Help & Poetry

I’ve been feeling pretty down in the dumps lately, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Then it came to me. As the weather started to turn sour, so did my mood. It’s one of those things where you begin to find it harder and harder to get out of bed, and you start putting off tasks that would normally be a quick job. That’s been me lately, it’s really a wonder I’ve been getting anything done.

The reason for this is because I’ve had a flare up of S.A.D – season affected depression that is. Sometimes I forget that I suffer from it, especially when last year I was so busy that I really didn’t have time to be alone with my thoughts. It didn’t hit me as hard as it is hitting me now. I’m posting this here because I want everyone to know that they are not alone. They don’t need to feel bad if they are having troubles adjusting, because it happens to a lot of people. Especially here in the Pacific Northwest.

In fact, the other day I wrote a poem that I would like to share. It depicts of how I feel whenever this comes around, and I’m betting people can relate.

You can feel like you’re choking
Suffocating on air
Your lungs could burst
But really who would care

Your feelings are fleeting
Your heart might be ice
Because you don’t have the will
To even play nice

You really wish you could feel
The way that you used to
You wish you could just see
The light instead of blue

But most of all the thing you want
Is for your heart to beat
Instead of breaking and pulling taut
Because you can’t stand that

Obviously it’s reflective of the funk I’m in, but that’s neither here or there, because really the reason I shared that was to give tips to those who might feel the same way. Some of the techniques I have found useful for this empty void in my chest are as follows:

  • Music. Listen to something upbeat, something to get your body moving and blood flowing. Sad songs aren’t going to cut it, because while they reflect your mood perfectly it’s only going to drag you further into your funk.
  • Write. It doesn’t matter what. Silly little poems, notes about the weather, how you’re feeling. Anything. Write it down.
  • Draw or color. I’ve hauled out my coloring books, and the color I place onto the paper really helps me cheer up a bit.
  • Eat. Make your favorite food, or just something simple. Being down in the dumps is no reason to let your health follow. Stay healthy, because your mood will improve.

Hopefully this at least helps somebody out there, because I really do know what it is like. There are people out there to support you, and you are not alone.

~Johana Spade.

 

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The One

You’re sitting at a café when a stranger approaches you. This person asks what your name is, and, for some reason, you reply. The stranger nods, “I’ve been looking for you.” What happens next?


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Nightmare Job

Dreams are made up of so much, but there is also a lot that makes up nightmares. We often hold onto our dreams, and try to push away our nightmares but they are always there. Surfacing at the worst, and most unexpected moments. Living in a nightmarish job would be absolute hell for anyone.

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Phobias

Phobias are very strange things. One second you can be perfectly content, happily reading away at some novel, and the next second you can spot that one thing that brings you terror and you can’t focus on anything else. Continue reading

That Fateful Day

Title: That Fateful Day

Prompt: Take the first sentence out of a random page in a novel and use it to create a story.

Sentence: “His laughter followed me out into the night, like velvet rubbing along my spine.” – Club Vampyre, Laurell K Hamilton.


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Story Excerpts

This is something I wrote a few years ago. It was a short paragraph meant to lead into a story and make the reader feel something. I still somewhat like it, and I’m working on getting out of my writer’s block so this might help


The wood felt cool beneath his fingers, and he shuffled his feet in the dirt beneath him. His heart pounded in his throat forcing him to swallow the lump of nerves that came along with it. This was it; this was the big moment that he had been waiting for. He couldn’t blow it, because he knew that there was really no other option left for him. His shoulders shifted as he stretched out his arms in anticipation. The chalked outline helped him to line up his feet as he faced down the demons that stood in the form of a 6’3” pitcher donned in a green jersey. He shucked a breath in through his teeth, his body hunching down into a squat. He was ready. The ball was launched from out of the opposing team’s fingers. He cocked his arms back and swung.

Head Turners

Feet pound the pavement
Destination in mind
I walk with sure strides

Determined, I move forward
My steps can’t be broken
A hum that sings of morning

People mull around me
I glance to my phone
An act to check the time

That’s when I hear it
Soft speech of words
Odd syllables of sound

Private words are perfect
In public they seem strange
I hear all around me

They don’t seem to see me
Can’t fathom I’m engaged
I listen to what they’re saying

The words cause a falter
My steps no longer sure
Yet their talk moves steady

The sounds stick on air
Causing my head to turn
A moment of pause before I move

An unintentional conversation of privy
Caused a wane to occur
How very odd

 ~Johana Spade ♠

 

Masterpiece Theatre III

I’ve got a new disease in me
It floats just beneath the surface
Lost in a world of hope and lies

Gone on a wayward wisp of breath
Separate from our very worlds
The plague of harsh realities

It is not something you can see
An ache of a thought in my mind
It’s something that shifts through the leaves

Dwindling strength found deep in my bones
I cannot feel air anymore
Yet I know I must continue on

~J. Spade