Wounded King

Swords of the soldiers cut into flesh and bone. Deep wounds, when the arrows fell. The crown made bloody. A coward cries. An army yields to the enemy.

Dark ages, when a King becomes a peasant. Humbled by his injuries, anger grows and spite is unleashed from his tongue. He is not who he thought.

A scar develops where Love once lived. Empathy knows no bounds, and yet it hides at the thought of death. A growl will replace laughter when danger looms.

Further and further the King wanders through pitch black darkness. He sees no light but somehow he is never blind. A voice calls to him and he moves ever closer to the sound.

He stumbles over something hard, impenetrable. Reaching down, he brushes off the black stone. Green light explodes from the jewel that lays under layers of soot. The King weeps.

His pockets now lined with riches, the King carries on. Though hobbled and weak, he smiles, once, twice, and no more. For the green stone asks him to disrobe and walk through the frost. He obeys but he spits on the stone.

Years and years. An eon to the mind. The king carries the small burdens of treasure that appear on his path. It is heavy and he curses out at the gods. They do not answer. His guts spill out from the wounds that have not healed since the war.

Though his kingdom has fallen, his Queen and his Captains remain. They carry him when he falls unconscious. They see something perhaps he does not.

A white hot sword of truth manifests in front of him. He is cut in half, the flaming blade searing his insides shut. Two Kings now form, The Judge and The Evil One. His eyes now see that they were always a part of him, intertwined in a disgusting heap with a golden veneer.

The Gods finally act. The king is blessed with vision that can see beyond horizons he once conquered. A stone is engraved with commandments and placed in his heart.

Love slowly creeps into his veins, it has not left him. It was only in hiding, biding time. It is fragile still, and does not have the strength yet to take him over. The King Smiles again.

The Evil One will contend with The Judge, and indeed it will even triumph on occasion. But the Judge is the true King.

Responsibility falls on the King, he must rebuild what has been taken from him and what he has tossed away in ignorance.

Standing on stilted legs, the King announces his Kingdom to come. His Queen raises her hands to pray, a sign of faith. His Captains give their salute and begin forming the Golden Army.

The Wounded King fills his chest as he looks out to world. He knows now that he may fall endlessly again. He is exalted beyond his former self. Fractured still, he raises his voice to the clouds and exclaims,

“I was, I am, I will!”

Smile

Little pieces, so minuscule and fragile

I picked them up and put them in a pile

I talked to god and asked him to stay for awhile

Because I’m building the frame to hold my smile

Listen

The thrumming

The beat; awakens

*

Soul and mind

Grim past is

*

Forgotten swiftly

As I am lost

*

In serenity of

Instruments

*

Was I ever

Here before?

*

I remember a

Time back then

*

When I would

Sing of the hearts

*

Calling and live

To the tune

*

Of moments

Rushing by

Boys to Men

What’s up hair, I see you fuckin around

What’s up weak chin, I feel you not being manly

Hey there small muscles, lift any feathers lately?

Receding hairline, lookin fine like vulture today!

Confidence, where you goin man? Hey come back!

Did you get those clothes from an idiot? I think you got those clothes from an idiot.

Momma said you look so handsome son, where’d you get the looks from?

Gramma sais you look like a man now.

Baby-faced, lookin’ like I try too hard.

Where’s my style now, where did it go?

Just last week I could have sworn I knew what it was.

I can’t eat, I can’t eat!

Force it down son!

Spend that money, hope that it changes something.

It’s just today, though. Give me a couple weeks, a few more pounds, I’ll be okay.

Work can begin now, lift those weights!

Soon enough, none of it will hurt anymore, I will outgrow this.

 

Sugar Sugar

It’s the ultimate feeling. Got me lifted feeling so gifted.

I got an outlook on life that is strong and holds true. I can’t grasp it, I can’t explain it, it’s just a feeling I have in my chest and in my belly.

Today I will ignore the fears. I can cry today.

I’m moving forwards and I won’t stop now, not after the mountains I’ve moved.

With that fire I can ignite my own dreams, I can discard the ideas with frayed edges and just focus on what is solid.

