therapy through writing

October 24, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

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

/ HJ / Leave a comment

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.

September 21, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

is there any use
in continuing
little habits
on a day
when it feels like
everything is out of control
(but somehow you made it this way?)

~~~

big feels
little poems
tiny words

you got it

~~~

the leaves
are changing
on the tree outside–
each green
bordered with a red
literally
glowing
in the morning sun
waving to me
in a gentle breeze
and letting me know
this autumn
will be
safe

~~~

breaking up big topics
into bite-sized pieces

the poetry way

~~~

the problem
(one of them)
with having such a vast array
of works
is that i don’t know
which one
two
or three
to send in
to potentially be
published

(especially these little bois—
where
and how
do they
belong?)

~~~

self
publishing?

(it is an option)

September 13, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

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

/ HJ / Leave a comment

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…]

September 2, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i knew
i know
it’s the beginning of the month
i knew
i know
it’s the second
(because it’s our dog’s 8-month birthday!)
and my brain put these two knowledges together
and wrote at the top of this page
‘august 2’
like we’ll just cycle through
august
continually

and when i told Kip this story
and insinuated
‘forever august’
we both said
‘no thank you!’

~~~

do you ever read a book
and can feel your mind expanding
your brain re-forming
its old opinions
and ways of thinking
into distinctly new ones?

i’m now on my second of two such books
within a month and a half time-frame
and while i will admit
to it
being quite exhausting
it is also invigorating
enlightening
(obviously)
and exciting

and i feel kind of bad
for people who never experience such
fast
observable
growth
of self

~~~

have i been able
to feel stable
to feel calm and at one with the universe
this past week
though i’ve missed
at least half
of morning poetry
because of the book i’m reading
and its meditative quality?

or is my default
when stress arises
simply to externalize calm
for others around me
but recently
that calm has infected the inside as well?

or am i simply able to
deal with stressors more easily
because of healthier coping mechanisms
and weekly chats with a good therapist
and daily low-doses
of a pill
that works?

or maybe all three?

August 29, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

my life
my poetry
slides from
quirky/cute/fun/carefree
to
the biggest angst you’ll ever see
and i know my life is actually
somewhere in the middle
somewhere in the in-between
but i never learned to see any shades
between the black and white
structured
yes or no
now or never
fact or falsehood
good or bad
so that simply makes my life
hard to quantify
at this point
wherein it has
so much positivity
but still so much pain

maybe that’s why i like spooky times so much
it’s supposed to be so scary
but it provides me with so much comfort
that i calm down the minute i hear dissonant tones
theremin whines
and boos and bones
rattling scattering my confusion
at the difference of the two kinds of life
and reminds me
that it’s ok
to live between

thank halloween.

August 27, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

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?