my poetry of depression

As a long time sufferer of Anxiety and Depression

I started writing poetry as a release, a way to express my own

feelings. Some may find this poetry sad or depressing, but to

those who may suffer from these same disorders, I hope you

will find a sense of common ground, and know that you are

not alone.

National Institute of Mental Health:
18.8 million American adults suffer from clinical depression. That is 9.5% of the adult population

2003 National Comorbidity Study, sponsored by the National Institutes of Health:
- 35 million Americans (more than 16% of the population) suffer from depression severe enough to warrant treatment at some time in their lives.
- In one given period, 13 to 14 million people experience the illness.

19.1 million Americans 18 to 54 years-old suffer from anxiety disorders. This represents 13.3% of this age group. (source: National Institute of Mental Health)

Many of the people who suffer from depression also suffer from anxiety (and vice versa).

My life has been like a lethal weapon,

beginning at the moment of my conception.

Always ready and prepared to resolve

every emotion and feeling of which I am involved.

At any moment I must react to the situation,

to what has been dealt me to meet resolution.

All my life, like anyone else, I have had to choose,

which reaction was best to use?

In every situation I have made a decision,

never hurting anyone else only myself-the reason.

The trigger is always the last resort,

but I have used it in the past solving internal discord.

My brain says I am wrong and guilty using this way,

but this does calm the pain, the hurt and the anger momentarily.

I must remain prepared every minute of my life at the point I boil

searching for alternatives protecting myself from life's internal turmoil.

So at this moment I will try to be bigger,

writing down my feelings - looking at them - not pulling a trigger.

REALITY OF IT ALL

Sitting here wondering why and how,

Did I ever make it in life this far?

This month’s best includes a long list,

Just for starters our home’s foreclosure exists.

The van is due for repossession,

The electric in a disconnect situation.

The phone has already been turned off cuz no money to pay,

The fridge, and freezer returning to the rental company any day.

This really isn’t a problem as no money for food to fill,

The cupboards are also bare….no overkill

Now why would I get down and consider nothing less,

But curling up and taking a LONG LONG rest.

Sorry I have robbed Peter to pay Paul,

But now Paul is calling and no answer at all.

I still exist in spite of all this and when it is easier,

Just not so sure I can withstand this forever

The comforts of life I guess are not due me,

Cuz the wallet and pockets are also empty.

Shattered Dreams

Sitting here looking back through my life,

So many things dreamed of yet just a mom and wife.

Dreams of being something not a no one,

Making plans for a future, touching many not just some.

Visions of success measured not by money,

but a caring, dedicated, giving person to many.

I sit here and glance through more than 50 years,

happy times, sad times full of laughter and tears.

Someday maybe I will truly find,

the answers to my dreams I called mine.

Sure looks different from where I sit now,

the visions of a dreamer changed some how.

Dreams and goals of younger years gone,

a failure to myself yet I go on.

Written by kst

1-6-03

SOMEBODY

As a child I dreamed of being,

Somebody, somebody special not just a thing.

Making a difference to just one since the years from my birth,

To just one other person before I left this earth.

At this point I sit and ponder what I must do,

In the short time I have left seeing my dream come true.

As the clock of my life ticks away,

I search and search within not much time…no delay.

So for today I must try and see were I have failed at all cost,

Because I am nothing….not somebody…invisible to most.

Maybe I haven’t done all I could to be,

A difference made, success, that means so much to me.

Maybe I have asked for too much,

A life worth the living, a human touch.

I exist; I am just another nothing on this earth,

Unanswered dreams searched for while plodding along this turf.

So I will never be something…no matter how small,

A success in life, I have failed the call.

As I approach year number fifty four,

The test of life…..so low…not a measurable score.

So from this nobody hidden within,

Wishing I could find a somebody and realize I win.

So I will end this with just wondering where, when and why,

Never finding the answers I have searched for under the sky.

Written by kst

2-26-03

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All poetry above written by KST