If Life had a Handbook;

It might read like this…for those of us who just seem to get hung up on the details…

You will disappoint people.
You are going to let people down.
You’re not going to be there for someone at a time when they really need you.
You are going to fail at things, maybe even a lot of things.
You are going to have very valid reasons why these things happened, or why you behaved the way you did, and it won’t matter. It won’t matter to anyone else, and it won’t matter to you. Everyone will have tunnel vision.
People are going to get angry with you. Some people may even stay angry for a really long time, or even forever.
You’re going to feel paralyzed by fear.
You will be so confused you will not know what to do.
You are going to disappoint yourself.
You will have a hard time looking in a mirror.
You are going to feel grossly inadequate in absolutely every way.
You’re going to feel ashamed and guilty.
You’re going to have a really hard time having a conversation with someone.
You will lose a friend, or two, or more in your lifetime.
You’re also going to be very disappointed, and feel let down.
You’re going to feel wronged, and betrayed.
You will cry in front of someone and it will seem like they do not care.
Someone will treat you with cold indifference regarding a problem you’re having.
People will see the injustice, and tell you it’s not fair, it’s not true, it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong, you didn’t deserve it. You will not believe them.
And it will not change a thing.
There will be people you desperately want in your life who will choose to walk away and you will feel abandoned and rejected and wounded and deeply flawed and unlovable.
You will feel so, so lonely, and alone at times.
You will feel so much pain, and inner turmoil and anguish.
You will think that nobody understands you, or what you’re going through.
But they do.
You are going to feel a fiery anger burning deep inside of you and you are going to lose your temper, maybe once, maybe twice, maybe many, many times.
You are going to do and say things that you will come to regret.
There will be things you can’t even imagine forgiving yourself for.
But you will.
You will have days when you feel wrung out and spent, and like you just don’t have it in you to go on for another second.
You’re going to think it’s pointless.
You will question your choices and your sanity. Repeatedly.
You will wonder why or how you got yourself into this and worry that you won’t be able to get yourself out of it.
But you will. You may need help. But you will. It may take time, maybe even longer that you want it to, BUT you will.
You will want to run away. You will want to hide. You might even do it. Repeatedly.
There will be times when you will just want to give up. And you will.
You will not feel like trying again.
You will choose to walk away.
You refuse to try again.
You will decide that you want things to be different.
You will try again, but with a twist.
There will be times when you will have no choice but to give up, and walk away, and you will know that you can’t try again. Something has come to an end.
Things are not always going to be okay, or going well.
You are not always going to be okay.
It’s okay to be sick, it’s okay to be giving less than 110%.
It’s okay to have times where you give no %.
It’s okay to not give a shit.
It’s okay to not want to do something, and it’s hella’ okay to say no.
It’s also very okay to say yes.
This is normal. It’s life. It’s part of the way we experience life as humans. It’s inevitable. You cannot change this anymore than I can change the number of species of spiders on this damn planet, much as I would like to.
But you can change your focus.
Take a breath.
Recognize that sometimes your perception can get skewed, that you can get caught up in it, and that your expectations can get out of whack with reality.
Reality is also all of the good things.
Birds that sing. Climbable trees. A lake and all the fish that swim in it. Mountains. The moon, the stars. Writing. Creating. The smell of pine, peppermint, or sandalwood. Swings. Campfires. Love. This reality is also life, and the possibilities are endless.
You don’t have to do anything to earn this life.
If the universe saw fit to bring you fourth then there is no need to argue.
Go and take up the space that is rightfully yours and just be.
No apologies.
No debts owed.
No strings attached.
You are so hard on yourself…..
You do have to kick your own ass and pat your own back most of the time and it sucks but you also have to ask for help when you need it…you have to stand up for yourself and tell people what you need, what you like, what you do or don’t want, what you will tolerate, and toughest of all, tell them how you feel….how you really feel….
BUT…
You do not have to do everything.
You can take your time. Take all the time you need.
You are allowed to screw up and make bad choices. Own them. Deal with them. Then leave them behind. Move on. Even if others will not.
And let other people own and deal with theirs.
You do not have to fix everything.
You are not responsible for everything.
It’s not always about right or wrong. Sometimes it’s more about do you want to go left or right? Up or down? It’s about if you want to stay turn to page 78…if you want to eat ice cream turn to page…
You don’t have to have all the answers or know how things are going to turn out. You just have to be willing to flip that page. Especially when you’re the author.
You do not have to tarnish your glow so someone else’s seems brighter.
You do not need to stifle yourself so someone else can appear to be growing.
There is no need to make yourself small so someone else can look big.
You do not have to be weak so someone else can prove they are strong.
You do not have to lose your voice in order for someone else to find or use theirs.
Do you see that’s okay for you to be happy? Even if other people are not? Even if those people are people you love and care about?
It is.
Things are not always going to be fair or just.
Things are not always going to be equal, and they don’t have to be.
It’s also okay for you to be sad, and angry, and excited, and let yourself feel and express all of it, and any other emotion you feel. Even when others don’t feel the same way.
Even if it makes them uncomfortable.
It’s okay if the pendulum swings your way once in awhile.
It’s okay to accept, and embrace good things happening in your life, even if they aren’t happening for other people.
It’s okay to be okay.
Yes, again, even when others are not.
Remember – You only have one life to live.
That doesn’t mean you only have one shot to get it right.
It means you only have one shot to live it.
So live.

