In the Light of Moon Lake

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Oh depression you caught up,
Cloaked in your own special way snug in the fast paced days of July,
The rain distorted my broken thoughts,
Allured by the dark sky and the surrounding trees by Moon Lake and all its beauty
My sleeping partner cannot breach my sad state of mind
Depression,  you silently caught up like an oncoming cold in the past couple weeks
Epiphanies came rolling in like clouds in the lapse of the night
Suppressed memories exhumed themselves in the quiet of the hollow tent
Intrusive emotions ravaged soft moments,
Inhibiting the truest of feelings and words that could have been shared
Instead anger took over
And words came out stuttered, stifled, or sometimes nothing could be said at all
Premonition has lingered
And now to deal with the new responsibilities
Cigarettes roused my lost touch of creativity while slowly smoldering my healthy lungs
When the dawn had come I awoke to feeling in a self-deprecated state,
The day sped by fast in the deep depths of dark thinking
That moon, how it arose too soon
The long hours of self-hatred had ran its course
A reminder that the day was over, and night had come for its shift
And I was to sleep, arise with strength in hopes for a fresh sense of mind
Diving into this pit of nothingness to a place of lost finds

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Stillness

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In the days where the waning hour was far from closing
Screen windows shuttered by the blustering wind
The rain raged breaking through the weight of the clouds
Creases in the bed evoked imprints on my skin
Fading maps
Stillness
Little sounds leaked through the walls
Scaling notes, crying children, creaks, ticks, running taps, and all
Objects unmoved
The motion of the suites down below could not breach the frozen room
Far from trepidation in belief that only good can come
Sitting in silence my belly rises and falls
I close my eyes, flip the lamp switch to and its back to sleep
Where I let dreams of love sweep me oblivion
And the ambience to carry me through the night
Sleep tight
It will be all alright
Goodnight

Spring Dreams

img_6925Hard pressed against the bench, my hands clutched around my hips
The kiss of dirt it brushed my lips and my bare skin a target to the spring winds
The minutes flew by
Banal thoughts of the evening that lies ahead
Existential dread
The mallards coupled awaiting for the sun to shine
For their chicks to hatch to flourish and grow at the speed of the garden weeds
My eyes a witness to the budding of the trees
The dancing crows strutted across the pond
Sleek black feathers, beady eyes, and all
Turtle took a slow crawl hauling the weight of the water and the world
And in the western lands you stood at bay and watched the ducks
The spread out city contrasted with the tall timber trees

Okanagan breeze

You plant life shovel in hand,
While lumber and concrete creates the urban city streets
Squirrels run down the power lines, rabbits nosh on the tall green grass
Raccoons they thrash their heads through rotting trash munching on their forbidden snacks
A crisp air shared from east to west we took our breaths in solidarity
And in the prairies, the dull green horizon does not wait for you
The flowers blossom and summer expectations are met by the closing of spring
And here I sit thoughts alive and full of you
Bedazzled like a sunflower turned towards the sun
Rejoiced by Daydreaming till the moon pushes through
Goodnight, good day, to the forest, and to you

Dissonance and Low Tide

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It took hold,
Fast and furious
Vintage cars,
Pink, purple, blue, and red
Ripped down the road
You stood further in proximity
This body a sad case of lost curiosity
And the Caribbean wind whipped away at my fragile state
The voices hollered, drums drummed, the chimes rung through the narrow streets
The dogs they weaselled through the slow paced legs
And the clouded moonlit sky deceived my sudden dread
Voiced my dreams and let them float away
Adrift with the dying hope of reciprocity
I watched my I love you never come back to me
Hands aimlessly grasping for the reluctant grip and those space eyes to take me in
They tend to be incompatible with your mind drifting somewhere in time
Solemn for the journey, in for the trip,
Unrequited confessions lay flat on the Malecon
To be shattered by the waves that crash with the low tide

 

Waves and Ruts

A wall, a rut, curse of the brain
Trapped in the window seat, clutching to the escape
Eyes soothed by the rolling clouds,
And when they close, muddied thoughts take the reign
Drained of the noise, the howling souls go away
5 wide breaths and a nose full of dampened air
Fallen into deep sleep, caressed by the fabrics of the airplane chair
1000 ft. above beloved Poseidon and his blue tidal waves
And my body it falls into revolt to rude awakening
The plane it touched the ground
And so did my reality

Bell Let’s Talk

 

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Know that everyday you are not alone. 1 in 5 Canadians if not more experience mental illness in our lifetime including myself. The conversation, may it never end, let’s keep the dialogue ongoing and open. Although Bell may be operating on potentially a double standard, it is truly amazing how many people I have seen sharing their personal stories & know that there is support and ears that are open to listening. There is no health without mental health so I thought I would share a snippet from my walk last week on the river. Practicing self care is important not just looking for what will raise our self esteem but also how we can practice compassion towards ourselves.

