Hi, everyone. So, this is the newwwww styyyle. And look – a poll! (btw- that picture in the header is from the b&b hubby and I stayed at earlier this fall.)
Archive for October, 2008
…for replies to poetry submissions feels like a time-bomb, lately.
you shall see pieces of me strewn across the floor, shortly.
by Lucie Brock-Broido
All about Carrowmore the lambs
Were blotched blue, belonging.
They were waiting for carnage or
Snuff. This is why they are born
To begin with, to end.
Ruminants do not frighten
At anything–gorge in the soil, butcher
Noise, the mere graze of predators.
All about Carrowmore
The rain quells for three days.
I remember how cold I was, the botched
Job of traveling. And just so.
Wherever I went I came with me.
She buried her bone barrette
In the ground’s woolly shaft.
A tear of her hair, an old gift
To the burnt other who went
First. My thick braid, my ornament–
My belonging I
Remember how cold I will be.
god, PTSD is a bitch. These past few days have created a bit of an emotional downward spiral for me which I’m certain is due to–
1.) My husband leaving tonight to visit his mother in VA and returning Sunday night. Now, for a normal person, an event like this is a simple blip in their routine. For me, and for a lot of people with PTSD, having your comfort zone interrupted and your safe person leave for a few days can totally throw a person into a constant state of anxiety & panic, and bring on a bout of depression.
2.) I have PMS. Nothing like raging hormones to throw off the release of chemicals in my brain- a system that is already deficient in this area.
3.) I’m manically working on creative projects.
Depression and anxiety/panic feed themselves. It goes something like this: The clouds start rolling in, you can see the clouds and you notice that the air is getting thicker. You start worrying about working umbrellas and whether there are any holes in your roof. Before you know it, the storm is overhead and now you’re frantic about your kid’s raincoat and if the tires on your car still have thread. The situation has become overwhelming so you decide to huddle down in a closet for a few days until the storm passes. But you feel guilty about it because you’ve neglected the roof, umbrellas, tires, and your kid. Nothing loves depression like a good case of guilt.
In other news: nothing. I’m going to take a xanax and pray to a god I don’t believe in.
Edit to add: because it’s just so fucking perfect.