W.I.T.

W.I.T.

What is a girl?

Sugar and spice makes nothing solid

It cannot be on its own, cannot be something great

What is a girl?

Delicacy and fragility are impractical

A soft spine cannot support its own weight, let alone a friend

What is a girl?

Downcast eyes cannot see the beauty of the world

Downtrodden people cannot stand tall

What is a woman?

Compassion and strength go hand in hand

Kindness is not weakness

What is a woman?

Silk over steel, arms that lift and carry and scrub and help

There is value in hard work and teamwork

What is a woman?

Eyes alight with the wonder of life

A firm stance, a foundation that cannot be shaken

What am I?

I am a woman-in-training

Obligatory feministic poem.  I don't consider myself a feminist, really, not in the colloquial sense.  The traditional, original feminism, however, is something that I identify as a correct way of thinking.  A woman is human.  A man is human.  I wish that people thought in terms of "human", not in terms of "man".  Humankind, rather than mankind.

—•—•—

"Nothing is quite so pleasurable as doing the impossible."—Unknown

—L

Strength

Strength

to get out of bed weighed down with woes

when every step seems so small

insignificant in the face of the journey

to be kind even to the unkind

when every word is broken glass

shards shredding skin like wet paper

to eat what is healthy

when there is comfort to be had

salt and butter and sugar and death

to tell painful truths

when health is hell and life is a lie

a grinning skull for a face

to live with whispers

when De Sade sails in the Ear’s canal

ugly words hidden in the babbling water

to stand in shadow

when the world stands in sunlight

wondering what warmth feels like

A lot of things went into this.  Depression, anxiety… things I feel and think when my meds wear off.

—•—•—

"Life may not be the party we hoped for, but, while we're here, we might as well dance."—Unknown

—L

Bolts and Blots

Bolts and Blots

Oil and dirt

cool steel in my hand

My wrench is heavy

solid

the power to

create

repair

dismantle

Ink and graphite

cool steel in my hand

My pen is light

smooth

the power to

create

augment

unmake

Which is greater?

The wonder and joy of creation is… simply put, the most profound feeling I've ever experienced.  It is the love of God, of a parent for a child.  Building and basic repair may not be comparable to having children, but writing…  For me, writing a book is like having a child.  The physical process of writing is pregnancy and childbirth, complete with pain, horrifying moments where it seems the labor will never end, and joy in the completed progress.  By this logic, I have had many miscarriages, but every new story is another chance, another life growing in my word-processor womb.

It is a simple, pleasant joy, though rife with frustration and heartache.  Is that not parenthood?

—•—•—

"I'm thankful to be a writer because I've gone from someone who looks at mountains to someone who can move them."—Anthony Timperman

—L

Some poetry, because why not?

Fifteen

A teardrop fell upon my soul

Unseen, unnoticed, rust grew

an orange spot amid my freckles

and I never knew

how it would gnaw and eat

like an obsessive dog

slowly, slowly, slowly

my soul began to rot

I thought this would be the best way to start off my revival of this blog.  A lot of my poetry can be sorted into two categories: wonder and depression.  Obviously, this is about my depression.

I was a teenager when the depression first began to affect me.  However, I didn't get treatment for my condition until I was almost twenty.  This was due to my own shame over what I felt.  I had two very powerful breakdowns.  The first was the most frightening to me; in college, I struggled with suicidal fantasies and the desire to hurt myself.  The second was less intense, less dangerous, but no less damaging; I sank very slowly into a mire of depression while I was training to become a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

There is a lot of hurt and secrecy involved in depression.  If you suffer from depression, even if you don't think it's serious, or don't want to involve anyone, or if you're embarrassed, I would advise you to seek help.  Go to someone you trust and talk.  If there's no one you can trust, find a good therapist.  Talk to your doctor.  Go to a support group.  There are a lot of people out there who would like nothing more than to lend you a willing ear, to see you standing on your feet.

If your loved one suffers from depression and chooses to confide this in you, DO NOT ASK WHY.  There may be an answer.  There may not.  Listen and be kind.  Depression is like cancer; hidden, insidious, and lethal.  It is a disease, not a choice.  Your loved one chose to trust you with a deep secret; if you must say something, thank them for their trust and assure them that you love and accept them, that the depression does not change the way you feel.

—•—•—

"If things continue to be debilitating, seek the advice of reputable people with certified training, professional skills, and good values. Be honest with them about your history and your struggles. Prayerfully and responsibly consider the counsel they give and the solutions they prescribe. If you had appendicitis, God would expect you to seek a priesthood blessing and get the best medical care available. So too with emotional disorders. Our Father in Heaven expects us to use all of the marvelous gifts He has provided in this glorious dispensation."

—Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "Like a Broken Vessel"

—L