Depression

...darkness stealing the light...

Depression

Part I

No, not the dent shaped,

pocked marked oval

left in the ground

after being hit by a large,

round,

object.

But, if thought about long enough,

it would seem,

or even more

feel like

this oval object

is careening through your head,

while leaving black and blue

bruise marks all over

your insides

as it meanders slowly

though out your body.

***

They often say depression

is Blue.

I disagree.

It’s more that drab,

piss yellow color

flowing in long rivulets

looking for another color,

anything;

colors that were

never

there.

***

Part II

Perhaps, it was looking for Red.

A vibrant color;

the color of passion,

emotion,

even anger is an emotion

that finally explodes.

But I think it’s more the red,

blood red,

that when seen,

keeps you alive.

And so,

as you cut

into your skin,

cut, dab, cut again,

craving out the red

while carving out 

the words,

“I am alive”

“I am here”

***

Part III

Why is it mostly women who cut?

Men cut too,

but not as many.

They have other forms of depression:

jumping outta tall buildings,

picking fights,

getting their scars through sports,

or perhaps picking up guns,

going off to kill, torture, rape.

No, it’s mostly women who cut.

Not because they can’t do any of the above;

they can,

and some do,

but cutting is more a private,

personal and solitary adventure.

It is much more courageous

than going off to war.

Women are mostly told

they, alone must

“bear the sins”

of mankind;

raise the future,

care for a small unit of beings

and suffer the consequences

of barrenness.

With so much solitariness

and pressured for many millennium,

why would their depression,

their cutting,

their acts of courage

and calls for real “life”,

not be solitary

alone

acts?

***

Part IV

Even long after

the worst has gone,

the drab yellow remains,

mixed with the scars

scattered over the skin,

easily felt

proclaiming:

“I am alive.”

“I am here”

~~redzone 7.30.14

(Note: some thoughts on depression as I was reading

Gillian Flynn’s book “Sharp Objects”)

Author's Note

thanks for reading....
"...like a stone I wait for you there, patiently, alone..."
captcha: mithraic... as if I knew???!!!!

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, "piss yellow" more like it for depression...blue is soft, beautiful....halcyon does not remind me of depression...

i like how you explored all the different themes of depression...not the depression in the earth when a meteor strikes....but when the heart or mind is in depression because something big has fallen from the sky and landed on the speaker...something really painful to through...same kind of damage.

[kublakhan27]

I REALLY had to sit and ponder this one for a while, and even now, as I attempt to navigate this comment box, I'm still unsure as to what my fingers are gonna type...I've lived with this since my preteen years, and I feel like I've wasted a lot of poetic energy in trying to articulate it, cuz you've nailed it here in a way that leaves me in awe...I've spent a lot of time pondering this issue, bemoaning it, questioning it, but I never came up with any answers that satisfied me...I've found lots of satisfactory answers here...perhaps I need to read this book...

The easiest reference point for me to start with is with the colour sections...blue is my favourite colour, so I was able to draw a twisted kind of comfort from the possibility that piss yellow is the most ideal colour to attach to it...mind you, I'm more attracted to the red, as years of broken dishes will attest to...but I spend an awful lot of time irrationally pissed off at things as well...my prime target in the last year or so has been this very site...even though I have some great and dear friends here, I'm never happy with what I consider to be a lack of attention compared to many of them...as honest and open as my writing is, I never feel truly understood with the exception of one person...I rarely see my name on the 'hit' lists, and it agitates me to no end...I should be happy with the friends I have and the support I get from them for my work, but I bemoan the attention I don't get instead...then I feel guilty on top of depressed, and that's been probably the dominant theme of much of my writing over the last six months or so...it's simply not enough to say yes I'm alive, and I'm here...my mother has telling me for years that I should simply be happy to be alive...such simple advice, yet the toughest piece of advice I've ever had to digest...I'm still trying to digest it, but I get it down a little more every day...

This is an incredibly profound and refreshing piece, and i gotta say, I wish I wrote it, or at the very least, thought of it this way...I guess that alone proves where my head is at...this may be the master work of your catalogue...and I'm not sure I can read another piece tonight cuz I'll be contemplating this once long after I hit the submit button...I'm just in awe...this is an amazing piece of poetry.

