Explaining my depression to my mum... (Spoken Word poem that helped me)

MsCroft — Fri, 11 Mar 2016 00:01:46 GMT

Mum, my depression is a shapeshifter. One day it's as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear, the next it's the bear. On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone, I call the bad days "the Dark Days". Mum says try lighting candles but when I see a candle I see the flicker of a flame sparks of a memory younger than noon I am standing beside her open casket ,it is the moment that I learn everyone I will ever come to know will someday die. Besides Mum, I'm not afraid of the dark, perhaps that's part of the problem. Mum says I thought the problem was that you can't get out of bed. I can't, anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my house inside of my head. Mum says where did anxiety come from
Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that depression felt obligated to invite to the party. Mum, I am the party, only I'm a party I don't want to be at. She says why don't you try going to actual parties, see your friends. Sure I make plans, I make plans I don't want to go to I make plans because I know I should want to go I know sometimes I would have wanted to go it's just not that fun having fun when you don't want to have fun Mum. You see Mum each night Insomnia sweeps me up in his arms dips me in the kitchen in the small glow of the stove-light
Insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company. Mum says try counting sheep, but my mind can only count reasons to stay awake. So I go for walks, but my stuttering kneecaps clank like silver spoons held in strong arms with loose wrists. They ring in my ears like clumsy church bells reminding me that I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness that I cannot baptize myself in. Mum says happy is a decision, But my happy is as hollow as a pin pricked egg. My happy is a high fever that will break. Mum says I am so good at making something out of nothing and then flat out asks me if I am afraid of dying......No Mom I am afraid of living....Mum I am lonely. I think I learned that when Dad left how to turn the anger into lonely the lonely into busy so when I say I've been super busy lately I mean I've been falling asleep on the couch watching Sports Centre to avoid confronting the empty side of my bed but my depression always drags me back to my bed until my bones are forgotten fossils of a skeleton sunken city. My mouth a bone yard of teeth broken from biting down on themselves. The hollow auditorium of my chest swoons with the echoes of a heartbeat.

Explaining my depression to my mum... (Spoken Word poem that helped me)

Starwolf — Fri, 11 Mar 2016 01:46:54 GMT

Hi again Oliviah,

What a great idea and how wonderfully expressed. I am surprised that one of your other threads stated that you don't know how to word your thoughts and feelings.

I'm glad it helped you and I hope it helped change your mind re your ability to articulate the way you feel. I also hope it helps your Mum understand what depression is and what you are going through.

Thanks for sharing this with us. I am sure many of us will be able to relate to your words. Terrific post Oliviah. It brought tears to my eyes.

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Explaining my depression to my mum... (Spoken Word poem that helped me)

Explaining my depression to my mum... (Spoken Word poem that helped me)