Hole in the Ground

My bed is sharp-fitted into a corner
And I can trace the angle with my eyes
Around the skirting,
Following the trails of black on white dust
That never seem to lift,
The hairs jumping in the fan breeze
And the invisible poisons crawling creaking floorboards,
Always towards that corner.

This is not a good state of affairs,
Sleeping on a hardwood floor
So nothing can live under the bed,
So I can curl it up and shake it out each morning
Until it’s clean as a burnt hair.
But I can’t sleep,
Because of the mirrored walls,
Four sides all the same, reflecting to the corner,
The pictures of the steel-trap world outside
The unbeatable dust shuddering like monuments.

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Tessellate

bodiespressed

inarray

non-tessellating

wait

assortedshapes

they

oddangle in

seamand teeth

allcrooked

offaces

thepennies drop

fromripped pocket lining

infractured polygons

they

allon wires

tothe waist

staggerwith IV

objectpermanence

whitewire to VIII

tormentingor separate

allsunken

incurrent

they

scrapingcolour

fromgrey film

thecity lays

overeverything

cannothear the stenotype

silentchord

takingdictation

forevery glance

Editing poetry: Clean

notes etc. in the original post…

It is so easy to fix things,
Tilex, Mr. Clean, sponge, toothbrush,
Knees and wrinkled fingers, red eyes and a hard hand.

Laughing and scrubbing as the stainless steel screams,
Slowly turning, silver and perfect, trapped in your place,
Wanting nothing. [(one breath)]

Everything spotless, the anger drains down the plughole,
Wipes away with the streaks on the mirror,
The dust, the terror of hairs,
Spray and wash,
Damned spot.

If only it were that easy to fix things,
With hands, dirt, voices, weeping,
Cheeks and wrinkled fingers, red eyes and a hard heart.

via Editing poetry: Clean.

Chocolate cookies make me high

When I’m depressed I like to eat sugar, but in the interests of not being a fatty fat fat fat, I’ve decided that I’m only going to eat treats I bake myself. One of my favourite recipes is for vegan double chocolate cookies. I’ve made them lots of times, and I have my own version now. What I didn’t remember is that as well as sugar, these cookies contain a decent amount of cocoa, and vegan chocolate chips (which are also mostly cocoa).

Cocoa contains caffeine. I have a low tolerance to caffeine. When I say low tolerance, let me give you several examples. Once at work, I drank two red bulls in a single day as I hadn’t had any sleep. I got so wired that they sent me home. I don’t ever drink coffee, but there have been multiple times when I’ve drunk black tea and run around the office squealing and giggling to myself, and talking a lot of random nonsense. A cup of green tea will make me jiggly and excitable, as well as a bit anxious. Apparently I had forgotten this. After three cookies (spread out over the course of the day), I am now jittery and frazzly and anxious. Damn you cookies!

 

My diagnosis

I’ve suffered from depression since I was around 12 or 13, but I’ve always felt that that was more of a symptom rather than a cause. Since I’ve been in the mental health system (last 6 or 7 years) I’ve developed a sort of diagnosis obsession. Well not an obsession exactly, but I really think it would help me to have a diagnosis. A few months ago I got a diagnosis, then I saw a specialist who promptly overturned it. Here are a few things I’ve been diagnosed then undiagnosed with over the years

Melancholic depression

Borderline Personality Disorder (this was the most recent one)

Treatment Resistant depression

Type II bipolar disorder

Social phobia

Nobody’s ever been able to agree on any diagnosis except the infamous NOS. This means ‘not otherwise specified’. So my diagnosis now is a sort of collection of symptoms from various things, none of which really help me too much. Major depressive disorder with personality disorder NOS, obsessive-compulsive tendencies NOS with a side of social anxiety, on whole wheat bread with no hot peppers please.

I do enjoy being an individual, but sometimes it would be nice to fit into a category.