A blog focusing on the trials of mental illness, recovery and the arts.

Monday, December 28, 2015

A down comforter

A down comforter. Three of my favorite pillows.
This has been my surroundings for the month of December.
I spent more or less the entire month in bed. The bathroom a short jump away. I made trips to the kitchen for drinks and snacks, but mostly, I laid here.

I do not feel depressed. My mood is fine. I can laugh and joke. I just do it in bed. Some days I am pretty irritable, but not depressed.
I am thinking part of the problem is having no where else to go. I need more activities to take up my day. Yet, I have no desire to seek these things out. I am content. But also afraid. I know things arent right if I am in bed all day and sleeping until 4.
My goal for January is to see less of my bed even though I love it so.

I feel anger and disappointment to those around me who have not stepped in and asked the questions I feel like should be asked of someone who doesnt leave their bed. I feel as if Ive been forgotten.


Wild Geese   Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

No comments:

Post a Comment