This poem is one of three. I will post them on three consecutive days instead of once a week because they belong together. Why these? Now? The holidays are often brutal for people with mental illness or suffering from trauma (probably all of us!). Our carefully crafted coping mechanisms are overrun by all things merry and bright. Old patterns of must-haves or must do's overtake us. Too much. Too much. Too much. There isn't enough time, or energy, or money to keep up with the media blitz of a perfect American Holiday Season. Families aren't perfect because people aren't perfect. Old hurts are dragged up like ornaments on a tree, there for everyone to gaze at until they are stuffed into a box and ignored for another whole year. We thought we were all better - until we realized we aren't.
Be kind to yourself. Be kind to one another. Give extra hugs. Spread cheer and joy and hope and love with thoughtful words and small kindnesses. Love sinks into hearts and stays long past the time when a fancy gift is forgotten. Honor boundaries people put on their time and energy. Forgive them on their dark days, celebrate the bright ones they offer to share with you. They are working to be their best selves because they love you. I am working to be my best self because I love you.
xxx ooo
Alice -------
Beneath the Surface I
The phone rings
Hi! How are you?
“Fine.”
on and on and on
they talk
happy - cheerful - facts of the day
I don't remember a word they say
Ok, see ya. I love you.
‘Love you too. By.”
I push the END button
hating them
actually
hating myself
for
saying
“Fine.”
when
The Effort Required
to merely breathe
Pull life into my body
Push it out again
The Weight of
Everything
and Nothing
is my reality
panicky
fingers of thought
scrabbling
gripping
frantic
to hold onto
something
anything
to keep from
tumbling
into
the
a
b
y
s
s
that threatens to swallow me
despite
the pills
the friends
the loving partner
the comfortable home
enough money in the bank
All I can do is cry out
please God
not again
not today
Hits home. I go through periods of despair. Sometimes they are brutal. Still, I find ways to cope. Keeping the thought, "This too shall pass," can be a lifesaver.
Dang, made me cry again.