The Unknown | 2019

The bathtub is filled half way with cool water. I wanted it hot, but it must be all out. Sometimes that happens.

I try to focus on the drip drip noise that comes from the faucet but I can’t hear anything. I feel heavy and indifferent. My mind is racing, but my body is slow and forlorn. I try to focus on anything but the thoughts running rampant in my brain, but they don’t stop.

That’s the funny thing about anxiety. It doesn’t stop.

Anxiety doesn’t care that I’m a good person, or that I have goals to achieve. He doesn’t care that I have a job to go to and friends to keep up with. Anxiety doesn’t care– it just is.

I sit up in the bath and I try some deep-breathing. It helps sometimes. My body is cold and the water is slowly draining; but I don’t care. I’m slowly draining, too.

The optimist in me knows that I have the strength to conquer even the hardest days–fuck, she’s never been wrong before. What makes lately any different?

My therapist confirms that my worry stems from The Unknown, a term I’m coining for my anxiety. The Unknown is a part of me. It is my ultimate downfall and my biggest blessing.

With it; I am haphazard. Without it; I am not me.

Some days I don’t know which is worse.

I’d like to take full responsibility for how I feel because it seems like the right thing to do. For awhile I blamed my dad’s suicide, and the sexual assault, and this and that. I was hell-bent on finding someone to blame other than just letting it be what it is– a part of who I am and something I don’t have full control over. I’m not a controlling person, but Goddammit, I wish I could be in control of this.

Anxiety doesn’t have to be a negative thing, though it’s damn hard to flip the switch on something with such a depressing connotation. Manifesting something so self-debilitating and turning it into a power tool to create a better you is not something easily mastered. I won’t pretend like I have done it myself– I haven’t. But I have complete faith that it can be done; only, and only if, you allow yourself to become wholeheartedly vulnerable.

I get it. It’s hard for people to come to terms with anxiety and all it entails. It’s hard to admit when there’s a problem; and even worse, it’s hard to seek help. When you do receive help, it’s hard to accept what’s being told to you. It’s too easy to fall into the rabbit hole, constantly wondering why do I have to be like this? and why can’t I just be normal?

I guess everyone is different. I’m no expert, you know? I have no idea what the hell I’m doing most of the time. All I really know is that I go through some shit and with that comes a burning need to help others that are dealing with the same emotions I am. Not everyone is strong and level-headed. I can’t fix these people, but I can be there for them as much as they’ll allow me to be.

The water in the tub has completely drained. The air has frozen my body but I make way to grab a towel. I’m frozen, but my mind is not. She keeps going, and going, and…

I have a theory that everything happens for a reason. All the good, bad, and traumatic has a place in our lives. We aren’t always meant to know why. We aren’t always going to understand it. It’s okay to not understand. Roll with the punches, take shit at face value, allow yourself to be engulfed in whatever life hits you with.

Hm, maybe I should take my own advice?

I’m out of the tub now, sleepy and ready to rest my head.

Tomorrow is a new day, and maybe The Unknown won’t be so bad.

But even if he is, we’ll get through it.

We always do.

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I can’t get out of bed

I can’t get out of bed.

The mornings are dull, my heart aches with the desire to feel something other than void, the thick air feels heavy against my skin.

I can’t get out of bed.

What’s the point? You can’t afford this. How are you going to manage a real job? You’re in over your head.

The voices speak but I’m tuning them out. They don’t know me. They don’t define me.

I can’t get out of bed.

Responsibility calls but I don’t answer. Instead, I cry; for nor particular reason at all. Depression calls. I answer her.

I can’t get out of bed.

I read endless articles about positivity and happiness and how to become a healthier me. It seems simple. I try it.

I still can’t get out of bed.

Tomorrow is a new day. Opportunity awaits. Depression will call me, but I’ll try to decline her. She never has anything good to say.

Tomorrow I’ll try to get out of bed.

Poetry Collection 9/2/18

Below you will find a few poems written over the past few weeks that I have decided to show you all.

Please Drive Home Safe

please drive home safe

i’ll miss the way your fingers latched with mine,

it took me to a faraway place

i did not recognize.

please drive home safe

the way you look into me, through me,

it makes me feel alive.

the spark i thought i lost in life,

was right there in your eyes.

please drive home safe

the best things in life come unexpectedly,

or so that’s what they say.

regardless,

the truth comes out some day.

please drive home safe

i don’t know what i’d do without you, baby,

please understand

i need you to drive home safe tonight

so next time i can hold your hand

i know life seems tough, doubtful and shallow

i’m here to make things better for you

and a little bit for me, too

i’m in love with you, a feeling i forgot i knew

thank you for showing me a love so kind

it could make the angels rage with jealousy

a feeling so pure, it can only exist for us two

please honey drive home safe tonight

i need you here to love you tonight

tomorrow

and

longer

untitled

I drank four cups of coffee yesterday, three the day before

I thought it might help me keep busy, caffeine running through my veins like my system depends on it

I thought it would help

But my mind began racing, the piercing thoughts pinching me like little insects gnawing on me

I want to tell you what it means to have you by my side, but you already know

I want to tell you how easy it is to get lost in the thought of you, but I’ve said that before

Maybe I’ll mention the ease of your lips on mine and how it fills my being with the same warmth that coffee brings me, except

I would give up the caffeine addiction to become addicted to you

I don’t think you really understand, you don’t truly grasp what it means to me

when you look through me, into me

and you can relate because you’ve been there.

you don’t judge, nor mock

and if I could tell you a million times to make you understand

I would.

Fuck anybody that doesn’t understand what it means to feel raw,

like bones sawing against each other, like our skin is falling off and we can’t stop the sheer pain it brings,

but instead embrace it.

If I could tell you, sweetheart, just what it means to have you here, then maybe we’d both be better off,

but I can’t put into words what I feel when you’re next to me,

and how much I crave your existence next to mine,

I can’t say any of those things.

But I sure can fucking try.

a man

i once met a man

he said he’d understand

the pain and heartbreak and sorrow

i once met a man

he said he once had a plan

to change the world tomorrow

i once met a man

he said he’d felt hollow

in a society full of false hope and

big problems

i felt sorry for that man, a good guy

dealt the wrong hand

“I wish I could take all your pain away,” and he said “ma’am i would do the same”

for everyone in this world strives for happiness

but most of us leave with heartbreak

i’m sorry honey for the cards you were dealt

you know that i would and i would if i could if i could

take all of the heartbreak and insufferable pain, away and away forever

but that’s not life and that’s now how it works

i once met a man

he said he’d understand

the pain and the heartbreak and sorrow

he didn’t understand, though, no not at all

how his existence made the world a bit brighter

in the darkest of hours

his demeanor did not fool, not me at all

he doesn’t understand

his worth

to me

and to all

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