Despair 2015-26

Despair    2015-26

“Whoa, what a subject! This poem came from the bottom of the barrel, the bottom of the pit of depression, when things seemed so horrible in my life over twenty years ago. This was probably written when I was in a state of clinical depression and where I finally found professional help to combat my feelings of despair at the time. I was more confused than ever due to a head injury and not really knowing what happened and why exactly, things were the way they were then.

 

I would ask my wife, “Why?” for everything I did not understand. She, being a working RN at the time, would calmly tell me, “It is because of your injury”. Then, five minutes later another “Why” on my part, again. The very fact she was a professional was very helpful and her ability to know the reasons for my depression helped so very much.  Jim, my therapist, finally got me to realize that it was “IT”, the head injury, and not ME the person that was the problem. He might have saved my life.

 

I include this poem, “Despair” and another one later, “Fifth Horseman”, which ties in with the Despair one,  to give the reader insight as to how those with mental situations of all types, sometimes, might feel inside when they are experiencing the things of life that happen to them. I will try not to include these types of poems in the future though, as they are somewhat depressing and bring back memories of a past life. At times, though, it is important to recall those things that affected your life.

 

Despair    2015-26

Despair, the blackness, the bottomless pit,

Oh God, when will I get out of it?

I hate this life of confusing thoughts,

This different me, inside this human box.

My mind that controls most everything,

Isn’t right, and makes me a different being.

The layered convolutes of my infernal brain,

Is like a parasite, racked with wavy pain.

Why can’t I get normal or better, more soon?

If this keeps up, it is leading to doom.

The ups and the downs I have each day,

Make me hate this life in every way.

Please God, make me better, and give me some hope,

I don’t like this life; it’s too hard to cope.

Den Betts

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