Tag Archives: depression

ripped away -a poem-

Posted on by

0

ripped from your fingers
when you’d finally gotten the grasp,
snatched from your hands
that’s it – that’s a wrap.
you got one chance,
you should’ve tried harder –
oh, you felt your life was falling apart? Er —-

too bad, no second chances.
the decision’s been made,
your input be damned.
it’s all a game that’s being played
where we forget that our players
can be human too.
they struggle with emotions,
some more than others do.

we give it our all,
but is it ever enough?
or do we keep ripping opportunities
when the going gets rough?

you think you know me
better than I do –
but how do I prove you wrong when
after all I’ve been through,
everything I’ve tried
isn’t good enough for you.

You ripped this from my fingers,
stomped on it with your shoe.
Now what the hell am I supposed to do?

Turn the Page

Posted on by

2

Well, here we are. I am officially done with every part of the 2020-2021 school year. At the end of last summer, I had every doubt that I could make it through this school year in general without a full on mental breakdown. Every day challenged me in a new way, and forced me to look at my own life, thoughts, behavior, personal expectations, self-doubt. I learned who’s really on my team, and who wears two faces better than I thought they did. Most importantly, I learned that I can make it through anything.

It’s crazy how your own mind can work against you, convincing you with every fiber of your being that you are not worth the love and appreciation other people have to give; that you are not great at what you do no matter how many people tell you otherwise; that everyone would be better off when you’re not around.

Continue reading →

Teaching in a Pandemic (I CanNOT Survive This Twice)

Posted on by

3

Being a teacher this year has been one of the hardest experiences I have ever had to push myself through. I have written a bit on here about my journey being a 7th grade English teacher this year, amidst virtual learning, then hybrid learning, and now still hybrid but really like 80% face-to-face and 20% virtual.

Every part of this year has been so difficult. Let’s break it down.

Continue reading →

The Worst Thing About Masks -a poem-

Posted on by

4

The worst thing about masks
when you’re astute, aware,
intuitive to emotions
others are experiencing –

your eyes.

Eyes are a window to the soul, they say.
You give yourself away when your
Eyes don’t tell the same story as your words.
Squint, wink, blink, raise eyebrows.

So when I tell you how I’ve been feeling lately,
you hide your worry from your voice,
under your mask,
but I see it in your eyes.
I know you want to ask,
I know you want to cry,
you care, you’re concerned –
how could I ever think I wanted to die?
You stay strong,
but I feel your emotion inside
all because of your soft, sad eyes.

The mask makes them pop,
I can’t help but notice.
I feel worse knowing you’re worried;
you have enough on your plate
and now – oh wait – here’s one more thing.

Your eyes gave away
what you tried to hide.
The worst thing about masks
is your eyes are magnified.
I can see right through them,
you’re terrified –
I’m sorry I’ve become a burden.

You Are Not A Burden

Posted on by

6

I have to repeat these words to myself on a daily basis recently.

I’ve been posting a lot of poems lately. Not every single one I’ve written, but a good chunk of them. It’s annoying because I want to save them and try and publish a poetry chapbook of my own, but I think there’s power in sharing an emotional struggle to ensure that no one ever truly feels alone in the battle with their own mental health. I feel that when we try harder to hide it from everyone, it’s when we feel the most alone and that we are a burden to those who love us.

I’ve uttered those words to my therapist a few times. “I feel like I’m becoming a burden.” It’s the anxiety/depression talking, I know. She’ll ask in response, “Who told you that you’ve become a burden?” and I have to admit that nobody has said it, that’s just how it feels. It’s crazy what a sick brain can convince you of.

Continue reading →

Check -a poem-

Posted on by

5

On the outside
she looks like she’s barely trying.

On the inside
she feels like she’s slowly dying.

When would someone see
the signs of a broken girl
who’s running out of time?

Her mind – a hive
of soul-killing ideas
that she’s
unworthy,
unlovable,
unwanted,
undeniably unnecessary to anyone.

Check on your friends
who smile through pain.
Check on your friends
who work hard to maintain
some semblance that everything’s always okay
come rain, come sun, come cloudy day –

for the face they wear is but a mask
glue-filled cracks
waiting for someone to finally ask
“be honest, please, are you okay?”
so they can admit
“it’s all a display;
i’m so damn tired of being awake,
desperately looking to finally escape.”

Check on your friends before it’s too late.

Outlet -a poem-

Posted on by

1

The car-
a space to scream:
freedom to express emotions
weighing me down every damn day.

Therapy-
a paid person to talk to:
a judgement free safe space,
faced with a fresh perspective.

Social media-
A chance to forget:
forced you to find something positive;
we share a glimpse to create a narrative.

Journal-
a place to write:
journals don’t judge, paper doesn’t poke
until you break, desperate for happiness.

Words.
We all need a place
where we can use our words
to freely feel our feelings.
In this society where we’re expected
to fake it til we make it,
what happens when you can’t?

Max capacity,
living unhappily
until we deal with it drastically:

a temporary problem
solved with a permanent solution.

I’m Sorry -a poem-

Posted on by

1

I’m sorry
for venting
when you wanted quiet.
I’m sorry
for crying
instead of just being silent.
I’m sorry
for thinking
I had your shoulder to lean on.
I’m sorry
for relying
on the vows we agreed on.
I’m sorry
for asking
you to feel some emotion.
I’m sorry
for hoping
you’d have a solution.

I’ll just go back to keeping to myself
now that I know you don’t want to help.

I’m Not A Sore Loser, but

Posted on by

6

I do have some feelings about it.

I struggle a lot with extremely high expectations of myself, holding myself to unreasonably high standards, needing a lot of validation from others to think I’m not literally the worst teacher, employee, friend, wife, person, etc. It’s hard to live in my head some days, especially this year where we teachers have had to stop and adjust our entire teaching methodology to continue educating in a pandemic.

This post is hard for me to write, because every way I attempt to phrase my frustration makes it sound I’m just a sore loser and I’m not happy for others, and honestly none of that is true. I am not going to share this post on my social media because I don’t need the whispers of my coworkers in the hallway or family members at gatherings spreading half-truths. I just have feelings and words and my they didn’t feel sufficient in my journal.

Continue reading →

Relinquishing Control (Or At Least Trying To)

Posted on by

2

It’s hard for many to admit: you truly do not have control over anything except for yourself. I’ll be honest, this is one thing that has absolutely wrecked me over this last year of my life. I never considered myself to be the Type A control freak. I’m way too introverted to carry that title and position. Most “control freaks” run a situation, refusing to let others take over.

I, rather, let other people run the show while I watch from the sidelines as things fall apart because I knew better but was too afraid to stand up and say anything. What happens when things don’t work out as planned? Someone has to pick up the pieces and fix it. Enter me: the fixer. I have no issues with this role. Never have.

Continue reading →