Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Ocean of life

For months my therapist has asked me how depression makes me feel. I could never find the words. A few weeks ago, the words came to me as I woke up. I wrote it down and shared it with my therapist and, she thought I should share it here, on my blog. My virtual home, and with all of my friends.

So . . . here goes. *As a warning, it is very dark . . .

The Ocean of life 
by Murees Dupé

I’m swimming along,
In the ocean that is life.
My head is above water.
So I smile.

I land in a riptide,
And it pulls me along,
Off my course.
I fight to get free.
My arms and legs are tired,
And I sink.

I need to keep my head above water.
But I can’t.
I swallow water,
And it’s salty.

I’m not ready to die.
So, I force myself to fight.
I swim again.
I need to keep my head above water.

I’m free.
The riptide no longer has me,
In it’s grasp.
I swim along again,
In the ocean of life.
I need to get back on course.

I can see the shore.
But, something grabs my leg,
And pulls me under.
I fight, I struggle,
But I cannot get free.

Others swim along side me.
Free as can be.
But I cannot fight anymore.
I surrender to the darkness.
As it will never let me go free.
It will never let me be.

* * * * * * * * 
Getting back to blogging has been harder than I expected. I'm mostly struggling on what to say. I don't want to burden anyone with my inner darkness, even though my therapist encourages me to share more of this darker side. 

I will not be rejoining the IWSG. I'm sorry if I'm letting anyone down. I will still be around to cheer you on, and share some encouragement when you're down. I am basically posting whenever the mood strikes. I don't want to commit, and then fail to post. 



I'm starting to write again. Little bits everyday. But I'll take it. At least I'm writing again. My brain is very unfit. It has to get back to exercising again:) 

So, I'm doing better. How are you doing?

16 comments:

  1. No worries about the IWSG. Rather have you back as often as you are able. We'll do our best to be a lifering for you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That poem is a very good description of depression. It won't bother me if you share how you really feel. I've done so on my blog many times. It's always helped me feel better.

    Love,
    Janie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for the support, Janie. Saying exactly how I feel is so strange.

      Delete
  3. Hi Murees - that's good you're doing better. I love the poem - and certainly self-expression can really help ... so share a few more thoughts or poems with us ... all the best - Hilary

    ReplyDelete
  4. That poem really is an amazing description of depression. I'm so sorry you are dealing with this but at the same time so impressed by your writing ability. It's such a raw piece that really hits home. Like Janie it won't bother me at all if you share how you're feeling. We are all here for you. Hugs!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much, Julie. Showing my darker side is so hard. I fear I might lose a few friends here because of it.

      Delete
  5. Keep stretching that writing and creative muscle! You can do this, Murees - you can manage the depression, you can write and create, you can live. :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. You come first, Muree. I'm cheering for you.

    ReplyDelete
  7. You need cheese? Oh heck, why am I asking? Have all the cheeses. One day at a time. That was the plaque my brother gave me when I was away from home and struggling to keep my head above water. One day at a time. And I think sometimes that translates to one hour, or one minute, or even one second. Keep up the fight, and when you're too tired, use this cheese raft, eh?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Crystal. The cheese raft really came in handy, and it's delicious. One moment at a time does work for me, as I can feel completely different a few hours later.

      Delete

Feel free to leave comments. I love comments. But no spam, or hate speech. Your comments will be deleted, and I'd wish you a painful death, and your soul to turn to nothingness.

What is the point?

Today I was plagued with the idea, why? And why?  Everywhere these days there's a silent rule imposed by some invisible person or person...