there’s a feeling
deep
in the pit of my stomach
and i can’t figure out
if it’s
Change
or Apprehension
or Jealousy
or what
but it’s there
and the faster i try to flee from it
the harder it holds on
so
perhaps
this is simply my companion
for the next few hours/
days/
weeks/
months
and i suppose i’ll try to make it an okay home
here’s the thing:
i’ve been stuck for weeks,
more than a month,
and i cannot tell
if it’s depression rearing its ugly head,
or exhaustion with the state of things in the world,
or a normal human reaction to the sadnesses that have befallen
me/us
as of late
i can’t tell if my disinterest
in my chosen profession
is an actual drifting away,
or a lack of momentum needed
for this particular drive,
or that damn depression once more
and, like i used to beg and plea
for the universe to send me
some sort of sign that
the choices i was making
were ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ for my life,
i wish to all goodness that
i could simply know
which it was
(but here’s the other thing:
i bet it’s a bit
of everything,
and that nothing
is as black and white as i see it,
and there is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ in my life,
because my choices are mine
and my own to deal with,
so every decision splits a universe apart from mine
but is there one
where i’m
happy?
all/
or at least most/
of the time???)
how are we
already
halfway through May?
(i blinked and April was gone)
but nothing will ever compare
to 2020
and the collective pressing of time
lasting forever;
that March that took
approximately eight years
to pass
and past that
i honestly don’t remember
anything
until June
(it was all March, you see)
i joke that
“time is a mortal construction”
because of a show i was in
(i was going to say once,
but technically it was twice)
and 2020 really showed us
how much of our society
really goes in to
how we perceive
the passage
of time
(and the abolishing of dst this year
did nothing to help the case
of time being anything near
concrete)
(i read once
that the only true marker
that we have
for time passing
is entropy,
all the rest of it
is simply our
perceptions,
so…)
~~~
why
do i
constantly fall into the trap
of thinking that
i don’t deserve
a “big
ol’
breakthrough”™
in my depression
if i’m not at
rock
bot-
tom
?
i’ve looked back at times
in my life
in my time
with this struggle
that seem pretty near,
but i recall clear
as day and night
are far apart
that those particular times
felt like i could always go
farther
down
depression
looks different
for different
people
so why can’t i get it through
my tick-ass skull
that rock bottom
would look different
for me
than other people?
i am not in a place
of rock bottom now,
that i can guarantee
to you and to me,
but i do feel plateaued
in a way i’ve felt
for years and years and—
–i also shouldn’t fall into the trap
of thinking that a plateau
deserves breakthroughs
any less
than a drop past the
“point of no return”™
so why
do i
find excuses
in every place
i find myself?
~~~
the puppy
wants so badly
to be friends with the cat
she sits
as calmly as her little puppy muscles can muster
and waits
for a sign of friendship
the cat, on the other hand,
simply hisses
and growls
and hides
and sighs
as the dog takes that all as signs
that the cat is conversing
and she excitedly talks back
in whining yips
and barking excites
‘come play with me!’
she seems to say
‘let’s be friends! please!? pleeeeeease!?!?!’
but the cat
is already
halfway
up the stairs
to hide just out of plain sight
or tuck herself deep under the bed
and the dog still whines
and climbs on the couch
to wait for her to show her face
in another hour or two
and the puppy whines start up again
and the hisses too,
and i hope one day
they do
actually
become friends
but today that seems…
damn near impossible
May
is going by
in the blink of an eye
~~~
i wish
sometimes
that my brain would just
chill out
for a moment
(not calm down completely;
i’ve learned my lesson there)
no, just,
give me a moment
a minute
an hour
a day
where i can be awake
but not overwhelmed with all the
‘what if’s
and ‘what could be’s,
the worries
that constantly plague me,
the overthinking
that suffers me
to ponder out
eight million possible bad outcomes
to a leap of faith
(some even stemming from
an outcome starting out
on the positive side)
does anyone else
see
both the big picture
and all the minute details
and instead of finding solace
in the breaking down of tasks
into smaller, manageable steps,
you just get overwhelmed
with the amount of tasks
that goes into everything?
or is that just me?
~~~
a rehearsal
a conversation
both later
both to look forward to
but first,
bagels
(or perhaps homemade Indian food
for breakfast)
(we’re adults, we make our own decisions in this house)
does anyone else
treat this life like a dress rehearsal,
like a rough draft,
like some sort of practice run
and keep, in their minds,
a running track of all their regrets
so that when it comes time
to actually perform/publish/play
‘for real’
they can do
life
‘right’
?
(or is that just my trauma response?)
even though you’re feeling sad
drink the coffee
do the writing
even though everything feels hopeless
drink the coffee
make the plans
even though you’d rather sleep and sleep and sleep
drink the coffee
do the day
little bursts of serotonin
may or may not add up
into an almost livable amount
of serotonin
for one mind
but at least those little bursts of serotonin
will help
for a second
or two
so
even thought it all seems so pointless
drink the coffee
eat the cookie
write the poem
talk with the spouse
play with the puppy
get out of the house
and fake it till you make it:
life edition.
~~~
yikes.
