I am Sick

I’m sick of seeing dying children paying the price for the wars of old men. I am sick of the tears running down my face as those small, motionless bodies are handed to the devastated, broken parents. I am sick of the violations minorities of every sort, in every corner of the world, experience on a daily basis for simply existing. I am sick of shedding tears in quiet, helpless horror, unable even to formulate thoughts because of the utter travesty mankind has heaped upon itself and on the very Earth itself. One day it is a suicide bombing and the next it is a mass shooting. All of us seek to find some kind of closure after each of these, however unaffected we are. No matter how numb we may have become to the plights of others, we seek meaning. The truth is there is no meaning other than power and financial gain for the powerful.

It is always the weak, the helpless, the innocent, and the meek who are maimed, slaughtered, violated, disfigured and enslaved. Why must we act even worse than the animals we pride ourselves for ruling over? What kind of monsters are we that we stand back behind walls built of hate and ignorance, allowing the mistreatment of the innocent and the destruction of the pure?

I am not so naive as to think this has not been happening since the very advent of humanity. If you believe in evolution, you know that our genus, homo sapiens, wiped out the neanderthals, our greatest competition for resources and survival. If you believe in the Adam and Eve origin story of humanity, then you know that the first two brothers in existence tried to kill each other. There were 5 humans in the world and two of them tried to off one of the others. That’s the reality of basic human nature.

What I do Not understand is the continuance of this behavior in the midst of all that the modern world has to offer our species. We have amazing technology, plenty of food and water and a great disparity between the rich and the poor. It is not that we lack resources, it is that we lack the heart to share them. It is not that we cannot improve the situation of the world at large, it is that it would not benefit those in power to do so.

On a personal, selfish, level, I am sick of the lack of value we all assign each other. I am sick of being taken for granted and abandoned on a whim. I am sick of people who seek to understand me but will not allow me to understand them, will not be honest with me, will not let me see who they really are because they are afraid that I will see them and judge them and find them wanting.

I wish they would understand that I only seek to know them so that I can give them more of my love, my self, my time. I want them to know me more so that I can be myself more easily. I am not just a person with a message for those with depression. I am one of those people with a message for anyone who is seeking to be loved, accepted, and wanted. So often we go through life feeling alone and unloved. We aren’t needed, our selves aren’t required. We are simply tools the world uses to further its agenda and when we are no longer of use, we are discarded like trash.

I am depressed, but I am also so angry. I am sick of being denied over and over for no reason other than fear. I am sick of not being good enough. I am just sick of being a victim of this unruly time where no matter who you are, you are just not enough. You are not even human unless you fit a certain demographic and social circle. You are worthless.

So I ask you, dear reader, is this the kind of world we want to continue in? Is this the kind of world we want the ones we love to continue in? Is this the kind of place we want to leave behind for those who come next?

People say they are helpless and powerless. I ask you this, how many of us want to live in peace and happiness and how many are basking in the blood of battle? Those of us who simply want to lead a good life are in the vast majority. We are targets simply because it’s easy to go after those who want to live abiding by the laws and living by the moral codes instilled in them through family, society and faith.

I would love if each of you would try something with me. Every day, tell one person in your life why they are special. Try not to tell the same person. Just tell people how and why they add value to your existence. I guarantee that you will spread joy around you. Some of it may even make its way back to you.

Let us all be Sick of the world’s situations and our personal tragedies. Bit by bit, through pure ferocious consistency and hard work, let us all work together to change it.

Thank you for reading, and may tomorrow find you happier and more fulfilled than today.

Waking up and coming back to life

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”   –   Albert Einstein

I thought I had overcome all of my traumas, that I had put all the pieces back together and allowed myself to be reborn. I thought I was doing things differently in every way that mattered so as not to repeat the same mistakes. I thought I was no longer repeating the same actions and therefore no longer insane. I was wrong.

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Today

I have had a whirlwind of a last couple of months. Interviews, a new job, getting sued for medical bills I never denied payment for, and a car crash that left my car like so:

The hassle with the insurance companies and finding a new car and needing to pay a difference on the totaled vehicle and paying a citation that followed this horrific and traumatic event in my life was almost enough to make me wish I hadn’t survived. However, the day it happened, I started writing a poem (sort of) and later realized I was just getting frustrated with a system designed to make you give up and decide that life is no longer worth it. If my near death experience taught me anything, it is that there is very little in life that really matters. Everything else is just meaningless fluff.

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Recipe for a Strong Woman

A strong woman, they say
Forged in the fires of pain
Feeling the salt and blood of rivers
Flowing down the cracks in her skin
Through the warmth that keeps
Her living, slowly becoming her veins

Continue reading “Recipe for a Strong Woman”

Ebbs and flows

Depression, for me, is a combination of apathy and self hate. It is a dwelling upon singular instances that become my entire existence. It is an amplification of every negativity I have ever been the perpetrator of or perceived myself as being responsible for. It is the reaching out of the past grabbing me in the present. It is the crushing weight of my perceived failures when, really, they were all simply lessons I had to learn.

Time seems to ebb and flow like waves gently rolling in to a sandy beach on a sunny day. Other days it passes by in a blur, so fast it is gone in a flash. Sometimes, it seems to fold in upon itself as the past reaches out to grab the present, intending to influence the future.

Some people like time is a linear line that goes straight forward from point A to B. They have a set plan for everything they do, not realizing that only works until life throws a curveball and sets you off the predicted trajectory. Some people get stuck on a singular moment in their lives, forgetting to live the moment they are in now. They lose all the opportunities that come to them in their grief, in their shock, in the longing for a reality that no longer exists. Yet others seem to treat time like a joke. Its nuances and expectations hold no interest for them. They live only in the moment, never planning a single thing, never moving forward, never remembering a lesson learned.

Most people experience a little of all these different aspects of time. They plan for the future. They live in the moment from time to time. They grieve over a loss they suffered occasionally. All of those things are normal. It is only when one gets focused on just the one aspect of an incredibly intricate series of events that become a life story that they stop living.

Death becomes an escape from the sheer monotony of one’s apathetic existence. It seems to be the only road left to walk on when the darkness shallows you whole. The demons that live inside rejoice when the inclination to live, to love, to allow that you are worth loving, to grow, to change, to Be ceases to be. They proclaim the only relief to be found is in the arms of death. They assure me that it will be a relief for everyone else in my life too. They will finally be free of suffering me.

I have learned over time that life goes on. Whatever is crushing us in this moment will one day become a bearable memory some day, if only we have the strength to continue. That strength doesn’t come just from oneself. It comes from the friends that are with you through it all. It comes from the family you were lucky enough to either be born to or have built yourself. It comes from faith and hope. 

Time waits for no one. It marches on even when the world is ending and you don’t think you will ever breathe the same again. It goes on even when there is not a shred of light in your life. It keeps going when the most horrendous things happen. Change is not a deterrent for time. It is simply the result of times passing. Time passes by stagnation as easily as it passes by entropy. 

It doesn’t matter what life you live or who you are. There is one truth that gives me strength and I hope it will give hope to anyone else suffering from heartbreak or depression.

Life is change. This too will pass. I promise.