I think I might be a poet. How many poems have I surreptitiously squashed between my musings?
Let’s revisit this poem, this time to explore a new version of myself…
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This Again
Are we back to this again
Am I sorry for being weak
For useless, clumsy words
For walking down your street?
Trying to see the good
Is like trying to stop a leak
I struggle within to choose
Whether help is worth defeat
The world is problematic
These worries aren’t mine alone
So why can’t I imagine
Picking up the phone?
I’m sorry I lost the words
I’m sorry for staying home
Be back when I’m okay
(And I apologize for this poem)
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Who are you?
Identity is an odd concept. Who exists, and how, by whose estimation? Are we made up of only good aspects, or do we embrace those we tend to apologize for?
I’ll always apologize for myself, but this time I won’t lose the words. So, without assigning value, which words authentically represent me?
Robyn – spiritual – poet – hopeful – neurodivergent – sensitive – listener – faith – depression – anxiety – reader – rock music – big sis – aunty – Jordan’s Robyn.
Depression.
This is new, expanding my identity to include depression. We don’t usually talk about it. As a cyclical affliction, depression adds to my experience, my strength. It belongs in my life story.
Depressed. Poet.
Music. Music. Music.
Anxious. Hopeful. Brave.
Robyn the Weird.
(There I am.)
How are you coping?
- Podcasts? (I Am All In, a Gilmore Girls Podcast)
- Read-alongs? (Reading Sea of Monsters to prep for s2 of Percy Jackson)
- Gaming (Started playing Animal Crossing)
- Comedy? (Fresh Off The Boat is a hilarious show)
- Music? (My literal lifeline, dancing to tunes!)
- Other blogs? Wise and Shine, Cynni’s Blog
Voice of Reason 