Originally, I thought that I’d write plainly about how awful 2017 was for me. I decided against it because it seemed boring and redundant. My journal guided me through this post. I included excerpts of forgotten poetry, a bundle of emotions, and photos, of course. If you are triggered by talks of suicide and depression, read with caution because it is included.
2017In January, I spent most of my time at home preparing to return to school for the spring semester. I was fine when classes began. Cold, but fine. My roommate moved out and the tiny dorm felt bigger than before, leaving just enough room for lonesome. But I was fine.
In February I had a birthday. Twentieth. My mom visited me, and the feeling of lonesome decreased. My birthdays the two previous years felt exhaustingly lonely for some reason. I haven’t spent a birthday at home since I turned fifteen. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, but I’m beginning to dread my birthday. The rest of the month was cold and confusing. I spent most of my days alone. I was still fine. Not bad. Not good. Just fine. Spiralization didn’t begin until the end of the month. I was having a lot of nightmares.
like a soft sweet
lullaby
the one you’d hear
your mother sing
whenever you cried.
you’ve memorized all the
words + every single
harmony.
sometimes you’d sing it
to me
but times grew weary
and your hum
turned into a hush
everytime I’d ask for your
lullaby light in the dark.
March came and went with a platter of words never uttered, leaving behind traces of resentment. On the other hand, there were tight, but calming embraces and gentle kisses. Shivering walks to Little Italy with new friends kept me hopeful that warmth would soon return. Before the end of the month, there was 13 Reasons Why nurturing my thoughts of suicide. I spent nights in the dark, reluctant to even undress my bed and climb into my sheets. I was angry at myself for breathing. I was angry at everyone else for not seeing.
let thunder cry out
let her throw tantrums
and let me rage
along with her.
April bumped into March aggressively and brought showers. At the time I imagined the hours of melancholia and depression to be endless. I imagined myself elsewhere. Mostly dead. Several feet below the ground. School was a blur of obligation and sadness.
wading in the water
i end up
drifting downstream.
swimming in circles
patrolling the pond
for purpose.
lawsuit on my lungs
+ i’m tempted
to testify
the unholiest of truths
+ tell em
only grey skies
was growing in the
spring time.
In May I went home, unaware that I’d never return to my previous school. Oh, the joys of reuniting, sunshine, and blue skies. No one ever talks about skyscrapers blocking the sky, making it almost impossible to imagine life within the clouds. A sense of calm grew over me, briefly. From time to time I’d wither into an existential crisis, but mostly, I was fine.
my surroundings
blurred
into shadows
drenched in
foam from an extinguisher.
i never return to the site
once the fire has been tamed
i run
& run
to set fire to
everything else.
June bid me hello and uncertainty lingered from this point on. Somehow I stayed afloat, battling a quiet, but treacherous storm. I created a platform I’d been itching to. I wrote more for myself in the next few months than I had in the past two years. I felt free. I got a job at the end of the month. Gently, it urged me out of my comfort zone. I’m grateful.
July and August turned me into a busy bee, buzzing through everyday with purpose. Everything was new. The people. The places. Bliss crept through, leaving sadness dangling from the side of a building, hanging on desperately.
September carried a truckload of uncertainty. There was a lot of anger and something more overwhelming than sadness. Most days I spent alone, wondering if I made the wrong choice, wondering what was next. I made mistakes that I still can’t talk about without quiet cries creeping up at the back of my throats. Oh well.
cold lines
and shivering spines
living
without the sunrise.
stretching out for you
in the shadows.
perch your head
through my window
+ let some
light in.
In October, there was someone new to talk to. She diagnosed me with depression. Weary of my thoughts of suicide, she didn’t give me meds. I went through weeks of talk therapy. Before November swept me away, October granted me warmth, walks in the park, and a hand to hold.
November was full of everything new. An acceptance letter and a change of major, a journey I will soon embark. Two new countries, familiar faces, and loads of laughter made me eager for December. Uncertainty snapped me out of my happy trance. Sadness lingered, but I was okay.
soon she was able
to move
no longer feeling
the pressures of the walls
pushing against
her palms.
aware of her breath
rising + falling
aware that everything
was nothing
after evading fear.
Mixed in melodiously with holidays and family gatherings, December is leaving me with a healthy dose of everything I could possibly feel. Gratefulness. Joy. Sadness. Confusion. Nervousness. Excitement. Everything in between.
I’ve met the bottom of the plummet. I plunged head first and suffered for it time and time again. Hopefully, this means I can only go up, even if that means hitting the bottom, instead, with my feet.
i then learned
it is of our nature
to blossom
+ wither
throughout life.
Thank you for reading. I hope you’ll continue to do so.
Happy New Year,
-Sara B.
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