My friend said a couple weeks ago, “We’re all broken, I’m just diagnosed broken.” I think that is perfectly said.
The video below inspired me to post this poem I wrote about two years ago. I still suffer with the same thing in this poem and have for about three years or so now. Note, though, the acceptance lying underneath some of what I wrote. That’s what’s significant – because none of us are asking for pity, just acceptance. Luckily, I’ve come to accept myself through the help of some great people, etc. I want everyone to know that depression/anxiety is normal and that doesn’t make you unstable or crazy – just a little under the weather.
There’s a lump on my stomach that won’t ever go away.
It’s sewed below the flesh and stuck between my belly button and intestines.
It rises and falls and sometimes it goes to sleep, but more often that not, it is awake.
This lump is always cranky and feels nothing like other pains when he yawns.
He yawns a lot.
I can’t decide why he became a male except that he displays dominance and has little beauty.
But, the fact that I categorized him is something beautiful, isn’t it?
I don’t like where he lives and I’d rather him move, but he really isn’t going to leave.
He has signed a lease and will be in the pits of my groin, right below my heart, until the lease runs up.
I don’t know how long his lease will last and I won’t know until he’s gone.
Maybe he will never move and he will resist the small white powders that sprinkle his existence as I dissolve them into my system.
This cold won’t distance him.
Sometimes these circles of white calm him and he stays indoors.
Other times, he is mowing the grass and I am allergic.
I am allergic to the pain that causes me to not write and not sleep.
Each day I will have to send those snowballs down my esophagus, pleading him to leave.
Leave, Anxiety, leave.
Maybe the churning is laughing, because he is wiser than me and knows I wouldn’t be writing this if he wasn’t there.