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.”) 

What?

“I don’t know if I want to teach.”  After some pretty awesome discussions with various friends and sisters in the US at the moment, I have been a blade of grass in the wind: yes…no….yes…no.  Last night after talking things out with the lovely Janae, I was more back to the “yes” part again.  And I began to reason why.  Writing my philosophy of music education paper has been helping in these thoughts, as well.  This morning, I put all my thoughts on paper in a momologue:

 

To teach, or not to teach, that is the question:

Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to go crazy

The slings and arrows of endless music

Or to take arms against a sea of sporadic energy, attitudes, and moods

And by opposing avoid them.  To teach, to be a little crazy—

Yay more—and by crazy to say become the true music nerd I was born (always)

The headache, and the thousand natural shocks

That being a teacher in the public schools are heir to.  ‘Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be undesired.  To teach, to be too busy—

To be too busy, perhaps to bring on a physical catastrophe; nay, there’s my fear.

For in that catastrophe there is an unpredictable aspect

What would happen before and during recovery;

This is my hesitation.  There’s the faith

That I can’t find when it comes to these things.

For what problems are too big for my God?

None exists, for he is bigger than it all.

The pangs of fear, the doubt’s grasp,

The lack of confidence, and the hesitancy

That loom in the thought of being in a public school.

Who but my God could drown these out,

And fill instead with peace and confidence,

With grace?  Who but my God could carry me

Through any trials that come my way.

But that love of something there instead,

The music and students who explore it.

How could I abandon these and relinquish

To one that may not teach as well or

Give the opportunities I might provide?

This opposing thought puzzles the will,

And makes me lean the other way again.

I may not be the best at everything my classmates here are,

But I have different qualities that will be the best where I am.

I know not where I may be or what I’ll teach

But if the call comes through and I hear it, I’ll go.

With this regard the currents of doubt turn away

And lose themselves is my passion for the music.  – Soft you now,

The fair melodies and rhythms!  —  Future employers, in thy interviews

Be all my passions visible.