#BellLetsTalk

Since I am not brave enough to share with my main go to’s of social media I thought I would share this very personal piece on this blog. The following was written a couple of years ago I was slipping in and out of depression and struggling with bulimia. In 2012 I sunk to a low pit attempted suicide. Not long after the attempt, I was diagnosed with Bulimia, 2013 I did 6 months of therapy, in 2014 I was sought counselling for CPTSD (Complex post traumatic stress disorder). For 6 years I actively had an eating disorder and harmed myself in anyway I could except mutilation. Often people assumed I was too happy, high functioning, normal sized to struggle with mental illness. It was often invisible unless it was someone who had lived with me. It was not until around the end of 2015 where I began to seriously overcome it I like to think now I have recovered, built a strong foundation, and have acquired the right life tools. But then again life is a journey , I slip up from time to time, and I can’t do anything more than expect the unexpected and live day by day.

Anyways, here it is:

August.2015

Ballerina Tea Bags and Self Loathing 

My eyes open at face of dawn, the sun pushes its way through my blindness windowsill. I lay stagnant as my mind processes the day ahead and the wind brushes against my naked body. The blankets leave imprints upon my skin, the proof of a long slumber, My eyes scan my cluttered surroundings, I then look below to see my face, the tip of my nose, following my large breasts, flabby belly, hip bones, furry pubic bone all radiating heat. It was as if all the warmth had left my heart to console my body in my already warm room.

Before I sit myself up a plan has already been made, half already set out with work the rest left to my insecurities. The free time ahead brings a pending anxiety because I know as soon as I get up the mirror awaits me. I look at the mirror, and it tells me the answer. The same answer it is every time, that the world awaits, and I am not worthy of it. So my body falls to a made up string of false impulses, and my mind can’t help but to follow. A set of invisible challenges, falling to hours of self-destruction, time passes and the only clarity I get is the inevitable self-hate and the reminder that I picked it over my friends, I picked it over a nice cup of coffee, I picked it out of being productive, I picked it over my family. My eyes tear, fighting, falling, crying an invisible struggle.

Mindful stability alone has become a myth, a fallacy ruled by inconsistency.  Years of the same old self convictions of being unlovable, intangible, too much to handle, another troubled soul.  As result, I’ve created an iron cage of my own sickness inhaling the red dust, delirious from the thought of my own sadness and loneliness. As time passes, I will grow too large for this cage, and will inevitable sink in the soil, like an elephant in quicksand.

The line between yearning to be alone, has faded into my own bottomless pit of social anxiety, isolated by my own thoughts. The pacing within this head is tiresome, weak from the knee down, bruised from the waist up, disintegrating from within.

The ebs and flows of these tidal waves have become erosive, rolling away with fragments flaking away with each tide. Scattered reflections of a depressed self is seen by the way the clothes lay across my floor, a cupboard, a fridge of food half empty, and a toilet bowl full. A pile of empty laxative bottles, and over used three ballerina extra strength tea bags in the trash. Leftover remnants of a sexual escapade, or a computer filled with erogenous triggers. The only source of comfort received is the concrete that meets my feet and my arms that have the potential to wrap around my body. Hugs are painful a reminder to keep running shoes near in fear of another quick leaving soul to come and go through this broken door.  My dreams keep this soul alive, awaiting sleep to awaken to a hope that maybe one one day the sun shine and bring my body and mind back to life. That one day I will heal and truly learn to love me.

Jibber Jabber

Yesterday was really rough, but anyways here is a poem I wrote this week, a sunset, and a wishing for better days…

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Dibble, dabble, babble
Silly tongue, it runs short of words to create
My eyes flood this interpersonal landscape
Throat dry, CO2 what have you
I tried to take you in but you were too hard to swallow
Your body a roadmap with endless trails to follow
So it slips my lips
Babble, rabble,
Gibberish
Gabble
jibberjabber
Malfunction
Fall of the jaw
Uneasy fingers fidget
While these legs wobble ready to fall
Knees ready to kneel
And my heart coincidentally has plunged to the ground
But these eyes can’t help but wonder away
Out of your face, and ready to hit the hay
I guess it’s been a day