry
every day
for 500+ days
as opposed to
studying
and analyzing
and obsessing
and perfecting
a thing
that comes
from the heart

[perhaps i should take that into account
in other aspects
of my life…]

August 27, 2022

a memory
failing me
at every opportunity

or

is it protecting me?
is it saving me from the agony
of solid knowledge
and pain?

because

isn’t that what a trauma response is?
just the brain and/or body
trying their hardest
to save the heart
from hurt?

August 23, 2022

if i were to write
a letter/poem/something to my younger self
would it be
simply
“you don’t need
to protect
your whole sex/gender/age group”?
“you don’t need
to stick up for
all cats
everywhere”?
“you don’t need to
put the entire world’s burdens
on your tiny shoulders”?
and is that still
what i need to tell myself
today?