(the feels that made
that poem)
~~~
wanderlust
wanderhome
wander to me
go right now
i am waiting
arms outstretched
to feel you in them
once again
wanderlust
wanderhome
wander towards
never feeling
so alone.
a Kip Day
(a birthday for Kips)
the sadness has been chasing me lately
but today
i feel
at least a little bit
better
is it simply because it is
Kip Day?
who knows
but
the sky outside seems a little bit
brighter
(even with the rainclouds heading in)
and my tasks today seem a little more
doable
(even with the deadline looming overhead)
(perhaps because of the deadline looming overhead)
and my day split
because of needing to leave the house
seems a welcome division
as opposed to a hardship to (try to) overcome
so what to do
with this Kip Day
other than the tasks and travel and cooking and baking that needs to be done?
listen to the birds
listen to your kip
and smile when you feel like smiling
(the rest will follow,
i promise)
sensing
something
is off
is it simply
from poems
not written with the sunrise
but instead surrounded by the setting sun?
or is it something far less poetical?
could it simply be
the chemicals in my brain
and my own continuing responses to trauma long since passed
and an inner monologue that rarely has words
but when those words appear
they are insistences that i am the worst
and worth nothing
not even an attempt at self-love?
the problem with my form of depression
is that i so rarely am able to conceptualize
the opposite emotion while drowning in one
so when i’m doing ok
i’m actually, legitimately, doing ok
and it seems bizarrely unthinkable
that i could ever be this sad,
and my actions reflect that;
talking with people,
energy to do the things i want to do
(and i enjoy doing them, too),
telling my therapist about the minor inconveniences to my day
and how i thought through them so well
and how i think i’m finally getting through my depression
intelligently
and healthily
but when the real depression hits
all that happiness seems so cheaply bought
and like i was never really in a body that found
energy
or enjoyed anything
(particularly socialization)
and i can talk myself out of any positive spin
and i can talk myself into any desperation
(but i’m still really good
and appearing fine
for therapists)
and i never really know how to go about
expressing
depression.
i know it’s trailblazing,
world-shifting,
to be honest about it;
i boast ‘mental health matters’
and boost ‘it’s ok to not be ok’
and i want to be the change i wish to see
in the world
but my deepest depression
feels private,
and i honestly don’t know
if i’m ashamed
by a society
that only listens to mental illness
when it’s already passed and gone,
when the recovery looks linear
and one can talk about that overwhelming sadness
as something from the past
(i get it;
it’s far less scary and uncontrollable that way),
or if my depression is actually just
private
feeling
to me
and only me
(or,
a third option
i hadn’t realized
until just now:
if this is what my depression does to me;
it sends me signals that i am the only one
to deal with it
as a way to separate myself
further
from those around me;
my isolation is one of the biggest
baddest
boldest
hardest
symptoms to overcome…
so perhaps it’s not society
or self
(or perhaps it’s not solely those two)
perhaps it’s the depression itself
telling me
to be alone
and lonely
and to perpetuate
the cycle
of never wanting to ask for help
so never asking for help
so furthering on the depression
ad infinitum)
a revelation
a eureka moment
about this desperate sadness
i feel
cyclically
without warning
a drowning…
but maybe this knowledge
is something
that might keep my head above water
one more
day
autumn is a time for falling asleep
spring is the awakening
autumn is preparing for the months of winter depression
spring is shedding those sads
autumn is slowing, pondering, thinking, dying
spring is the adrenaline amping up again
so why do i feel so tired and sad and ponderous
while spring is all around me?
~~~
coffee
music
cat on lap
dog on couch
kip across the table
help me enter the day
my way
~~~
i know my headspace isn’t great
if i obsess over things
or
if i shoot from one subject matter
to the next
to the next
with no real resolution
and no thinking through to the end.
so why are my indications
entirely opposing?
is this my black and white thinking coming to some sort of fruition
or is this the source of my non-grey-mind?
i am
a very stubborn person
a very strongheaded person
an i-put-my-mind-to-a-task-and-i-do-it person
a person who sets a goal and sticks to it
a person who does things
when i was sixteen years old, without a flexible muscle in my body
i decided i wanted to be flexible
so i stretched every morning
and was, after just a few months
able to do all splits
and waterfall into a back-bend
and i did this with very little knowledge
(which would bite me in the ass later,
but that’s not the point of this poem)
i wanted to be something
so i set my mind
and i did it.
i have other examples
of stubbornness
of setting my mind
but that is the one i call upon first
because it is such a clearcut example
of how i can accomplish
anything
i put my mind to
so why can’t i ever set my mind to loving myself
to forgiving myself
to cutting myself a little bit of slack
to giving myself a little bit of a mental break over things that
i probably had very little control over in the first place?
is it because i don’t actually want to love/forgive/let myself off the hook?
i’d say
probably
(but then that brings up a whole new question
which is
why?
why do i think i don’t deserve love?
why do i think i’m reprehensible if i dare to cut myself the tiniest bit of slack?
why does my feeling of worthiness come directly from how worthless i can
make myself feel?
this doesn’t seem healthy or accurate or growth-inducing
so why do i still do it?)
(i don’t have any answers right now)
kipventures 