turning depression into art

March 24, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the dog hasn’t been eating much
and though it might be
old age/
picky taste/
boredom/
sensitive teeths
it could also mean she’s
depressed

(which,
like,
we can barely keep our own depressions
from swallowing us whole,
how can we care for
another being’s mind-demons???)

but
i digress

if Louka is depressed
i’ve decided to do my best
to make her just a little bit
happier

so yesterday
we went on a long, long walk.

i let her lead the way,
and barring standing in the middle of the road,
she was our guide.

through the meandering side-streets
of the north bronx
we were intrigued by smells off of a sports field,
scared off by loud subway sounds,
befriended by a neighbor-acquaintance
(and Louka received many treats
for her good ‘sits’ and ‘high-fives’),
and after we’d walked with them for a bit
we bid adieu
to explore a new street,
a new space,
we’d never been before–

and suddenly
in the midst of a mostly barren
chain-link fenced-in yard
stood a small, plastic bull
at attention
ready to fight

and Louka was ready as well

she sniffed
and stared
and stood her ground
until

a play bow!

a small, playful growl!

a fully formed play bark!

her tail wagged a staggering pace,
her hops and leaps and bounds
unbounded by her
skinny, old-dog frame

as she desperately tried to coax this
non-dog,
non-living,
little plastic bull
to play with her
(a dog who never plays,
not with toys,
or humans,
or even other dogs
unless forced to,
and even then…)

and i watched,
delighted,
damn near crying
because she’s been so sad
so lonely
so tired
so much less energetic
over the last few weeks/months/years

and i saw there a full puppy
happy dog tail
happy dog bounce
happy dog
play

acting like a puppy

(and on National Puppy Day!!!)

so maybe there is hope
and help
for our dog’s depression

and maybe
just maybe
that means the humans’ depressions in this house
might be lessened
just a bit
too.

February 28, 2022

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drive is not enough,
desire is not enough,
ambition/hunger/passion-
-not enough,
when you have anxiety
breaking you down at every step,
when you have depression making sure
you know
that visualization
is just a foolish trick,
and that hunger is simply greed
in a different trench coat,
when you have your own brain
waging war
on every want you’ve ever wanted
it’s not enough
to want
to set the goals
to be proactive at all…

manifestation
only manifests
if your whole being is on the same wavelength

so how
do i
connect
my
divisions of self?

February 25, 2022

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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

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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

/ 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.)

December 25, 2021

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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 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…)