My self-transformation poetry is
meant to shake you up, make you look at your life honestly, make you face
yourself ... and wanna strive to be better. It's also meant to do the same for
ME. I may write like I'm only talking to YOU, but when I pen these poems, the
messages are just as much for me to heed. I have to do my own work every day on
my life, too. This is no holier-than-thou mission I'm on. It's me and all of you, working together to change for
the best.
In December 2010, I was suffering badly, emotionally. It was to the point where I felt I was drowning in my own misery. I hated the feeling, and I wanted an out. I knew a woman (still know her) who was also struggling. She owned a cafe I visited frequently. We would have long talks, and she would often tell me about the deep issues she was dealing with and I would offer encouragement. I decided to get out of myself and go down to her store to check on her to take my mind off my problem. When I arrived and asked how she was, she told me that she wanted to kill herself the night before. Not only that, but she said she saw herself doing it and felt GOOD about it. This stunned me at my core. I was actually speechless. I had heard [of] people saying they wanted to kill themselves, but no one had ever said it to ME, and I had NEVER heard anyone say they saw the action and felt good about it. I was truly shaken on a level I had never been. Fortunately, she moved past that moment and came to work that day, though I apologize that I can't remember what she said made her decide to stay alive. What I do know is this: Her comment disturbed me so deeply that when I left 2 hours later, my soul ached for her and everyone who's ever felt like her. That conversation made me reassess my own life and problems and how I was handling them. I had been in distress, but [that time] I didn't wanna kill myself, and I felt fortunate. But I suddenly realized how important it is for us to put our own suffering aside, come out of our shell, and embrace other people. You never know where they are in THEIR suffering, and hearing their story may change the way you view YOURS.
Later that night, as I was still flooded with angst about her, and about my own issues, I got angry about how we sometimes treat ourselves, the ways we don't protect ourselves, the situations we allow ourselves to be in because we haven't learned to love ourselves enough to steer clear of them. And then "Zookeeper" spilled out of me with fervor. In this poem, I was talking to her, myself, and everyone else out there who has ever carried burdens so heavy that they feel they're gonna break at any moment, but because of their lack of self-esteem, and often the heaviness of whatever mental health issue they may be struggling with, they sometimes can't push themselves to fight for their happiness.
I still revisit this poem regularly, to check in with myself, to make sure I'm fighting. Cuz sometimes ... that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel just doesn't seem to be there. The darkness feels like a ruthless, weighted pillow suffocating my soul. I, too, have experienced that awful feeling of there not being any hope of getting to "the light"—of not even believing that it existed—and consequently, I've felt hopeless to go on. Thank goodness I pushed through those times.
Please listen to the poem, and then please share this post with others who are suffering. This self-work is serious. It's necessary. People need it. And I wanna encourage as many as I can to dive in and swim to the light.
Click link to listen.
In December 2010, I was suffering badly, emotionally. It was to the point where I felt I was drowning in my own misery. I hated the feeling, and I wanted an out. I knew a woman (still know her) who was also struggling. She owned a cafe I visited frequently. We would have long talks, and she would often tell me about the deep issues she was dealing with and I would offer encouragement. I decided to get out of myself and go down to her store to check on her to take my mind off my problem. When I arrived and asked how she was, she told me that she wanted to kill herself the night before. Not only that, but she said she saw herself doing it and felt GOOD about it. This stunned me at my core. I was actually speechless. I had heard [of] people saying they wanted to kill themselves, but no one had ever said it to ME, and I had NEVER heard anyone say they saw the action and felt good about it. I was truly shaken on a level I had never been. Fortunately, she moved past that moment and came to work that day, though I apologize that I can't remember what she said made her decide to stay alive. What I do know is this: Her comment disturbed me so deeply that when I left 2 hours later, my soul ached for her and everyone who's ever felt like her. That conversation made me reassess my own life and problems and how I was handling them. I had been in distress, but [that time] I didn't wanna kill myself, and I felt fortunate. But I suddenly realized how important it is for us to put our own suffering aside, come out of our shell, and embrace other people. You never know where they are in THEIR suffering, and hearing their story may change the way you view YOURS.
Later that night, as I was still flooded with angst about her, and about my own issues, I got angry about how we sometimes treat ourselves, the ways we don't protect ourselves, the situations we allow ourselves to be in because we haven't learned to love ourselves enough to steer clear of them. And then "Zookeeper" spilled out of me with fervor. In this poem, I was talking to her, myself, and everyone else out there who has ever carried burdens so heavy that they feel they're gonna break at any moment, but because of their lack of self-esteem, and often the heaviness of whatever mental health issue they may be struggling with, they sometimes can't push themselves to fight for their happiness.
I still revisit this poem regularly, to check in with myself, to make sure I'm fighting. Cuz sometimes ... that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel just doesn't seem to be there. The darkness feels like a ruthless, weighted pillow suffocating my soul. I, too, have experienced that awful feeling of there not being any hope of getting to "the light"—of not even believing that it existed—and consequently, I've felt hopeless to go on. Thank goodness I pushed through those times.
Please listen to the poem, and then please share this post with others who are suffering. This self-work is serious. It's necessary. People need it. And I wanna encourage as many as I can to dive in and swim to the light.
Click link to listen.
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