Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Depression is Like an Angry Barn Cat

God I haven’t been this depressed in a long time.

For me, depression is like an angry barn cat. I don’t notice it until it appears, hissing and scratching. And just when I think that it can’t be too bad, because afterall, it’s a cute little cat…..WHAP…..the claws come out. And that’s when I know that I’m in the barn, trapped. I’ve got to get used to the darkness and the dust, because right now, that’s where I live.

It’s hard for someone who hasn’t dealt with this type of mental illness to understand the complexities involved. It is for the person experiencing the symptoms, too. Because each time there are nuances…different feelings and emotions that erupt like a volcano, not knowing when the mountain will explode. Hoping there are no casualties. Knowing that there probably will be a few. Hoping it’s not me, this time.

I can throw the darts and aim for the target.
I’ll miss but I’ll try
I can’t see the bullseye.

I know the point of the game;
I just don’t want to play.
I can’t make sense of it.
I’ll never get it right.
I’m not a good aim.

I can’t see the lines
I know I’m going to lose
I know the darts won’t go far enough or fast enough to stick.
I know I will lose.

They bounce off the wall nowhere near their destination. No points. Laugh it off. It’s just paint on the wall. But people get mad that you’ve damaged something. That you’ve ruined something beautiful. If you just knew what you were doing you could be right. You could do right but you’re not right so you can’t be right. Isn’t that right? I throw and I throw and I can’t get there and I see the lines and I see the destination and I keep throwing and throwing and losing each time. In despair. And I’m frustrated and I’m a loser and I can’t help being a loser and I can’t help feeling like a trapped animal and I can’t help smelling of darkness and dust.

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