Posts Tagged: depression

Freedom from Me

This poem is inspired by Sharon Hodde Miller’s book, Free of Me, this sermon by Rev. David Stephenson from Mclean Presbyterian Church, and my most recent life transition of moving from Arlington to Amissville. – Replace my self centeredness with an awareness

Freedom from Me

This poem is inspired by Sharon Hodde Miller’s book, Free of Me, this sermon by Rev. David Stephenson from Mclean Presbyterian Church, and my most recent life transition of moving from Arlington to Amissville. – Replace my self centeredness with an awareness

The Things You Carried

Inspired by John 19.28-37 – When you go to the cross, will you take my shame? I’m living in leftover layers from my past, consumed by oceans of regret, caught up with what I should and should not have said

The Things You Carried

Inspired by John 19.28-37 – When you go to the cross, will you take my shame? I’m living in leftover layers from my past, consumed by oceans of regret, caught up with what I should and should not have said

To Be Yours

It’s a desire to be in more than one place at a time not a fear of missing out, but a fear of time The quickness of it, and the thought of am I doing enough? being enough, loving well

To Be Yours

It’s a desire to be in more than one place at a time not a fear of missing out, but a fear of time The quickness of it, and the thought of am I doing enough? being enough, loving well

Wading

Listen to this while reading My words are like honey, they stick to my teeth, to my fingertips They sink to the bottom of a glass, get gulped up in the quickness of drinking the speed of everything I don’t

Wading

Listen to this while reading My words are like honey, they stick to my teeth, to my fingertips They sink to the bottom of a glass, get gulped up in the quickness of drinking the speed of everything I don’t

When the clouds roll

There are large black crows outside of my window every morning and every evening, I catch a glimpse of them swooping past out of the corner of my eye It is strange outside, humid and muggy the clouds roll over

When the clouds roll

There are large black crows outside of my window every morning and every evening, I catch a glimpse of them swooping past out of the corner of my eye It is strange outside, humid and muggy the clouds roll over

The state of being subject

It’s rather interesting, the way that the days go from high to low to nothing really at all And the weather changes, and all of us people talk about it like the temperature owes us some kind of consistency and

The state of being subject

It’s rather interesting, the way that the days go from high to low to nothing really at all And the weather changes, and all of us people talk about it like the temperature owes us some kind of consistency and

something beautiful, something good

It’s moments before my twenty first birthday, the humid august air runs through the open body of my black 2002 cabrio convertible and I listen to the CD player spinning sounds of heartbreaking hymns I recently came into possession of

something beautiful, something good

It’s moments before my twenty first birthday, the humid august air runs through the open body of my black 2002 cabrio convertible and I listen to the CD player spinning sounds of heartbreaking hymns I recently came into possession of

patient stanzas

I’m thinking it shouldn’t be this easy, that you or I should say something wrong that the morning should turn to afternoon, and with the evening conflict will come I’m feeling it shouldn’t be enough, but I’m left wanting more

patient stanzas

I’m thinking it shouldn’t be this easy, that you or I should say something wrong that the morning should turn to afternoon, and with the evening conflict will come I’m feeling it shouldn’t be enough, but I’m left wanting more

sad stanzas

I was happy, and I just got sad again
hit me like a thunderstorm
Surprised by round, wet, rain drops
puddles rising up and flooding my feet

I’m slipping, or fearful of it
When I feel Joy I end up just waiting
for it to leave
It’s been a few weeks now, a long
month or so, and I’ve have this unshakable contentedness
but when will it loosen its grip?

sad stanzas

I was happy, and I just got sad again
hit me like a thunderstorm
Surprised by round, wet, rain drops
puddles rising up and flooding my feet

I’m slipping, or fearful of it
When I feel Joy I end up just waiting
for it to leave
It’s been a few weeks now, a long
month or so, and I’ve have this unshakable contentedness
but when will it loosen its grip?

the practicality of living during sadness, in the mundane

On the days that you can, Do Not Lose Yourself In The Mundane On the days that you can’t, still wake up, fix your bed make yourself breakfast, toast and eggs open the windows even if it’s hot, especially when

the practicality of living during sadness, in the mundane

On the days that you can, Do Not Lose Yourself In The Mundane On the days that you can’t, still wake up, fix your bed make yourself breakfast, toast and eggs open the windows even if it’s hot, especially when

Look Back

never thought it was a good idea to Look Back I’ve always known not to do it, I learned this when I was twelve and the outside was getting soaked and I knew it then that this place was not

Look Back

never thought it was a good idea to Look Back I’ve always known not to do it, I learned this when I was twelve and the outside was getting soaked and I knew it then that this place was not