Snowy April and Writer’s Block


This seems to illustrate the type of April I’ve been having lately…I haven’t written anything new in ages. I’m back to second guessing myself. The narrative doesn’t flow like it used to. I find myself rarely writing poetry anymore…

I’m not inspired. Where did my inspiration go? :/

I took this picture while I was walking in the cemetery next to my work. It might seem a bit grim, but it is a refreshing walk (it is a fairly large cemetery). Been working hard at work. Earning that money to take a nice vacation here soon. Buut, I hope I can get my writer’s mojo back. I feel like half of myself without it.

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Poem: My Evil Twin, Doubt

Meet my evil twin
I call her, Doubt
she second guesses
Things I’ve figured out

She makes me weak
When I take a stand
Kicks me down
And takes command

Invites her friends:
Anxiety and Depression
Inside I’m roiling:
I’ve made a bad impression

Anxiety whispers to Doubt and
Depression behind my back
They’re making fun of me!
There’s nothing that I lack

I am Beautiful and Strong
Creative and Inspired
My evil twin, Doubt
Is not even desired

She’s shallow and she’s needy
her friends are much worse
Dripping black negativity
Tucking extra in her purse

She’ll swagger up the street
People spring out of the way
Heels clicking, eyes like daggers
With nothing great to say

All The Happy Little Trees

I am appreciating the outdoors today and the sunshine, even though it’s pretty cold outside! It’s as if Bob Ross were here painting all his happy little trees…

Mike took this picture on our walk today. This up and down weather is taking its toll on the small streams and canals in the area. There’s been some flooding from blockages from ice floes.

I somehow caught pink-eye over the weekend; and the handle to my driver’s side door snapped off when I tried to open my frozen car door last night, but I am choosing to remain positive. Was actually a great triumph for me to laugh about it, instead of let my anxiety take over.

Plus, I’m inside and warm, and that always helps, too. Hope everyone has a great Sunday and keep safe out there!

Happy Writing all!

Poem Rerun: SAD, and A Little Pep-talk

This one is a re-run, a poem I wrote last year in December, but definitely fits tonight! It’s sooo cold here. 7 degrees when I woke up this morning, thank you, and I could live without it. In fact, I think I would live better without it. The cold wears me down, dries out my skin and makes me eat more. (Although, the holidays haven’t helped the waistline, either.)

For those of you who are struggling with SAD like me, hang in there. The longer days are coming. Get plenty of sleep, drink TONS of water, and quit eating crap that’s not good for you. (Really this is just a reminder to myself.) And remember to take care of yourself, especially on days when you’re really down. You’re not going to get anything done if you’re in a funk. And it’s much harder to get out of one, once you’re already there. Don’t do it to yourself. Just don’t. Oh yeah, the poem. (Psst. Write more! Especially when you’re feeling down. It does help!)

SAD РSeasonal Affective Disorder 

Age twenty-nine

Feels like ninety-two

Tired and achy

Like I’ve got the flu

One step forward

Two steps back

With joints that ache

And bones that crack

With blurry eyes

And pounding head

“I want to sleep!”

“Sleep when you’re dead!”

It’s Okay to Admit You Need Help

Things have been a little quiet here on the blogging front. Not intentionally. This week I’ve been sick with a lovely head cold and I have some new things going on in my life and thought I would take some time to chat about it.

It’s not easy…admitting that you need help. Help comes in many different forms. Emotional…educational…physical.

You might have heard me mention it a time or two: depression and anxiety.

When I was a teenager, I was diagnosed with Seasonal Affective disorder, which is basically depression that one gets based on the lack of sunlight in the winter months. It’s no fun when a chemical in your brain stops working properly and tells you not to be happy anymore.

I’ve…managed with that the last several years. But lately, it seems like the older I get the worse my anxiety is. I have always been a classified “worry-wort,” but there comes a time, where it’s not just worry. Where anxiety becomes something more than just double checking that your doors are locked after you locked them. Twice. And after you already check again for the third time.

