During my winter quarter, I took an Abnormal Psychology class where we had to make art project based on one of the disorders we were going to learn in class.
I thought why not share my project?
I wake and I feel nothing,
I tug my brush through my hair,
The pulling of the knots don't phase me.
I get dressed without a care in the world.
I wait outside; the cold sharp winds don't phase me one bit.
I get on the bus, listening to the hum of the engine
As it stops and goes.
I get downtown listening for the ring of the Link
Over the busy cars.
I get to campus and it's the same every week.
Notebooks, notes, pencil, lecture, pack up, repeat.
I eat my lunch still feeling empty.
I do some reading for classes, listening to the small talk.
Time for the next class and the routine continues.
Catch the Link, catch the bus,
Cross the street in the darkness of 6pm.
I come inside and say, "class was fine",
I change onto pjs, get some food, watch some Netflix.
As I lay in bed, I feel nothing.
The things that used to enjoy don't like they used to.
I just feel nothing no matter what I try.
Why did things end?
Was it because of me?
Or was it my illness?
Do you think I always wanted to lay around?
Did you ever think that maybe there could be more going on?
I still feel like it's all my fault.
And now I'm alone.
Its just me and my illness.
Sometimes I just want to disappear.
Walk into the cold salty ocean.
But not stopping once the water hits my knees.
Sometimes I just want to keep going.
Going until it completely covers me.
Feeling the cold knives hitting me everywhere,
So maybe I'll actually feel something.
I just want to disappear and become part of the waves.
I want to be apart of the rolling waves
That can cause destruction, but also joy.
I would bring joy to the kids jumping and playing
In my ice-cold salty water.
I would be apart of the beauty that is part of the ocean.
If only I could disappear into the ocean.
Then I'll be a part of something beautiful.
Be a part of something meaningful.
Instead I feel like a walking ghost.
That's just walking along the sandy beaches of life,
But leaving no footprints in the sand
When people hear the word depression, they look at you with pity. But what these people don't understand is how it affects a person. You go through days where all you want to do is sleep and stay in bed, but when people hear that they think you are being lazy. But that's depression. People ask you to come do activities you did all the time, but now you make excuses because deep down it doesn't bring joy anymore. But that's depression. People say you're not acting yourself, just having a bad day and you agree, but really you have been feeling this way for weeks. That's depression. When you finally reach out for help and people ask why it took so long and you say, "because I just now realized" and they reply "How did you not know you had it? "But that's depression. People ask if you're on medication and if your answer is right, they won't judge, but answer wrong they will; but honestly it isn't any of their business how I take care of myself.When you tell people, you smoke pot not to be "cool" but because is actually helps on those really low days, and yes that is a thing. They say "you are using depression as an excuse" they must not know the research behind it and the amount of other depressed people it helps. People begin to question why you started acting the same way as "before". Its because I stopped taking my meds…again. But that is just a part of depression. When people ask, "how do you live with depression?" I reply "day by day, hour by hour because depression comes and goes, some days are better than others, and even when you're down and others don't seem to help, you just keep going. Because that is depression."
When I first started out, I was strong and tall.
Stood up straight with my wax all around.
But then one day someone lit me,
And they let me burn all day.
Giving off that scent that makes them think of home,
Gives them that comfort.
As I burn, I'm no longer strong and tall
I have gotten shorter and weaker,
I start to curve one way because
My strength is not gone.
I am burnt out now
The flickering of my light is gone,
Because there is nothing left of me.
But will they notice?
Will the know they have burnt me out?
Probably not, they won't know until that happy scent goes.
And they will come back and realize,
I am not that strong and tall anymore,
They used me all up,
And now I am gone.
Unexpected Winter Day
Winter snow falling
One cold February day
Light white flakes falling.
Everyone has joy
A new winter wonderland
For new adventures.
But then there is me
Hates the cold, wet falling snow
It brings no joy.
Waking the next day
Everything covered in white
It brought a cold calm.
As the day when on
Watching the snow fall all calm
My mind has a change.
Feeling that sharp wind
Little knives hitting my face
The change continues.
Looking up gives peace
Arms open catching snowflakes
On my warm wet tongue.
As the sky changes
Into winter night calm sky
I start to feel joy.
All from this small thing
It brings a sense of wonder
And a change of heart.
The Buzz Therapy
I go onto Pinterest looking for just the right one.
Once I do, I think where the best place will be.
I walk into the shop hearing that buzz,
Feeling excited like going on a roller-coaster.
I get called back, and he cleans my skin,
Then puts on the blue outline.
I lay on the table knowing what is coming I hear that buzz,
And then the pain hits. Some places hurt more than others.
Going though this pain I think,
I could be doing worse things to my body.
Cutting, not eating, mot sleeping or sleeping too much.
I hear the buzz and by now I know which buzz
Will cause more or less pain.
It numbs the area and the mental pain for just a bit.
Soon the buzzing stops and now I have a reminder of
My illness but being strong on my ribs.
A cancer memorial for many on my arm,
To remember them.
A feather on my ankle for my sister.
Three birds behind my ear for my siblings,
Who keep me going.
A dandelion to remember things come and go
But keep on wishing for more.
A moon and heart on my shoulder for the love
Of the clear night sky with the bright moon.
They are all reminders to keep going and push though.
Can you figure out which disorder these poems are showing?