As I've stated in other posts, I've used writing as a coping mechanism for many, many years. A couple months ago, things got really, really bad for me. Between COVID and finances and a new puppy and a toddler and an old puppy and work, I hit a period of darkness. I hadn't felt that low I was feeling in over a year. I have my bad days and bad moments, but this round of depression was definitely the worst.
I wrote what was supposed to be more of a poem style excerpt; but does anyone else read it with their inner rap gangster?
This excerpt is a draft. It's very rough, hasn't been looked over or edited, and doesn't have proper grammar. It ends abruptly since, as I wrote this, I was able to read what I was feeling and acknowledge that it wasn't good. I was able to pull myself out of it - slightly - to get through my day at least.
This is raw from the center of my being.
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Am I justified feeling this way? With no trauma, no hurt, and no pain. It’s all up in my brain, what else can I say? I’m fighting so hard to keep this head raised.
Work everyday – “get money, get paid!” Where the fuck is my money? It’s gone right away. With daycare and rent, in one day its all spent. Groceries and gas, away it all went Jeans falling apart, but I can’t afford a new pair. Same sweater everyday on the back of my chair. Options to choose from but nothing fits right, Get dressed in the dark to not see in the light. Depression and anxiety that is the pair. Hands on my head, now I’m pulling my hair. The pain feels so good; don’t think it should. Ha, I drew some blood; I didn’t think I could.
I got some weed, thought it’s all I would need. But it ain’t doing its trick; out like a wick. I’m looking for something stronger, Something that will last a little bit longer,
Wait…What the fuck am I saying?
Curiosity getting the best of me;
Thinking ‘bout powder bigger than weed,
Feeling like floating on clouds in the sky;
Would that little white snow, give me that high;
A smoke, or a poke; a pill I can pop.
Something to make these feelings go stop.
Nah, that ain’t an option; that’s just not me.
I’ll just continue to puff on my weed.
Used to imagine driving into walls and just crashing. But I used to go driving just to provide a distraction. So, I went to the doctor to get medication, Cause killing yourself ain’t like a vacation.
You don’t get to come back when your life has been taken;
No matter how pushed, rattled, or shaken
The world goes on.
So yeah, my words come out rambled when my mind is in shambles.
I’ll tell you it’s true that these thoughts are there;
But believe me when I say that these thoughts are rare.
I got a little boy now; man, does he make me proud;
His cute little face lights up this whole place.
I know where I stand, I know what to do.
Be the best I can be, for this little dude.
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