mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
does the universe even care?
summer love that has to end
saying goodbye in September
broken hearts and stolen dreams
lovers mourn in muted screams
wishing they would not remember
autumn in its amber shades
masking truths too hard to bear
does the universe even care?
school becomes a new distraction
mothers scrimping for more pennies
children’s shoes will not endure
humbled with their meagre meal
peanut butter spread too thin
mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
does the universe even care?
October ends in farce and fury
poverty clothed in Halloween
witches taunting mockingly
nary a princess or a queen
dreading winter, parents worry
mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
does the universe even care?
December heaves a downy blanket
void of presents and empty cupboards
January weighs a thousand woes
hungry bellies and frozen toes
housing they cannot afford
mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
does the universe even care?
social services cannot keep up
greedy leaders just turn away
their pockets lined with children's dreams
parents working night and day
politics drowning all their screams
mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
does the universe even care?
blindly seeking for a break
depression hovers constantly
winter nearing to an end
melancholy lurking silently
hiding spring’s utopia
mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
does the universe even care?
bound in darkness and despair
breaking through with fiery rage
some may find an ounce to share
fill them with ample courage
reaching out to one who cares
mid-season blues
like summer draughts that bring despair
someone out there really cares!
© Cheryl-Lynn ‘19-01-23
http://www.crisisservicescanada.ca/en/ Adults 1-833-456-4566
For residents in Quebec 1-866-APPELLE (1-866-277-3553)
Kids Help Phone – Jeunesse Jécoute - Youths and young adult
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Tag Archives: depression
snow, another four-letter word (Daily Moments January 23. 2019 Haibun )
It is amazing how much literature there is on the lack of sunlight and darkness affects moods and yet there does not seem to be as much on seeing ONLY WHITE F&$&ing snow. The skies are grey today and yet the brightness of the snow still makes her eyes squint and adds to the jackhammer in her head. It is said that January 21st is the most depressing day of the year. How interesting that it may be the most depressing but that does not mean that the following day it has disappeared. No siree, it lags on and on and on and lurks into February and depression infecting each day forward.
Today, she squints as she looks out the window, debating if she should go out to do some errands which would entail, getting dressed (winterizing with coat, boots, scarf, ski mask, snow pants, gloves or mitts and cleats) to the bus stop, waiting in the wind, avoiding cars splashing the slush on sidewalks and repeating the same thing on her return. It is like shampooing one’s hair: shampoo, rinse, repeat.
Fortunately, today it is a balmy –5C so she can lose the snow pants, ski mask and mitts. What a joy! It is snowing today and she stands at the corner feeling her cheeks blush with each kiss.
“Crunch, Crunch” her boots moan as she approaches destination. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, she feels a shift in her mood and knows that this brief but effective exercise has fired neurotransmitters that are lifting her spirits. She sighs thinking of those who suffer so much especially this time of year and the risks that may entail…
mid-season blues
like summer draughts bring despair
in the dead of winter
blindly seeking respite
from the wrath of depression
treading warily
on grief’s temptation
veering such demise
bundling up with courage
some may make that phone call
hearing in that voice
caring and supportive
may give life a chance
© Tournesol ‘19-01-23
charm of depression (haibun)
©Clr’16
©Clr’16
© Clr’16
©Clr’15
(c) Cl Roberts,16
©Cheryl-Lynn’16
©Clr’16
Depression can mean many things. We tend to overuse that word meaning, sad, moody, down in the dumps and wiped from work or school; all these last moments to days or weeks but depression is not quite the same thing.
I remember seeing the face of depression when I was a teen for the first time. I observed the grey tint to her face, the emptiness in her hazel eyes and that consistent pout. Of course, what did I know at thirteen? I thought there was a cause and that was the effect. One person causing a broken heart, which in turn turned those hazel eyes into depression.
And yet, I know now that it is far more complex than that. Yes, a broken heart is grieving a love that one had. I like to call all grief a “necessary depression”. And that sadness can conjure up old wounds and offer an opportunity to reflect and perhaps heal some of them.
Depression does not have to be the result of a particular cause. It can surface for no reason at all outside of the person. “A chemical imbalance,” a doctor may explain. I remember getting calls from youths shocked that they could possibly be suffering from depression when they were in a loving family, they had good friends at school and they were doing will academically. But this does happen. Sometimes there is a genetic component that may increase the risks of depression.
I also recall working in home-care and seeing some of my colleagues (nurses or personal support workers) who were suffering from “burnout”. I had not realized how that can creep into your life like a snake…very slowly.
That may be why I never saw it coming for myself. Working at two part-time jobs, taking two courses per semester at university, member of school committees at my children`s school, along with other volunteer positions. I learned what it meant to “burn the candle at both ends”.
