deepundergroundpoetry.com
Just Feel, They Said
Hello, DU.
I know, I've been gone for quite a while. And I miss everything.
The picture here best depicts how I've been the past two months. Bare, save for my underwear, a trusty fluffy pillow to keep me company. A phone with calls and messages that are never answered. A blanket to cover me when it turns chilly, which is a rare occurrence where I live. So yes, it does end up at the foot of my bed. Books, pens, papers, and clothes everywhere. And me. Hiding. Me and the music. Me and the fictional people. Me and the madness in my head. Disconnected.
On my 17th birthday, after 9 months of being diagnosed with depression, I was told that what I actually have is bipolar-II disorder. That explains the extreme highs and lows in my crazy life which, I believe, can also be seen in my writing. It was difficult. It is difficult. And too much. Too much to be put into words, sometimes it seems that I would burst.
So...why stop writing? I don't really know the reason. I guess like I did to everything else, I pushed it away. My friends, my family, even myself, I think. My mind is a constant mess, racing from here to there. Different medicines shoved down my throat and thrown up, sleepless nights and days where I can barely stay awake. That day when the nurse that took two tubes of my blood that I was so young to have BPD. Yep, tpd has BPD. I was, still am, overwhelmed by the flurry of thoughts and questions in my head. For an hour I am happy, the next I want to kill somebody. Then I'm this goddess in my head and a wallowing mess the next. I do not know who I'll be next. What my crazy mind would come up with to do. So...in comes the aforementioned meds!
The meds do give me stability, for which I am utterly grateful. But sometimes, my emotions would decide to party inside me once more so I'm more confused and flustered and mad and crazy and desperate than ever. I've always seen myself as a walking contradiction. Seems like I couldn't be any more right. And now I question my future, I question my life. Are my thoughts my thoughts or my medicine induced thoughts? What of my feelings and emotions? It's like searching for a reality inside yourself... My mother had a few words about it: "Just feel."
I can go on and on and on with this and not know whether anyone cares enough to read this. But you know, I would at least listen to my mom, but for writing. Just write.
Love and light always,
thepositivelydark
I know, I've been gone for quite a while. And I miss everything.
The picture here best depicts how I've been the past two months. Bare, save for my underwear, a trusty fluffy pillow to keep me company. A phone with calls and messages that are never answered. A blanket to cover me when it turns chilly, which is a rare occurrence where I live. So yes, it does end up at the foot of my bed. Books, pens, papers, and clothes everywhere. And me. Hiding. Me and the music. Me and the fictional people. Me and the madness in my head. Disconnected.
On my 17th birthday, after 9 months of being diagnosed with depression, I was told that what I actually have is bipolar-II disorder. That explains the extreme highs and lows in my crazy life which, I believe, can also be seen in my writing. It was difficult. It is difficult. And too much. Too much to be put into words, sometimes it seems that I would burst.
So...why stop writing? I don't really know the reason. I guess like I did to everything else, I pushed it away. My friends, my family, even myself, I think. My mind is a constant mess, racing from here to there. Different medicines shoved down my throat and thrown up, sleepless nights and days where I can barely stay awake. That day when the nurse that took two tubes of my blood that I was so young to have BPD. Yep, tpd has BPD. I was, still am, overwhelmed by the flurry of thoughts and questions in my head. For an hour I am happy, the next I want to kill somebody. Then I'm this goddess in my head and a wallowing mess the next. I do not know who I'll be next. What my crazy mind would come up with to do. So...in comes the aforementioned meds!
The meds do give me stability, for which I am utterly grateful. But sometimes, my emotions would decide to party inside me once more so I'm more confused and flustered and mad and crazy and desperate than ever. I've always seen myself as a walking contradiction. Seems like I couldn't be any more right. And now I question my future, I question my life. Are my thoughts my thoughts or my medicine induced thoughts? What of my feelings and emotions? It's like searching for a reality inside yourself... My mother had a few words about it: "Just feel."
I can go on and on and on with this and not know whether anyone cares enough to read this. But you know, I would at least listen to my mom, but for writing. Just write.
Love and light always,
thepositivelydark
Published 20th Oct 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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20th Oct 2014 3:53pm
I don't know you but I hope you get well. I can relate . I am not a doctor but sometimes medication don't work I guess you already know that , but just try to relax your mind which is easier said than done lol . Try and have a great day I'm also trying right now . :)
20th Oct 2014 3:59pm
Thank you so much. I truly appreciate it. And now I'm tearing up! Haha. I hope you have a great day, too. :)
20th Oct 2014 8:28pm
the artwork is very impressive, despite the agony it represents. I'll assume you drew it.
your journalistic composition is so emotional & heartfelt. stand by the people who love & help you, there is strength within you to carry you through, to a time when a great many will read your superb writing...
your journalistic composition is so emotional & heartfelt. stand by the people who love & help you, there is strength within you to carry you through, to a time when a great many will read your superb writing...
21st Oct 2014 2:51am
Thank you so much, sir, you've always been one of those who took the time to read and comment on what I write. And always it is very deeply appreciated. I want to take credit for the artwork, but unfortunately my skill in drawing is not that good. Again thank you, thank you so much, for your support. :)
Deeply felt. We exchanged a few messages ago and I never thought you're dealing with something of importance.
I talked to a sweet girl who's funny, smart, always trying to bring light even in darkest moment. I pray you'll be okay and one day be ready to face life again with so much enthusiasm.
Hang on.
I talked to a sweet girl who's funny, smart, always trying to bring light even in darkest moment. I pray you'll be okay and one day be ready to face life again with so much enthusiasm.
Hang on.
21st Oct 2014 3:07am
Thank you so much for your kind words, this truly means a lot to me. :') I hope, too, that the girl you are talking about comes back soon 'coz I kinda miss her...
