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Nov 11

Getting Back Up From An Emotional Down

Getting Back Up From An Emotional Down

This book discusses my cesspool and dam philosophy which was developed during my nightmarish experience with panic and agoraphobia. Each chapter begins with a poem I wrote during that trying time.

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The following was written many years ago and published in Getting Back Up From an Emotional Down. Although not exactly classic poetry, it is a useful summary for those striving to understand and overcome emotional symptoms and problems. If you have poems or other writing you’ve done related to emotional issues feel free to send it to us. If appropriate we will put it on our site to be shared with others.

——————-

I.

I wish the window to my being,

Was crystal clear and meant for seeing.

Instead it’s clouded by layers of dust,

Caked up by dirt, darkened by rust.

I rub and rub till it feels numb.

Yet the little I see makes me feel so dumb.

With all I’ve learned and studied and read,

Why is it so dark inside my own head?

There are no answers that I can see,

Only riddles that play tricks on me.

What I feel and what I say,

Seem to move in a conflicting way.

On the surface all seems fine,

Yet the garbage is hidden by a very thin line,

And when it all comes bursting through,

I don’t seem to know what’s true.

Fact and fiction merge as one,

My head feels like it weighs a ton.

My hazy window gets dark as night,

I can’t see in, try as I might.

II

As I lay quietly in my soft bed,

Pondering the mysteries of my thick head.

I get lost in the mire of days gone by,

And all that’s transpired since my first cry.

Why do I think and feel as I do?

Will I ever know what’s really true?

Why do I fear what others think and say?

Who really directs my life – me or they?

Why do I strive to reach the top,

Yet all too often settle for slop?

From where does all that’s me really come?

Why does it hide in a tightly sealed drum?

Who am I and what makes me, me?

Are there any answers plain enough to see?

As I rack my brain in search of the truth,

I must conclude it all seems from my youth.

III.

I hurt all over from a pain you cannot know,

That covers all my insides in a way that doesn’t show.

It puts me in a state filled with total misery,

Yet its origins are hidden – there seems no

reason for it to be.

I have everything to live for,

But I really want to die.

For a moment I even wonder,

About a supreme in the sky.

Too bad it’s not that simple.

Though I really wish it so.

‘Cause the pains from which I suffer,

Make a tough row to hoe.

It’s like a frenzied dream,

That haunts me day to night.

It floods my mind with panic,

And uncontrollable fright.

No matter how hard I turn my rudders,

Toward the shores of feeling well.

My course remains unaltered,

In the polluted waters of Hell.

 

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