I swap my regrets at the door for my caramel cowboy boots, put on the white satin jacket with the golden zipper.

Drifting higher then the ceiling, sugar got me feeling so fly.

The twang of that guitar really gets me going now.

I’m Free for now, so that’s alright

Learning, Growing, Persisting

After a weird couple of weeks I thought it might be a good idea to dissect what’s going on and figure it all out. The thing is, I’m feeling better, a lot better then I have for a very long time. I’m on a higher dose of medication now, and it seems to be doing it’s job. That going in hand with the work I do on myself personally, things are slowly getting better.

And I’m starting to rush myself again. I’m starting to spread myself too thin again. I think it’s important for me to take a step back, enjoy the improvements, and do what I can to keep moving forwards.

The last couple of weeks I hit a roadblock. Things were great, I had new opportunities arising, I was hopeful. Then, just out of nowhere, a wave of depression pistol whipped me into submission. I suddenly lost all my motivation, I was tired all day, and generally pissed off about everything. I think it was a couple things that sent me into this depression.

First, the biggest contributor I think was getting a couple bad batches of weed. I’m learning for the thousandth time that I just can’t smoke weed with this illness. While it can do wonders, make me feel relaxed, at peace with myself and generally feel feelings again, it’s just too inconsistent. Some batches make me paranoid, demotivated, grumpy, and numb. It’s hard because it’s really the best and worst reactions I could have to it.

I had some weed butter a couple weeks ago and it made me super paranoid one night. And just generally made me very angry and impatient until it ran out. Then another batch of weed last week that made me crazy tired and unmotivated. I slept for days.

The only way I’m ever going to have consistency in my mood is if I quit smoking pot. Which means it will still be at least a few months before I should really be job hunting.

Secondly, I think that I’m pushing myself a little too hard. I’m feeling better then I was, but I’m still not 100%. And I know I’ll never be 100%, but I have to accept that I can only do what I can do. I thought this increase in mood would be enough to start looking for a job. When I really look at myself I don’t think I’m quite ready yet though. I get so caught up in what other people think and expect of me, that I sometimes forget what my needs and tolerances are.

I’m still not cleaning the house as much as I should, still not exercising or eating right, and I’m still in some negative thinking patterns. I think those things need to be fixed before I even think of getting a job. How can I work if I can’t even take care of my basic necessities?

I will just have to be careful in how I navigate this time for healing. I feel a lot of relief in just deciding to wait a couple more months before I get a job. And while that feels good, I can’t let it keep sliding either. It’s a careful balance of not pushing myself too hard, while also not letting myself stagnate.

I finally got setup with the mental health system a few months ago. I just started seeing a guy from a transitional living program. Basically he’s there to help me learn how to function again. I get him for 2 hours twice a week, which I was amazed by. I have hopes that this program will help me take the next steps.

 

 

Pets and Depression

That’s my boy Goose, wearing his favorite blue toque. He wore it for about 20 minutes before it fell off. Me and my girlfriend were laughing so hard when this happened, he was just so relaxed and careless.

Goose came into my life a couple years ago, brought over when my brother moved back home. My brother was living in a place that didn’t allow pets, so he sneakily dropped him off at my parents house one summer.

He is nearing 3 years old and is an awesome, carefree little dude. He’s brought so much joy into my life.

Goose has been there for me at times when I felt my most lonely. His happy attitude, and his quirky antics light up my smile. He comes when I call him, and you can hold him and pet him however you want and he just melts.

I have 3 other kitty residents, older guys we’ve had since I was a little kid. We named them after the 3 stooges, Larry, Moe and Curly Jo. These guys are all super lovable, although getting a little cranky in their old age.

Having pets has made a huge impact on me. There are times when you don’t want to be around people, but being alone just doesn’t feel right. It’s nice to have something to love, to show compassion for. I think practising love is an important part of managing depression.

My cats are one of very few things that can distract me from how I’m feeling. They also give me a reason to get out of bed so that I can feed them.

My pets have a healing effect on me, just having them around can brighten up my day. I don’t know where I’d be without my cat-pack.