I think there is something to this. I think there are lots of functioning depressives out there - people with a lot of shit to deal with and no time or resources (or nerve maybe?) to deal with it. There is much more to this poem - much more. But I must go to bed now. Oh well, at least I have the bones of it.
NPM #15
"Weekend Melt Down"
My Friday evening happy hour
lasts well into Saturday morning,
and when I come to...
I think too much.
Cry.
Hide underneath the covers.
I am not okay.
This is not fine.
But I have to be back to work on Monday.
So I open no wounds that I can't close
in forty-eight hours.
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2 comments:
I really love the last two lines. So true.
thanks! it's a difficult thing, i think, to cram our mental/emotional health and maintenance into the "off time", especially since as our responsibilities increase our off time gets small and smaller.
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