There’s voices in my head
So many I lost track
Screaming, rambling, mocking me
I want my own mind back
Stealing all my focus
They leave me lost in doubt
If only I could shut them up
Or somehow drown them out
The turmoil overwhelms
Like storms that thrash about
Crashing, tossing ships aground
They leave me full of doubt
Through silent thoughts they roar
Of deep and dark despair
Longing to silence them grows
I need some peace in there
Please let me hear His voice
Through heart, THEN mind, he speaks
Yet hard to feel above the noise
Unheard mid endless shrieks
Oh thoughts Just let me be!
I cannot bear it long
Please shut up I beg of thee!
And pester me no more
Grant me strength, pray for me
Stop the pain, set me free
Before I walk forbidden paths
Of deeds dark and dreary
© Alan Zaugg 2020
In January, I wrote the first iteration – These Voices in My Head. I hadn’t realized or remembered it until today. Rather than replace, I prefer to name this a “reprisal.” Reading the first, reminded me of my state of mind. I’m fragile. I’m constantly a prisoner of my own mind. That’s what this is. What depression is. A cycle. It isn’t circumstance. It isn’t situational. It’s a state of mind, no, a disease. An illness. Am I okay? No. Yes. What is okay?
Many people ask me how they can help. What can they do? Love me. Shine a light in the darkness. Reach out. Don’t ask me to reach out. Don’t ask anyone with depression to reach out. It won’t happen, and not because we don’t want to. Because we can’t. We are not able. We tell ourselves not to burden others, not to whine or complain, while at the same time wanting someone to save us.
Reach out. Hug someone. Love them. Hold them. Tell them it’s okay to be vulnerable and to trust that others truly care, that everything will be okay.
Writing these thoughts, poems, or stories of darkness are sometimes cathartic, a form of personal therapy. I forgot January, because I wrote it out and moved on. It isn’t always that simple, but it can and does help.
I’ll be okay. Today isn’t tomorrow or yesterday. It IS right now. A moment to live and survive. To abide the storm and rise again tomorrow.
Thank you all for reading and supporting me!
You can find special short stories I write for patrons only over on my Patreon: https://patreon.com/AlanZaugg
Additional stories and poetry can be found on Salt City Genre Writers Medium page: https://medium.com/salt-city-genre-writers