Posted in Blogging, Life

How I Spent the Winter

It may seem as though I abandoned my blog. It does look that way. Though appearances are often deceiving

As much as I wanted to write, I had a series of catastrophes to deal with. First, my failing marriage– no surprise there. Second, health issues and testing– stalemate. Third, my children (my teenager and his issues) — home-school.

Situations aren’t as bad as they look on computer screen. With many prayers and compromises from both parties, my marriage is improving. Health issues are.. meh. It seems my situation stays same, which is disheartening. I am hoping my last specialist appointment will help uncover part of the mystery. And home-school.. I know! Wow!

So why did I decide on home-school?

Having a teenager is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life! They are so hard. I feel bad for EVERYTHING I put my mother through!!

My son isn’t a troublemaker. He wasn’t expelled. The school wasn’t helping him. They were holding him back in some ways, and he was falling behind in others. Our decision was based on the school and partly due to the crowd he was hanging out with. He never fell behind before. He always made the honor roll.

My daughter experienced some trouble in elementary school. It seemed beneficial to look for alternatives. I  did a ton of research for online schools vs. traditional homeschooling, and found an exceptional online school. After a month of deciding, as it wasn’t a decision made lightly, they were enrolled. We needed something different!

Starting school at home was not without its challenges. We had to adapt to a routine. However, they are doing excellent. I am proud of them. Although it does consume my time, I love how rewarding it is to watch them grow and learn.

Over the winter, I went through a major depression. I didn’t feel like doing anything aside from my normal routine, and hanging out with family. Family was great. Forget going outside. Seeing anyone. Talking to anyone. Writing anything. Why write anything? It’s going to sound dumb.

Anything I loved doing– I didn’t have the energy or willpower to do.

I hated how I looked in the mirror. I hated my reflection. Eat. Don’t eat. Sleep. Can’t sleep. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. 

Depression is awful. It makes you think things that aren’t true. Feel things you shouldn’t feel. What am I supposed to remember again? Crap! Grumble. Grumble. Grumble. 

I didn’t have any thoughts of suicide, but some who battle depression do. If you have depression and have these thoughts please talk to someone– a counselor or the suicide hotline–  1-800-273-8255

More than 300 million people of all ages suffer from depression. So if you are one of the ones who suffer like I do, you are not alone. May is Mental Health Awareness month!

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Posted in Poetry

Wasted Energy

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Wasted Energy.
LC. © 2017

Depression is a
dark cloud over my head, lurking.
Like I created
my own personal
monsoon. If only I had
energy to blast
the rain from capturing my
soul- a rainbow would
appear in the sky.

Posted in Poetry

Out of the Shadows

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Out of the Shadows.

Lynne Cole. © 2016

I’m tired of living my life–
in these dark shadows you cast.
I’m not the person you wish I’d be.
You hold on ever so tightly to the past.
I’m forever and with no regrets me.

You wallow in self-pity–
bathing in layers of disdain.
Ideals you’ve become a slave to.
Your family unit you try so hard to contain.
Keeping secrets that threaten to break you.

Your actions towards others–
like you don’t even care.
This isn’t how families act.
Feeling attacked. Not fighting fair.
Walking on shards of glass.

No longer will I walk around cutting my feet.
Getting to know me is a two-way street.
I am your daughter only through DNA–
In no way are we the same.

I’m not going to live my life in your shadow–
the past is gone, and tomorrow is new.
Be proactive, not hollow–
Only talking can heal the wounds of the past like glue.

Posted in Poetry

Standing Tall

Standing Tall.
©LC 2016

Every day is a struggle,
internally– it is a fight.
Just to appear “normal,”
It is exhausting– trying to be alright.

Palpitations arise in my chest,
I debate over the mask I will wear–
To be the person they want me to be.
Palms sweaty. I try not to care.

Worry consumes my every thought.
If only things would work out alright.
I cloak myself in the dignity I have left.
Maybe I will sleep tonight.

My stomach nerves are a ball of fire
in public places, I try to contain.
I do my best with relationships–
though they can be difficult to maintain.

I often feel out-of-place–
the words won’t come-I’m being judged.
And though I know I may not belong,
I know I did nothing wrong.

Anxiety is a part of me.
A common issue in society.

Awareness should be raised for all.
Acceptance and understanding helps us Stand TALL.

** I hope this encourages someone else to talk about their battles with anxiety, depression, or other mental illnesses!

Anxiety is something I’ve struggled with for years. It can be hard to talk about a sensitive issue.

If enough awareness is raised on these illnesses, they won’t be perceived in such a negative manner.

Do you struggle with anxiety, depression, or another disorder?

Lynne

 

Posted in Poetry

The Raven– Edgar Allan Poe

The Raven – Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
”Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.’

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
”Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more.’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
‘Sir,’ said I, ‘or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, ‘Lenore!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, ‘Lenore!’-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
‘Surely,’ said I, ‘surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
‘Tis the wind and nothing more.’

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
‘Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, ‘art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as ‘Nevermore.’

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, ‘other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’
Then the bird said, ‘Nevermore.’

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
‘Doubtless,’ said I, ‘what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never- nevermore’.’

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking ‘Nevermore.’

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
‘Wretch,’ I cried, ‘thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

‘Prophet!’ said I, ‘thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

‘Prophet!’ said I, ‘thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

‘Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,’ I shrieked,
upstarting-
‘Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!’
Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!

Posted in Poetry

Come Back

Come back.

©2016 LC

I look at you daddy,

and I see so much pain.

A man split in two.

Maybe never to be whole again?

Looking at you daddy–

I realize you look a lot like me.

I can see the pain in your eyes.

Yet so much is hidden that I don’t see.

I look at you– my father–

and the pain consuming your face.

I hope it wasn’t ever caused by me

Because I didn’t grow up at your place.

I look at your hands–

so much bigger than mine.

But the hurt, the pain, in your eyes–

has been there for quite some time.

I look at you– my dad,

and I realize I don’t really know you– at all.

Except we like to occasionally listen to the same tunes.

You and mom gave me up when I was so small.

Looking at you daddy,

is like seeing a wraith– a ghost.

When are you coming back to us?

Your family needs you the most.

Posted in Poetry

Flirting with Death

Flirting with Death.
©LC 2016

He hides behind the lies,
Depression feeds into his mind.
“Feel sorry for me,” he says with his eyes.
While inside his soul withers and dies.

The darkness his uncontrollable obsession–
though the demons he cannot face.
He has become their prized possession.
As he considers his last confession.

He wants to go in as-much he wants to stay.
Haunted by ghosts of yesterday.
Regrets crush his chest with every breath.
As he flirts with idea of death.

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month.

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