Self Imprisonment

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Depression can be like a prison cell.

Of which, we’ve condemned ourselves, locked us up and have tossed away the keys.

Waiting for our ‘Meds’ dispersal, thinking, “F*ck, f*ck!” as we pace or rock silently – mind on fire with a million stories.

[Whether it’s prescriptions, alcohol, marijuana, meth, cigarettes, food, internet, television, etc. – you know, our daily unconscious fix.]

“All I have to do, is walk out that door.”

Fear and anxiety consuming the room…

Praying for some peace and semblance that this invisible pain will finally cease.

Nothing between me and a joyous walk outdoors, yet I’m full of ‘reasons’ to remain immobile.

Whether you’re locked away in your room or apartment, or the job you f*cking despise.

It constricts you – your ability to communicate clearly; silenced by some overwhelming force.

My ability to express myself honestly – or lack thereof.

Where’s my self-acceptance? Just thinking that hits me in the gut. What’s this telling me?

Guilt – about what? “Why am I unable to seek pleasure without feeling guilty?”

Why can’t just being me ever be enough? Why don’t I just fit into society? What are normal thoughts – what are they like?

Not always pretty, the truth – but we all need it to grow.

I know depression is real, when I am fully aware that I’m depressed and all I can do is sit, paralyzed – staring at that door.

So I focus inward and eventually, rise up and go outside – whether for a walk or to the grocery store. 

Fresh air, outside.

Other times, I stay where I’m at and retreat into myself further.

At different times, I cry – I sob.

Dark thoughts tempt me to stray from the light.

Further down, deeper into my wounds – the pain resurfaces.

It’s hard to even speak about how it feels without making it real, in this moment.

I was chosen, to feel – deeply.

I’m a sensitive human being – emapthetic, angry, enraged and profoundly compassionate.

Pretty f*cking confusing, right?

What is humanity? 

Where is my own humanity at times? Where is society’s?

“Why, Why?!!!” – I ask, in varying degrees of temperaments to whatever higher power is out there.

Then, a moment of bliss – pure, sensual ,exquisite and blessed peace.

Surreal.

A recognition why I’m here -why all life exists.

Our connection.

Fleeting, lasting and fulfilling – yet, only a glimmer.

Reality is sobering, which is why we often self-soothe, basking in our own denial and pride.

Distraction, upon distraction, upon endless distraction away from reality – the present moment; our full attention held and felt.

My solution to living and getting through it, whatever life has orchestrated for me, is to face my relationship with whatever’s rising up in my life.

Sometimes, solutions arrive and others, my creativity is renewed.

Other times, the darkness consumes me….

Out of this, without fail – a rejuvenated sense of being and purpose  always emerges.

“I feel worthy, for now – I’ll accept that.”

I’m always grateful for the work I’ve done and can pick up on where I last left off.

The smallest self-assurances always help our self-esteem.

For however long it needs to last this time around.

Before my interests in something else are piqued.

There’s no more or less excitement in the moments while we’re here, whether jailed away in mind or at sea in spirit. 

It’s all about choice – not always easy to make however.

Some of our dreams will come true and other fates will prevail.

Fortunately, we live in a society and developing culture where I can speak freely about depression and other mental challenges that have influenced me in profound ways.

Learning that a curse can be, as my childhood mentor says, “a blessing in disguise” helps me see it through.

Let go of the reigns and let the world captivate you for awhile.

Smile and take small steps, when you can.

Breathe slowly into your belly and allow it to expand fully.

This opens your sacral energy to expansion and contributes to gaining self-confidence.

For me, writing is an outlet and I’m incredibly self-conscious about other people reading my words.

But, it’s a release. Like someone who cuts, I imagine. I don’t actually know what that feels like, but I know that my release helps me to keep moving along.

It’s some kind of driving force – inspired through creativity and a gift.

We’ve all inherited a gift.

What’s yours?

Every one’s is precious and unique to their experience.

I’m learning to embrace mine and wish you well on your own journey.

May we turn the tide. (;)

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