Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

World Mental Health Awareness Day: What Depression feels like (for me).

Depression sinks into your very soul, and you stop knowing how to love yourself; the thought just isn’t fucking there, and to even hear it, write it, be surrounded by the constant reminders of “Love yourself” does nothing when you feel as if you need that self love to EARN the love of others. People with depression put much more stock into what others say and think about them versus what they think of themselves. That concept of self love? Do you realize how completely IMPOSSIBLE it SEEMS to someone with depression? Of course self-love is real, and so very important, but seems like utter BULLSHIT to someone with depression. “Why the fuck should I love myself? What have I done to deserve any love?” Those are the thoughts that LIVE inside the mind. Everybody feels those thoughts once in awhile, everybody feels down and useless and yes, we all bend and break and regret and wish for change and a chance to do it over, but people with depression LIVE that. EVERY. SINGLE. SECOND. And sure, in moments they can feel brave, strong, and as if the fight is worth it, but those moments are so, so hard.

As a friend to someone with depression, do not ever say “This shit is getting old.” You’ve only seen the surface, and yes it isn’t fair for a friend to have to ALWAYS deal with someone who is constantly down in the dumps, but if you say that line you are pretty much ensuring some major self-hatred in the future. People with depression understand how much of a burden they can be, how much they place onto others, and how unfair that is.

THAT ALSO ADDS TO THE NEGATIVE/DEPRESSING FEELINGS.

And asking “Well why are you depressed” is an oxymoron; there is no real answer, and thinking about it makes the person feel even worse; they have no “real” reason to feel bad, and that makes the guilt even worse. So what can you do for someone who seems to be suffering from depression? Exist to them. Do not try to take them out of there comfort zone in an attempt to make them “change”. By saying they need change, you enforce the idea that they are broken, which they ARE NOT. They aren’t depressed because they stay in, watch movies, don’t want to go out, don’t want to drink, etc etc. By forcing a change in habit you are forcing a person to believe that to be happy, they HAVE to conform to a new way of life. They just want to FEEL NORMAL DOING EVERYTHING. That is it. Plain and simple. The depressed want to be able to listen music, write a song, go for a walk without feeling so damn, fucking morbid about it. They want to feel what others feel, to feel as if they aren’t wasting time, wasting space, wasting away for nothing. The problem is they never can accept that they need to just do what fulfills them; that whole “do whatever makes you happy” line. Depression means when you find something that makes you happy, you feel GUILTY about it, like why do you deserve something like this? Why do you deserve to smile? To laugh?

THAT IS THE CONSTANT THOUGHT PROCESS FOLKS.

Everything becomes a big question of why why why and o me me me. And to top it all off, they realize how selfish that sounds, to only think about themselves, how this process of constantly feeling as if you deserve nothing is actually dragging down those closest to you, and makes depression a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, to recap all of that: People with depression feel hopeless, and because of that they feel guilty. The guilt is what really kills; guilt of not DESERVING LOVE, guilt of not BEING NORMAL, and also the guilt of not having a REAL REASON to feel depressed. How should you help alleviate this guilt? Try doing something for them that THEY want to do. Go see that movie they mentioned, just because. Grab a bite to eat somewhere they like. Try to bend a little to what they want, what they feel comfortable with, and ease them into new situations. Let them see that what THEY want to do has merit, isn’t weird or strange, and that they can smile without feeling like they aren’t deserving of it. Start small, don’t expect big changes, and don’t expect this whole new person. Put value into what they love, even if they won’t admit they love it, which they won’t because they won’t feel as if they deserve to, but they need to know that it’s all OKAY. Depression takes away the feeling that who we are matters, and breaks us down until we believe we did nothing but waste the time of others, and we need to end that wastefulness ASAP.

Be patient, be kind, remind people how much they matter, how much they mean to the world. Sure, they may not believe you at first (and they won’t) but just hearing it gives pause, gets the gears turning, and for a few precious  moments someone can escape from depression and feel as if the world isn’t crashing down around them. A few more moments like that, and suddenly your head is above water more often than under, and you realize that sure, maybe I can’t breathe underwater like the rest of the fish, but holy shit I can swim!

Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“Time erases nothing, but diminishes everything.”

How did things end up like this? 

In the Winter, you were here. 

But then came Summer

And suddenly I can only see you

When I close my eyes. 

Will tomorrow be the same? 

Will the next day be another day 

Where I don’t know you, 

Where I can’t find you at all?

I can’t forgive you,

And I won’t forgive myself.

But I want too…I really want too…

I miss you.

Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

“I can feel the weight of these memories, so large that I can’t carry anything new into my tomorrows. At some point I have to make a choice, but I’m afraid that, even after all these years, I’m still going to choose anybody but me…”

Falling down takes time, and has layers, and can even appear beautiful. It’s sort of like a sunset on the beach in late September. It’s not truly autumn, so every evening is ushered in on the tail-end of a dying summer breeze. The light from the Sun plays games with that not so warm air, flickering more, almost dancing, as it descends onto the horizon. The space between the Sun and the Earth, the Earth and the sky, the skyline and the edge of our planet, stretched out across the deepest of blues reflected in the open Sea… For a brief moment, you can close one eye, and these vast distances and heavenly bodies all fit in the space between your thumb and index finger. 

But the moment is only that, a moment.

The Sun keeps on dancing as it slips over the edge of the world. The breeze keeps on twirling, the oceans are swirling, but it’s all beginning to fade into the background as the Moon and the stars take their positions. The transition is peaceful, poetic even, and I find so much comfort in this daily sight. The world ends every day without a fuss. It takes time, but it’s never in a rush. The Sun goes down as its own pace, and it manages to stay beautiful every step of the way. So maybe falling down isn’t such a bad thing after all, so long as we remember that falling down always comes with the opportunity to rise again. 

Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I just wanted our summer to last forever. I would have given you anything, done absolutely anything, if only you would have promised me you’d stay…

You are a sunburn; you came with happy times spent in sunny days, and you left me with the coming of autumn and the bright orange leaves. So were you ever really there? Will I have any physical reminders of your love on my person? I once heard that every cell in our entire body is destroyed and replaced every seven years. So in a short seven years I will have a body that you will have never touched… and that thought is both beautiful and the saddest fucking thing I have ever heard.

Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“You treated our love like chocolate the day after Valentines; you want it, but it’s not worth retail price.”

You only ever invested enough to enjoy the taste, ignoring the meaning behind the heart shaped boxes. It was all about the moment for you, that sweet, satisfying mouthful. You never let the chocolate take it’s time to melt on your tongue, coating your world in a coco dream. For you, it’s all about quantity over quality. Price tags need to have a 50% discount before you’d even consider making the purchase. The best part of buying chocolate isn’t getting to eat it; the best part is getting to give it to someone else, someone you know will want to share it with you. You aren’t good at sharing, and you refuse to be a committed part of somebody else’s world. You only want a momentary fix, a quick sugar high. You’ll never experience a lingering sense of satisfaction eating like that. You’ll never have comfort in simply unwrapping the candy bar, because you’ll only ever be in a rush to shove that sweetness down your throat. You rip right through the fancy printed labels, not even bothering to appreciate the subtle details. You want to quiet your sweet tooth, and you don’t mind gaining a few cavities along the way.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I’m walking around without a destination in mind. I used to think that was a waste of my time, but now I know that I don’t need to have a specific goal so long as I keep moving forward.

I think I enjoy the night

Because it feels like

The beginning of the end.

I can use that darkness

To find myself again.

In the morning, it’s as if

The broken bits of me

Have become presentable,

Even taking on the form

Of avant garde art;

A patched up soul,

Center stitched heart,

All held together

By a long forgotten truth;

It’s okay if I make mistakes,

And even though it hurts,

I can still believe

That I deserve love.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I have been spending my vacation reading through posts on WordPress, and I just want to say thank you to every author on this site. You are all amazing.

Maybe you’re right, maybe I’ll never amount to anything. I might spend my entire life writing these poems and essays and novels and never get a single one published. It’s likely that the only people who will ever read my words are people who follow my tiny blog. I’ll never get paid for writing, and I’ll never get famous. My parents may never respect my dream of being an author, and my friends may ridicule me for wasting my weekends storyboarding the next chapter of the book I’ll never, ever finish instead of spending some time in the Sun. I might even look back and regret ever starting down this path of winding words, but that doesn’t matter. I want to be a writer. I want to put my soul into something, because I’ve been inspired by those who have written before me. Every book, every poem or screenplay or short story I have ever read lives inside of me. I can feel the passion coming from every sentence, and it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, to read the soul of another person. I want to give my fair share to the world, and not because I feel I owe this world anything. I want to give myself away on these pages because it’s what I want to do; I just want to pour my heart out in the best way that I can, and that means pen to paper, keystrokes to LCD monitor, fancy Eagle feather quill to authentic, hand crafted, medieval scrolls!

I let you tapper my dream of writing until the only thing left was a point so fine it would break the second I tried to put any weight into my words. I let you whittle me away, and that was my mistake. I paid for it…I’m still paying for it, every day, BUT, I also didn’t give you everything. Brittle though it may be, I still have my own pen, so I can write my own story. It might not last very long, but so long as I still have it, I won’t give up. I’m going to keep going, until I can’t go any further. Even if I go nowhere with my writing, I’m still going to write, and I’m going to share it to my blog, and I’m going to fill journal after journal with every story that pops into my head.

So maybe you’re right, but maybe you’re also 100% wrong. I have already amounted to something. It might be a small something in a niche corner of the literary world, but I am something, and nobody can take that away.