 

 

Of Depression

Dear Reader – This poem does not reflect how I am feeling today but rather another time when I was feeling so depressed I was suicidal. If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal please call 911 without hesitation. You can come back from black!

Of Depression

I had believed myself victorious. But at night a tap on the window of my mind. Distracting at first and then demanding. The days at first glorious now grow tirelessly long. The sun too bright.

I tried, feign, oh how I tried. To be a part of your world. To belong to it. I laughed, I cried. I made jokes. I took buses to your pretty buildings and looked up. I walked barefoot in your green grass. I sampled your food and smiled at your people.

I did rise up but only so that I could fall. The world assaulted my senses. Too intense, too loud, too fast, too harsh.

I had taken up the sword time and time again, but now it lay rusting by the door. Even if useable I had no will to pick it up, my muscles having grown slack.

Alas I felt lost and at odds. I didn’t understand my reactions, and wondered if I was unwell. Happiness was an ill fitting shirt, always awkward, always askew, always needing adjustment. Something I couldn’t wait to take off. It was foreign.

Withdrawal is easy. I am already hidden. Having constructed my world so that nobody knows where I am or what I am doing but they all think I am somewhere, doing something. Important.

I don’t believe I ever fully lost sight of her, my black Goddess. Once I thought her lost but soon realized she had never left my side, and it was only because I had turned my head. She had merely lain in tempered silence awaiting my return, her teeth and eyes gleaming when I looked upon her. Her ability to predict me unmatched by any other I had encountered. It is strange to be known so well by such a creature, since her continued presence surely means my demise, yet I imagine it is akin to love.

Rising up from the darkness she beckons me come to her side, to nestle in her bosom, to suckle her pale teat and swallow the poison. Drink it down, and fill me into my boots. She whispers to me, a familiar lull. Not aloud, yet somewhere in the depths of my mind, and I hear her. And when I pay her mind it becomes a deafening roar.

Her embrace is suffocating, consuming, intoxicating. I lie on a slab and use her frock as a blanket, her hair as a pillow. I am so very weary. Perhaps she grows tired of this torturous dance also. Maybe this time she will put the dagger in me, and finish us off.

Only time holds answers. But for now I am compelled to close my eyes and dream of dark things in a funerary world and hope to awake to silence.

I am not afraid of this dark abyss in which she dwells because I have been here before. I have lived here with her for decades.

You see she is me, and I am home.

Mentally Me – C/P