Depression allowed me…no forced me…to take the time to reflect on my life. It was like I was driving on the expressway and never taking the time to stop and visit the towns along that highway. Depression forces you to take the scenic route, although you may not see it as charming at first. Truths are never too pretty to face sometimes but the weight alleviated makes your perception on life so much prettier.
depression
depleting life’s fragrance
fetid black hole
semantics adorn truth
eau de mélancolie
&&&
rising to darkness
blinded
glare of the sun
struggling to decipher
imitation from realness
&&&
dawn to dusk
one long steady sweep
of grayness
children playing in a park
specs of colour start bouncing
&&&
depression
my sunshine poking me
never giving up
finding my lost treasure
my self-worth
©Tournesol’16
Written for Chèvrefeuille’s Carpe Diem Haiku Kai
This started off as a series of tanka and I decided to personalize it more and shall share it to my other blog StigmaHurtsEveryone
habits of the times (solo no renga)
echoes linger
mocking in the shadows
mid barren trees
tendencies of souls at risk
symbolic of this season
hopelessness
leaving far too many
unhinged
©Tournesol’16
Three Word Wednesday: symbolic tendency unhinged
Daily Moments October 21, 2016 habits of the times Solo No Renga
sitting in darkness (haibun)
Depression can be a passage in time life offers one to take stalk of one’s life; other times it can be more complex…meeting up with past traumas, a chemical imbalance and the brain needs a boost of “vitamins”, a professional who accompanies one through the darkness so they don’t stumble in those twists and turns in that labyrinth of a tunnel…perhaps it is a moment to grieve which I often call a “necessary depression” to take the time one needs to mourn a loss…to recognize and embrace that moment even when it hurts. I remember telling a youth embracing suffering sounds so absurd but picture embracing a cactus! and once you have felt the pain, with a supportive listener helping you detach from the needles of that plant, a lightness is felt and finally one may find enlightenment.
(Troiku)
waiting in darkness
waiting for the light
nothing seems to…
View original post 37 more words
praying for hope (haiku)
The Stigma of her despair
Stigma deprives so many suffering youths and adults from getting proper treatment. There is treatment and there IS recovery.
deadlygothicdesigns.webs.com
The stigma of her despair
She struggled every day at school
dragging her feet there anyway
life at home was not so cool
she rarely talked to anyone
at school they called her emo
she always dressed the same
black shirt, black jeans without a logo
a long black trench coat too
all clothes she got at Sally Ann
she died her hair jet black
painted her nails and lips
black with hints of maroon red
to match colour of blood,
it looked like her uniform
a suit of raw despair
because no one did care.
she tried to ask for help
saying she felt so sad
whenever she couldn’t stand
the pain, she chose to hurt herself
then students saw her marks
and bullied her some more
the teacher called her parents
so she could seek some help
but they screamed with such fury
for shaming the family.
And…
View original post 124 more words
Holy C Melan
Her nickname is Melan,
she is of sly, slithering species
tantalizing in her distinct bouquet
mesmerizing in her discrete array
of victims of her choosing
dripping bliss as she`s oozing
her prisoners of despair
suffer anguish in her care.
Hallowed in her divine
prowess she will define
the true painful meaning
finds her prey ever demeaning
suffering the wrought of her ability
winning casualties of her torment
sinking teeth of Ms. Melan C. Holy
whilst innocent souls lament.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/05 All Rights Reserved
Too often the powers of depression or long dreaded visits of melancholy can bring a person down. Not everyone has to be diagnosed with clinical, situational or other forms of depression to relate to these feelings of despair and I thought this poem describes the tormenting visits of this Melan C Holy baby.
Originally submitted at Stigmahurtseveryone
Criticism (haibun)
“Hello, you’ve reached a counsellor. How can I help you tonight?” I waited. I heard soft sobs; he spoke so fast, I could not decipher his story. “Are you safe right now? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I am safe. I’m at home alone. My parents are at my school meeting teachers. It’s the parent-teacher meeting tonight. They are going to kill me when they get home!” His voice reached a high note and he sounded more like a young, scared child…not his fifteen years.
He called out of helplessness…a last resort. Wishing to protect his family as youths usually do, he needed to get this off his chest for the first time. Tonight, he wept on the phone for the first time a practice he was accustomed doing privately … his nightly lullaby.
He was worried about his parents’ reaction on their return. He had an 82% average and usually he got 90+ He talked about his listlessness and difficulty concentrating lately, his insomnia, his depression…
“I can’t remember a night I have not cried myself to sleep since I was 11. My parents say I exaggerate and that I’m just going through adolescence.”
We talked about these “depressed” thoughts and I suggested a doctor could help to ensure he had a proper diagnosis and address his melancholy and his insomnia; I asked him to describe what it was like for him to feel sad every day, how did he interact with friends, was he involved in sports. He said he wore a mask at school. He quickly added his parents were not abusive and supportive. “They always tell me they love me and want me to go to them if I need help.” He broke down sobbing again.
I asked him what he was thinking…I wondered what triggered the sobs. He hesitated, “Well, I know my parents mean well but they always criticize me and tell me it’s for my own good. But I am so tired of hearing them talk to me like that…it hurts so much.” He sobbed softly.
He told me what his parents often add to their supportive messages, my mouth dropped as I heard it, “We love you, we care, what are you STUPID?!” I was silent. I felt like I’d been kicked me in the belly. I could not imagine how hurtful it must feel hearing such “criticism” day after day, for so many years.
We explored which trusted adult he could ask for support. Someone who might be able to help his parents understand how he feels. He thought of a family friend, his father’s best friend. I asked him if he would consider seeing his family doctor. He seemed wary about seeing his doctor without his parents knowing even if he was permitted at his age but would consider emailing his father’s best friend after our phone call.
He sighed and said he was very tired now but would call us again. “It feels good finally getting this off my chest. Thank you.”
(Hiaku)
True criticism
appraise and appreciate
does NOT denigrate.
© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/03/17
Photo credits: Psychology and Astrology
Something about Criticism.
Never give up (haiku)
Part of a puzzle
one big piece that does not fit
That just might be me
Darkness colours grey
oceans swallow fowl beliefs
sea of lost riddles.
despair clouds the mind
shift in attitude restores.
Equilibrium.
By no means give up
tomorrow’s another day
faith, hope… reliance
© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/02/24
