Depression, MS, and Wit in a Poem

It tiptoes into peripheral sight,
And stays to take away the light.  
The darkness makes its home there;
Until you realize you were unaware.  

But I didn’t notice this until
I found myself climbing up the hill!
The flat and happy ground was green,
But this hill is dry and brown and mean.

Depression sneaks up to the unsuspecting;
It makes one think they are the one rejecting.  

It causes feelings that don’t belong,
It places monotone where there once was song.
This hemeola of emotions, this fighting of sorts
Leads to modulation that’s unwelcome, of course!

One day I’ll be down, and the next snap out of it.
It’s like this other unpredictable disease a bit.  
Depression is a symptom of MS, as well.  
Which is just my luck– but I won’t dwell!  

If it gets bad enough I’ll go see my doc.
But coming out myself wouldn’t be a shock.
Just like everything else I’ve been given,
I’m too busy to notice it–I’m livin’!  

So before you go and hand me your pity,
Allow me to give you an answer that’s wity:
I may not be from Mississippi, have a master’s degree or be a medical specialist,
But I AM Mega Smart, Mighty Sarcastic, and Marvelously Sweet.  
Just ask my sister mom husband. (We still qualify as “newlyweds.”) 

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In the Depths of Me

This was written a few weeks ago.  It is pretty personal, but I thought I’d share, because I know I’m not the only one who’s got crap to deal with.  I have a hard time letting people in, and this is one of the reasons. It was really therapeutic to write, and I thought that it would also be therapeutic to share.  –Anna

 

A sadness lies in the depths of me.

Of all the feelings I have, I’d rather be happy.

So I pay no heed to what could bring me down.

I’d much rather show the world a smile than a frown.

My biggest fear is being selfish and raising up myself.

I don’t like people that way, but is this tolling my health?

 

A sadness lies in the depths of me.

When I move to reveal it, tears run free.

A wall has been standing I didn’t know was there.

Barred across a window is a sign warning, “beware.”

With a deep breath I move the sign to take a look.

But as soon as I do, I want to return to my safe nook.

 

There are dark and messy feelings mixed in with the sadness.

I am overwhelmed—how has in me been all this madness?

There is so much there, I don’t want to deal.

But a whisper prompts me: “It’s time to get real.”

Through the window I see me, wading through the mess.

This part of me has been blocked off, abandoned in distress.

 

I watch me limping through the muddy, untouched feelings.

I wonder how I got there, behind the wall’s concealings.

I am lonely and bruised; hurt and abused.

I’ve pretended things don’t bother me, while behind the wall is heartbreak’s gathering.

The me inside picks up a sign, and holds it for me to see.

“Less of me, Lord, more of you,” the proclamation sings.

I’ve believed that humility is making myself less.

But that’s a lie I’ve believed that helped make the mess.

I’ve pushed myself so far down that I’m stuck behind this wall.

Nobody gets in or out, no negativity, or anything at all.

 

I watch myself as I sort through the rubble.

I want me to stop, because I know it’ll bring trouble.

Slowly, I see all of what’s inside.

Slowly, I find all I try to hide.

 

Fear is something in there that’s reoccurring.

Fear of failure, of unacceptance, of the future?  It’s concurring.

I see the loneliness that has been there longer than I’ve known.

In it, doubts and depression have established their home.

I see in there the disease that’s still stuck with me.

Standing outside the wall, I am aware that I can’t get free.

I’ve cast its negativity over the wall,

But it still grasps me, though I appall.

 

The feelings inside notice something is amiss.

They want to escape; they let out a hiss.

“We’re not all bad,” they cry, though I can’t believe them.

“You’ve left memories, here, too!” I wince as they condemn.

“But I put them there for a reason,” I cry through the window’s glass.

“I don’t want them anymore!” And then my nightmares amass.

 

Lies begin to fill my head, as the window’s pane is shattered.

The me inside moves toward me now, to the sound of the words batter.

“Help me,” she wept as she approached her better-off self.

I backed away, shaking, before she could touch me herself.

“You’ve done enough damage,” I said from a distance.

“But Anna, this is your doing, your consistence.”

I kneel to the ground and weep aloud.

“I don’t know what to do,” I cry into the cloud.

 

“Anna,” a voice says, causing me to raise my eyes.

It’s Jesus, my Lord, and he helps me rise.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper to him. “Look at all I’ve done!”

“Anna,” he says again, “I’ve already won.”

I shake my head, because I don’t know what to do.

“Let me help,” he says, “And I will renew.”

 

Taking my hand, Jesus leads me to the mess.

I pause when we reach it, but a tug leads me to progress.

I must face everything that’s behind this wall,

Though I can’t see its entirety ‘cuz I’m not that tall.

A sadness lies in the depths of me.

Maybe someday soon, I will finally be free.