[redzone]

The main character in the book is a woman very damaged for many reasons who cut words into her skin. Words that came to her mind based on things she did or saw or felt... it was her way of "coping" of knowing she was alive... it was a horrible toll... the book was not easy to reaqd. I had to put it down a few times to collect thoughts and to not feel depressed myself. It is up to you of course, but I'm not sure it is a book to get answers for you. But I can't say anything for sure cause while it is easy to give advise, it also often does more harm than good, even if well intentioned. I do know a few things though and one is that you can always count on me to listen and to read your poetry and to comment on them if I am able to.. I know who you refer to and their support and friendship is like a very cool drink on the hottest day of summer.. this friend may have a better understanding of this than I ever could.

I know it is frustrating at times about the amount of reads and comments on a poem you write. To be honest it was Frieda and Lydi that sent people to read my poetry. This idea that you only read someone who has read your stuff, is not all that great an idea. I understand its reasoning, but it also works to keep many people unread and unknown. I for example do not have the time to read all the poetry from different people I would like to, yet along also leaving comments. I don't like to just leave a "good poem" comment and to leave a more in depth review takes time. Your comment above for example is amazing and I don't think you just slapped it down in the box... I say this cause I think it's true that the lack of reads is not your fault or lack of artistic qualities in your writings... of course my saying this doesnt make it any easier....

Lastly, if you want to add your name to this poem because you have felt the way it expresses as something you know, then it is already your poem... no strings attached I am just happy that it unleashed within you things you are thinking about and coming to terms with...

You are a wonderful poet Steve, or as Frieda would say, Mr Dali-esque Benji!!! And how could anyone ever argue with such an insightful poet and woman as Frieda... so now you have two of us on your tail.. er.. well frieda's on your tail, I'm just assisting... ;0)
Be well Steve

[Baby Ricochet]

I've always loved this song. It sounds like masculine remorse. This is an excellent poem. A lot of lines about cutting, I don't know much about that but I've known a girl or two who did. I can tell you being deployed. IE "going off to war" isn't all that courageous. Courageously careless acts do happen in the mist of war but being deployed, you get orders and your division goes. With virtually everyone you know being deployed, save family and a few civilians, the idea of saying "I don't want to go" never enters your mind. It's treason and you'd be a pariah for the rest of your miserable life. I'm not suggesting you change anything in this poem. My "reviews" such as they are, are just whatever the poem pops in my head and this poem rocket popped a million synapses. I like the quality of loneliness the poem brings out with depression. Piss yellow is a great color for it. I read somewhere men cry with their fists. It would seem so. If man is good at anything it's violence. Great poem. One of the best I've read in awhile.

[redzone]

Thanks Baby R, to have a million synapses popped is what every poets wants those who read have... I refused to go to Vietnam, had my physical and everything but for some reason never got the orders to go for basic training... but me and a friend were oprepared to fight it if called up... no go to Canada, but resist... there were consequences to this declaration, but it was mainly with family and a few friends... But I would do this again if I were a young man... I appreciate your reading and for all your thoughts on this poem... be well Baby R...

[Baby Ricochet]

The Vietnam draft was a different animal. Not only was the college deferment grossly unfair to the poor not everyone's cut out for the military and Vietnam was bullshit. So was Iraq and Afghanistan but we volunteered. Their never should have been a draft after 1945.

[Frieda P]

Deep and darkly profound Curt, had to read this one a few times, to have the colors sink in....some of it sounds like an acid trip on depression, what are you reading? I love part 3, differentiating the effects depression has on men and women....I could read this a hundred times and come away with some new insight...or incite. Another amazing piece my friend. xo

[redzone]

Was reading Gillian Flynn's "Sharp Objects", she wrote "Gone Girl" that was popular last year (read that one too). It was not an easy read... With the drab yellow I was trying to with images bring out how in some forms of depression, your world is colorless, drab, and piss yellow is about waste, body waste and wasted life or lives but looking for color... mayeb the way I did this was too abstract??? What do you think??? I am really glad you read this poem Frieda, I wasn't sure you would and that you found some insight or incite in it is an absolutely great compliment.... it means a lot to me Frieda... oxox

[Frieda P]

No I don't think it was abstract in the least, you got your point across quite aptly, I like the unique way you used the colors to represent different feelings of depression, some of it is maddening though, just the thought of what our minds are capable of really...I must pick up that book. It's always my pleasure to read you Curt, you're brilliant my sweet friend. xo