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| Post 334902 posted on 7-5-2008 at 12:27
Based on one of my patients descriptions of how it feels to be depressed.
My heart is full of shadows
and my mind has ceased to work.
I’m at the bottom of the well
of self-pity, and see no glimmer,
no suggestion, no way out.
So deep, no-one can hear me call.
So dark, I forget my fear of death.
So far away, horizon blurs into sky,
and silence so profound strangles
all my dreams before their birth.
Acid drops of bitterness erode
and scar my soul, etching false
memories, calcifying hope.
Touch me, I am brittle. Only
the crumbliest, flakiest, corner
of the imagination is free to choose.
Stay in the well - or build a ladder
(C) Nimuae 2008
Location: Riverton, South Australia
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Gone crazy, Back soo
| Post 334921 posted on 7-5-2008 at 14:22
The poem is accurate, Nimuae, except the last line. if you suffer from depression, you can't think clearly enough to build a ladder. I suffer from
depression owing to a head injury. When not on my anti-depressants, I think that I'm fine, but others see a different me. One day, early in my rehab,
I was trying (under supervision) different meds to sort me out and I woke one morning and said "I'm back". At that time, I realised that I'd been
in that dark well, and that the meds would be my life from then on.
Just out of curiosity, and you don't have to answer if you choose not to, what is your area of expertise? Are you an M.D., Psych, or other?
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| Post 334924 posted on 7-5-2008 at 14:30
I'm sorry that's the case for you Leigh, but it's not true for everyone, I am one of the fortunate ones who has been deeply depressed and come out
I'd like to add a poem of my own written during my bad times:
The walls provide a barrier between two worlds –
One of howling elements: bitter wind and harsh rain;
The other of calm serenity and warmth.
In this world, there is light and joy,
Safety and security reign.
My small room has a climate of its own,
Sharply contrasting with the outside scene.
Lightening shows the gaunt features of this world of pain
And thunder echoes throughout the storm.
Time is rendered irrelevant: this rain will never cease.
And so, after an eternity of thought, my mind is made up.
I move towards the door, reluctant to take the plunge
It opens unwillingly, buffeted by the wind.
I survey the two scenes before me,
As the sound of rain fills my room.
Involuntary shivers run through me,
And I linger for a while on the threshold,
Fearful of the unfamiliar world outside.
And then step out into the sunshine,
Shutting the door on the storm within.
(c) SC 1993