The older I get, it seems like the more I don’t function properly. I’ve been debating back and forth why I don’t see myself as “normal” anymore. Why, I think that’s something I ought to be, and why normal isn’t really the same for anyone. What’s normal? And why is it something anyone wants to be, anyway?

But anyway, I digress. The point…I’ve started going to therapy.

Some people might think, so? I’ve gone to therapy, what’s the big deal? But this is a big deal for me. I’m not used to telling my life problems to people, and it’s not always easy admitting that you need help.

There’s no shame in admitting that you need help, and there’s no shame in getting that help. Depression and anxiety are not easy things, and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

We all react to our life struggles in different ways, and we all have to find our own ways to encounter such challenges. I am not afraid to talk about my depression and anxiety, but I was afraid to get help. And I’m still afraid in some ways…do people look at me differently? Do I look different?

Does anyone judge me? But…I have to press on.

When I started this blog, I wanted to make sure it was a place that I could always come to, to make sure I was still writing. Now, I also want it to be a place where I can talk freely about my problems with depression and anxiety.

It’s something that needs to be talked about, and seeing as writers and creative sorts always seem to be the ones who struggle with depression and anxiety…we should all do a lot of talking about it.

Anyway, I hope you guys are having a great night, and I hope everyone had a great weekend.

Happy writing!

How Depression Really Feels

Once again, trying to channel those super-down feelings of depression. Sometimes it helps to just get it all out there. Very much gloom and doom, though, I’m sorry. But sometimes it helps to get it out and maybe it’ll help others to understand. Especially, when they haven’t gone through these emotions themselves.

window-view-1081788_1920Today is a bad day for me. I try really hard, but somehow, I am always less than what I should be. Feelings of worthlessness, tiredness, that whole Is-it-worth-it-to-get-out-of-bed type of attitude.

I wish it was easier to go on, I wish it was easier to snap out of it than it is…but it’s not. In truth, I feel like I’ve done it to myself…not doing things that I should, not being where I should, not being enough again.

If only others knew how it feels. How it feels to be completely worthless.

Let me crawl back into bed with no judgement. Wrap your arms around me to keep me from going to pieces. But don’t look at me and don’t judge me. I can’t bear the weight of your expectations.

Sometimes I need that little push, but sometimes it frightens or scares me. Sometimes, I feel like I’m being thrust out into the cold with nothing to hold onto, and there is an icy floor beneath my feet.

Let me slip and slide if you want to, but how am I going to pull myself up?

How??

My light therapy doesn’t feel bright enough. Usually it blinds and stuns at first, but today, it’s as if I just turned on a regular lamp. There is not enough light in the world to snuff out this darkness.

And I feel as if I have buried my nose in the heart of it and it is weighing me down. Oh, so very much.

Let the rain come, and let the worms burrow in my ears and let everything bad that’s supposed to happen rest upon my shoulders. I’m sure there is a weight in the world, worthy of this. But why all this despair, when I’ve done nothing?

I’ve done nothing to deserve this. And I shouldn’t think I have.

The brain is a fickle friend sometimes. One minute, you’re convinced you are doing everything to live a healthy life, the next thing…she’s telling you: you are worthless scum.

Go away brain, and let my heart speak for once.

Poem: Can’t They See I’m Drowning?

girl-690327_1280Been trying to put my emotions to writing as a means of therapy…on those rough days if I get it out, it seems to help, if only for a bit. But anxiety/mental illness is not talked about enough in the work place, I don’t think.

I don’t think people understand how truly difficult it is sometimes to function. Even though it looks like it’s all okay on the outside, it doesn’t mean it is.

That’s why I love some of the artwork I’ve seen from people who have put mental illnesses into pictures; it’s truly amazing, and uplifting and maybe it will help people to understand better.

Can’t You See I’m Drowning

I don’t feel good enough

for the rain to touch my skin

I’m not worthy of the catharsis

of nature’s natural tears

I wonder what I look like on the outside

when the minutes crawl by like years

Unrest that spins like sickness

behind my eyes

I smile, I laugh, I tease

Why can’t they see the lies?

