despair

resigned to fate
I sit on my rock
at the bottom
in this dry well

pit's mouth always in sight
light shines in
yet I am wearied
from climbing
and falling

fingernails caked with dirt
snide laughter
mocks my attempts
to escape this hole

if torrential rains pour
I'll drown down here
perhaps I could tread
hoping the waters
carry me up

december 17, 2oo8
judithpiper


I am challenged with depression and anxiety. Poetry and journaling help me to process through these emotions. Some may deem prose like the above as me "dwelling on the negative." I deem it as expressing pain, acknowledging it, and endeavoring to work through it in order to rise out of the thrall of despair. The final verse above, kind of makes me laugh. Is that weird? :-o :-)

At times, I have images that pop into my head. An ongoing image has been myself in a hole, similar to a well. At the top is a boot that will push me down again and again. Other times I climb out of that hole...into the sunlight of hope.

I have utilized something called "thought records" which is used in cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). After I wrote the prose above, I wrote a thought record. My final thoughts were:

I do fall down and I've always gotten back up. Change can happen at any moment.

Though I seem to be running in circles at the moment, the reality is that I am taking action to deviate that course. Change can happen at any moment.

To life, circles, lines, shapes, and magic strokes upon the page....