How To Catch A Break Mental Health-Wise (A Poem)

Note: What works for me may not work for you (and vice-versa).

When I stop and think of reading into things, I must realize that that is, 9 times out of 10, my brain wanting to grab ahold of something unhealthy.

I have to accept that this is what’s happening, no matter how much I want to engage in that moment.

I must be stronger than my symptoms wanting to take hold!

It isn’t pretty when I entertain said symptoms, so I choose to stay busy enough in general, that I can sometimes catch a break.

In the moments leading up to my becoming overtired, it is important to move towards resting.

I’ve tried to avoid naps, but for me, that doesn’t help!

By lying down when it’s absolutely essential, it reduces the likelihood of my getting worse.

Taking the time for self-care does my body just as much good, as my keeping a running list of daily tasks.

So, I do what’s helpful for improving my mental health, and saving myself a lot of unnecessary pain.

The Pain (A Poem)

I thought the pain would go away.
I thought it might disappear.
At least for a day or two.
But, I was wrong.
It didn’t leave.
Except for an hour if that.
I realized the pain is always there.
That it’s never going to go away.
That it won’t disappear.
That it will last more than a day or two.
I wish I was wrong.
When will it leave?
Hour after hour, it’s still here.

Allow Me To Just Cry (A Poem)

It’s how I feel.
Life effing sucks.
Sorry, I have limited ability to see my life as positive.
I have limited ability to see my life as fun.
This has nothing to do with the corona virus, and everything to do with mental illness.
I imagine it’s my depression that makes me feel so sad.
Even when I could go out, it was difficult for me to do.
In any event, I’d like for this pain to just dissipate.
But, will it ever?
It’s not likely to permanently do so.
I’m sorry.
I think I’ll just cry.

When Suffering Makes You Good

Nothing has helped mold me more than suffering. Nothing.

Suffering, to me, is how we become better people.

No one knows what goes on behind closed doors, but I can tell you (in a generic sense), that suffering has made me “good.”

Now, I have plenty of piss poor thoughts in my head, that I chalk up to being human. And so, that is to be expected.

“I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.” — Joseph Baretti

What are some things that you think classifies a good person?