deepundergroundpoetry.com

Just Another Day

"Sometimes, when I'm left
alone, with my thoughts--
I think about horrible,
terrible, aweful stuff
that is going to happen
to my family or my friends,
in the future or myself.  
And it scares me and I
don't know how to make it
stop."
 
She looks at me says:
 
"That's catastrophic thinking,
everyone does it but some
people-- Like you, whom have
had so many bad things happen
in such a short amount of time
expect something bad to happen
after a while. And so your mind
makes up all the possibly
horrible things that it can think
of happening to you.
It's possibly linked
to
your  
d e p r e s s i o n--"
 
 
There's that word again.
And now I have a new problem wrong with me.
I think about horrible things,
because I'm so use to horrible things happening to me.
 
Well isn't that just wonderful?
 
My father was distant from me as I child.
I moved around constantly.
My parents marriage fell apart with 7 years.
My mother's boyfriend abused me.
My grandma died.
My step-father abused me.
My best friend stopped talking to me.
I fell in love with a guy I never met.
My grandfather died.
I fell in love with a guy over the internet.
My girlfriend abused me.
For a year and three months.
And then let me go.
Because I cheated on her.
Because I couldn't take it anymore.
And then I fell in love with my best friend.
Whom saved me from myself.
But that story has been told one too many times before.  
Then my dog I had since I was 3rd grade died.
And then I was harassed by doctors.
And told that I should terminate my pregnancy by nurses.
I was tested by my boyfriend's family.
And felt constantly that I would lose my baby.
From the stress and bullshit that his parents put me through.
And then my father died.  
And we had a really bad case of lice that scarred me for life.
And I'm kind of afraid to get pregnant again.
Because I was put down so much by doctors and nurses.
Who wouldn't let me leave the hospital unless I was put on some kind of birth control.
Because really what I was thinking about was sex after having my first child.
By time I was ready to make love again.
The first dose of the birth control had worn off.
Taking my sanity and my writing abilities with it.  
That for five monthes after my son's birth.
I had writer's block.
Plus I was bedridden, couldn't move.
Depression was my friend, stayed by my bed side.
My land lady took away my therapy cat.
And told me that if I was mentally unstable.
I should be in a mental hospital.  
And my boyfriend's parents told us we were just "playing house".
And that he would not be a good father.
That being a student was more imporant that helping me raise our child.
And I would never make a good mother.  
And there were arguments, fights and more than enough mental breakdowns to count.
And of course there the constant stories that just couldn't seem to start working.
So now I expect the worse to happen--
 
My boyfriend hasn't spoke to his family in monthes.
Is it my fault?
What if something happens to someone?
His grandfather?
His grandmother?
His father whom is up in age?
What if something happened to them?
Will it be my fault that he wasn't speaking to them.
 
And my mother?
I don't listen to her talk about bills.
What am I going to do when she's not here?
And I don't know what to do?
She talks about life ensurance.
And it freaks me out.
Is she dying?
Is she planning on killing herself?
I don't want to yell at her.
Or make her cry.
I love my mother.
And never want her to die.
But when I love someone too much they slip away.
Just look at Grandma and Grand-dad whom have both passed away.
But then if I forget to show someone how much I care.
I wasn't grateful for their time that they shared.
And that was how I felt when my dad was gone.  
Ripped my hands too soon to go.
Too soon before I realized how much I cared about him.
How much I needed to say to him.
I wish I hadn't waited until he was unconcious on his death bed.  
So please, oh please I don't want my mother to die.
I'll have no family left.
 
 
And what if my boyfriend and I had a very bad arguement.
And when I tell him to get out, he does for good and doesn't come back.
And we find out that there was an accident.
He was hit by a car, wandering the streets at night, wearing black and the car didn't seem in time.
And he's gone and the last thing I said to him was don't ever come back--
That I hate him and I don't need him.
And now he never will come back.
And it will be all my fault.  
My son will never know his father.
I will never have my one true love again.
What will become of Gaige and I?
If someone was to happen between Andrew and I?
What will I do if I pushed him so hard that I regretted it the most in the end?
 
What if I got too sad one day.
And I really did kill myself.
Like I say I want to do.
And there they are standing over my body.
Laying in a casket crying.
And my son and my boyfriend and my mom are all well.
They live for many years more.
And I'm all alone on the other side.
And have no way of getting home.
God won't take me.
Satan isn't real.
Limbo is too crowded and so I'm forced--
To watch and suffer, watching my son grow without a mother.
My books never get finished.
My boyfriend finds someone better.
And my mother goes insane without her one and only daughter.
And I try to talk and try to speak.
But nobody can hear me.
And it's all because of that threat I always say.
That I want to kill myself
That I realize I don't really mean.  
 
Those are the thoughts that run through my mind.
All of my loved ones have died, my mom's probably next.
Will mine and my boyfriend's next arguement truely be our last.
Will my son grow up with two parents or one?
Will he end up seeing one on weekends?
Or from the visiting side of a mental asylum?
Will I kill myself all because the words won't flow.
Or will I suffer through it only for my mother and boyfriend to leave me in the end?
Why is life I such a gamble, when I've never been one to bet.
It makes the temperenced want to drink.
Considering life is just one big test.
Either you make it through it and pass.
Or you die early and fail hard.  
 
Was is the point of living & dying?
Why were even put on this Earth?
If were just going to end up questioning--
Every move we make.
Every step we take.
 
Or maybe I'm just looking too far into it again.  
You know me,
and  
my  
d e p r e s s i o n
and of course there's my brand new
c a t a s t r o p h i c
thinking.

Where I'm just sitting here,
thinking and waiting,
and you know expecting
something
bad
to
h a p p e n.
Written by Page_Writer (Mad Girl)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0 reading list entries 0
comments 1 reads 868
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
POETRY
Today 6:23am by Abracadabra
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:08am by SweetKittyCat5
COMPETITIONS
Today 6:00am by DCLXVI_1989
COMPETITIONS
Today 3:48am by Gahddess_Worship
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:20am by SweetKittyCat5
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:13am by Josiah