I Fell Hard

November:
Waking up one morning
not sure
why I’m at school
or of the reasons I’ve
spent three years there.

The month comes to an end
and the soreness in my sac
has emblazoned the fear
of cancer onto my mind.
Sitting there,
always gently reminding me
‘What if?’

December:
She leaves,
Saying something
About its not me, its her.
Living her life
without me in it.
And I can’t help but wish
she would just say
that she doesn’t love me anymore.
And as she goes,
it knocks me down to my knees.
I crawl across the floor
looking for something,
anything that makes sense.

Its nearing Christmas.
I’ve stopped sleeping
and only eat the occasional fruit cup.
I put on a front for my family
because there are other things
that need to be worried about.

January:
The month brings a dry cold with it
and I feel the wind
blowing through my chest;
Making a high pitched crying noise
as it passes through my ribs.
while I watch her drive away
one last time.

I learn that what I thought was cancer
is nothing more
than a large vein in my left testicle.
and I feel like an idiot
going through the store
looking for the right support
for my junk.

February:
I’m talking to my counselor
explaining that I feel lost
and how I don’t see myself
coming out of this
for the better.
I feel myself growing cold.
Just not giving a shit anymore.

March:
Something went wrong.
The will to keep going left me
allowing Agony and Misery
to get the upper hand in our fight.

Leaving me on the kitchen floor,
crying and writing a note,
to sort out my apologies,
to make sure no gets blamed,
to send out what’s left of my love,
to find some reason to keep moving.

April:
Two days in
and I’m locked away in a hospital.

So the next few poems are part of a series dealing with my time with severe depression, a brief asylum vacation, and the fall out from it.  If I recall correctly I wrote this one after the others dealing with the subject.  It felt appropriate to give an overview of how it progressed, to give a better understanding that i didn’t wake up one morning and decide to kill myself.  The months weren’t originally there, I added them in later to give a better sense of time.

The woman mentioned here was also named in the original.  I still debate including her actual name in the poem.  On one hand I feel like it gives it more substance to include it.  On the other hand I don’t think anyone wants to be named in a poem about depression.