This weeks blog is…well it’s me. 🙂 True to form there’s a lovely long impression after the poem. As always it’s optional. What matters is that you get something out of being here.
With that onwards and my best wishes to all for a lovely week ahead.
Part One: Feelings
Black and still
Consciousness fades with each hour.
Note books forsaken in their heaps and their mounds
Pens are retracted
Pencils left un-sharpened
As darkness takes hold of the mind
Eyes scream at the day light
Ears deafened by the softest sound
The body coiled in defensive poses
Vulnerable and sacrified.
For an end to it all.
The reign of anxiety and fears…
I am not enough
To make life worth the effort.
And too many words echo and shout…
…I think too much
Talk too much
Ultimately just fuck it up.
Try too hard to make right on wrongs that have no leanings,
They are just what they are
Part of life’s wheel turning.
The tongue refuse to speak
The mouth is too pained to moved an inch
The mind unable to explain the pain,
Consciousness strains so hard to think.
As daylight spills through the clouds…
…I am weak, no courage left in me
I only crave sleep.
To make it right while wondering why I always come out wrong
Like good intentions come unstrung
And strewn across the floor.
I am left knowing there is no out.
Yet a door exists somewhere I know
Where there’s the answer to another me.
20 cups of coffee
Still 3 hours ’till 5
I have moved from percolator to table
For today that’s my exercise.
Just one more cup,
Then I’ll get up…
…But pages remain empty
Paint is left to crack
As my chest burns its agony
Leaving me sprawled upon my back.
Until nightfall comes round again
Then maybe I can make amends?
Footfalls across a 2:30am kitchen floor
Now the mind awakes
Sitting in the chill
To ease self destructions addictive pull.
The mind alights on the root of my problem…
Having clung so tightly for reality’s sake
I pushed out wonder
Scared away the child’s escape…
© 2013 Tikarma Vodicka
Poetical Impressions, Where I’m at through ‘Step One: Feeling’. Monday January 7th 2013.
Whew! That was not easy to do. I have the inclination to be Miss Sunshine. I’m fine! 🙂 And I am…now…I am okay. But for a while I wasn’t and this is where I’m at. Looking back, with clarity and a clear objective view at what the last 4 months have meant to me. Ultimately, for me.
There are many kinds of depression. Too many to list. All of us at some point experience a level of depression. Whether in the form of loss or grief or the more deeper painful levels that seem to defying explanation. Your life is fine, why so down?
The depression I experienced was not the black dog hounding me, but the beast I came to call Leviathan who chains you to the ground.
Despite my efforts I reached a point where I could no longer think. The light was painful, my body hurt and every noise was a painful screeching in my ears.
It’s a horrid place to be. It is the space of raw despair, which leaves you wondering why you’re alive. Most of the time you just are. Half comatose and un-thinking.
I have lived many years now in a manic-depressive state. The depression was a creative space though. I have written some lovely (I think) poems, bright and hopeful in that state and I have painted with a determination to learn, grow and share.
This depression I’ve not experienced since I was a teenager. It was not exactly the same thank-goodness. I’d like to think that’s because I have grown, matured and no matter how many circles I run in, they are never truly identical. Life changes and you along with it.
So I pushed through it as best I could in the hope that if I did I would come out better, stronger, happier…blah! It broke me.
My mind to which I am inextricable linked is far more powerful than me, myself and I.
Normally this type of depression would see me hospitalised. My faith it seems still is stronger than even my mind. So un-like in the past, while I at times dwelt upon it I did not try to take my life or add to the gallery of scars that mark my body.
It is a massive improvement.
I probably should have spoken to some-one but the mental services where I live are…welll…they are there in spirit. A GP is NOT qualified to know what I need in medication or give any kind of therapy.
The thought of long trips to the city and expensive psychiatric visits I can’t actually afford just increased my despair. I would find my way out, my way, and I have.
So The last few months have not been joyful. How I managed to even remember it was Christmas and get anything to anyone was a minor miracle but I did it.
While I am not inclined to the confessional booth and I have no intention to share nitty-gritty details, I am aware I cannot stay silent completely about the last four months.
I cannot re-emerge all la-de-dah with inspired intentions of hope and joyful creative bliss as if nothing has happened. Because something has happened and I am very changed for it.
I don’t know yet who I am completely in my new landscape. I’m still drawing my map and planning my route. I’m still processing what I’ve experienced, all that has been said and how I will choose to re-form that into who I want to be.
In no way have I done the right thing. Depression is serious and it does kill. It has nearly killed me in the past. My journey the last 3 months has been a fool’s path and I’m just very lucky very lucky. Your first course of action should always be a doctor.
…Says the hypocrite…
But…quite seriously, when you find yourself swimming alone in an ocean of despair the greater likely- hood is you’ll drown if you try to make it to shore yourself. You need help. I have had many years of help and advice, I also have a partner who is a rock of support and I know myself well. It makes me more prone to being idiotic because even with all I know I was still out for the count and useless.
My point is one should not let themselves get that far to begin with.
So The next few blogs will be centred on the last 4 months. I think I owe it to some to explain how I managed to get back to being okay and why I wasn’t okay. I feel too that it needs to be said. A bit more honesty and little less Miss Sunshine. 😀 Also I don’t have the resources to get the help I need. I don’t have the money or the services. I know I can’t be alone in that. So at best it is consolation to others they are not alone, there is hope and if you’re able to, to get help or support. *cheesy grin*
It is idiotic to act like no-one is reading. You are. So it needs to be said this is not for attention or to loudly cry “”Ohhh poor me!!” But to hopefully, responsibly; plot a course through poetry and my thoughts, of circumstance, response, action and growth for learning to be a whole individual.
The first step is feeling. Venting if you will, so it’s all on table as it were to sort through.
…Because more importantly than readers, subscribers (I do appreciate you all, hence my long-winded explanation) and blogs…For myself.
I need to leave sign posts of where I’ve been so that as I continue to travel the maze of life, should I find myself accidentally turned around I will know where to go, what to do and give myself the strength in hope to make it back on track again.
There will be arty -farty, just for fun things in-between. 🙂 I have started an art journal on Twitter. If you would like to follow along you can click on the link below. 🙂
Tikarma on Twitter
At the moment I’ve just been getting used to Twitter but in the next few days you can almost literally (but not in real-time) sit with me as I paint or draw. I’m starting back slowly, in a way that works for me. What matters is that I’m moving, thinking, creating and beginning to live again. 😀
If you’ve made it to the end, thank you.
My best wishes to you all for a blessed week to come.
Illustration not used with permission but “borrowed” with best intentions. 🙂
‘Ace of Swords’ by Tricia Newell for The Mythic Tarot created by Juilet Sharman-Burke and Liz Greene