A blackness that crushes

a grey that claws

picks at your attention

pulls at your senses

clouds around your personal bubble

’till everything and everyone is in a fog

But I’ve got to smile

be courteous, communicative

and cooperative

I’ve got to be

energetic and organized

to be impossibly awesome

like no one has before

watch me drag my feet across the floor

Can’t they see I’m drowning?

My Thoughts During a Work-day-Wednesday

cat-1101867_1280We writers think really bizarre thoughts sometimes. Thoughts that jump from one random subject to the next; pondering how life works, what our characters might be thinking, wondering if the hum of the fluorescent lights is actually harmful to your health. (I think it is!)

Maybe it was in Jennifer Lawson’s Furiously Happy that inspired this internal monologue. It might have been. Anyway, here are some of my crazy thoughts from being bored at work today:

A weird article I read: Man Rescued at Sea Was Suspect In Grandfather’s Slaying. Turns out this young man owns a boat named, “The Chicken Pox,” and his mother who was going to inherit millions of dollars from said Grandpa, was mysteriously lost at sea. ***Feel free to use this one for a story idea.

Asked a women on the phone how she was and I get back: “I’m okay, I have a family.”¬† Is this an expression somewhere I don’t know about? Except, she seemed so sad when she said it to me.

I. Hate. Small. Talk.

Dead silences make me nervous…and sleepy.

Note to Self: Look up weather, it’s going to rain five days straight.

On that thought, seasonal depression might set in early. Remember to research insurances and psychiatrists in the area.

Space cowboys are kind of an awesome thing.

OR, maybe it’s the hum of electronics that you hear in the silence that makes me nervous…no one around but THE MACHINES.

I think I would have added more, but then I got distracted by story-planning and actual work helping customers.

How was your day? Happy Writing!

Helping Others When You Can’t Help Yourself

girl-1064659_1920There’s something that’s been on my mind lately.

As you guys know, Mike and I have moved to a new area, and that means…new job for me. AGAIN.

My last job was great for me: sit in a room and type and don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to. Boring, yes, but not taxing or stressful because I wasn’t forced to be interactive on days where I really didn’t want to.

People might shake their head and be like: what are you talking about? What’s so hard about talking to people?

But when you have social anxiety, there is everything wrong with talking to people. It is very difficult to help people when you can’t help yourself.

I don’t know how much I’ve stressed over and over to people who are close to me, and to others and I hope they will eventually get it.

Working in Customer Service where your job is to help people is sooo difficult when you can’t help yourself.

Inside, you feel like you can’t breathe, you are drowning. Your mind is telling you to do something, but you are also fighting with yourself. I can’t, I’ll do it wrong, I’m hopeless, I’m worthless, look at them staring…they know…they know…

On top of the anxiety, there’s the depression that comes a long with it. You feel like a loser. A simple job and you can’t do it. Everyone else is fine, no one is having troubles. There must be something wrong with me. I’m a nobody, I have no purpose, I feel so worthless…so worthless.

These are only a few of the thoughts that were running through my mind today when I was at my new job where I have to assist customers and I have to put on a smile, and I have to interact with people and pretend that I am okay when I’m not.

I even mentioned to my co-worker: “I’m a little anxious today, it makes me feel like extra slow and stuff.”

Didn’t really get much of a response. But where’s the time really to go into the full length explanation, and who knows really what to say to all that anyway?

I think I’ll be looking into seeing a specialist soon as therapists know the right responses to these feelings…or at least you hope they do, but something else has been bothering me:

Why aren’t more people aware of how debilitating anxiety and depression are in the work place?

I know it has effected me and my career…or lack thereof one.

Why aren’t we talking about it? Why aren’t more people aware how difficult it is to put on a brave face, when inside you feel like you are drowning?

WHY DON’T WE TALK MORE ABOUT THIS?

Anyway, I just wanted to throw that out there. Those of us that struggle with this are heroes when you have to bear this burden in silence, and we really shouldn’t have to be.

It is a real thing, and more people should be understanding out there…work place included.

Ah, I feel better now. Anyway, what are you guys doing tonight? Anything thoughts on this?