Saturday, June 11, 2011

Vhat a day! Brief Return of the Big D / Poem: Drowning Ants

"Open sesame" is the instruction I'm giving to my brain now to remember what happened on Friday, two days ago. Was sitting on the couch at my Diabetes Injecting Station when suddenly I felt an unmistakable wave of depression wash over me.

As always, I reviewed what I had done that day that might have brought it on. I hadn't been depressed in, like, 10 years.

First thot was that Diabetes and insulin use often causes depression. My friend, the late Bill Cardinale, was on insulin for decades when depression hit. An antidepressant helped him but took ages to kick in.

I sat there thinking, So soon? So soon for me?

Then I remembered I did couples counseling earlier that day. A therapist knows that when a couple comes in it's gonna be a sad and frustrating situation. Could it have gotten to me?

I must confess that whenever I see on the right of this blog that Ruth Deming is accepting new clients I jump.

Me, a therapist? Really? Who am I to posture that I know how to counsel individuals?

Oh, she certainly knows what she's doing, laffs the wife I counseled. Her husband nods enthusiastically.

Actually, dear reader, I am quite good. (Except when I'm not.) I did well by them. We came up with a compromise plan. You'll grant him this and he'll grant you this. IF they'll do it!

So as I sat on the couch preparing to inject my insulin, I thot, Well, I'm certainly gonna get help for my depression if it lingers. It was now about 60 seconds long.

I went thru all the antidepressants in my mind. When I had bipolar d/o I never took an antidepressant, only a mood stabilizer (lithium) and an antipsychotic when I went off my rocker (Haldol, Risperdal or Navane).

To summon those boys again - as I just did - is not a happy thought.

Hey, maybe it's this music that's making me depressed. I was listening to the blues: Mississippi Fred MacDowell. The poor man's heart was breaking and he was communicating those feelings directly into my pore heart.

I was too lazy to turn him off.

And then I decided to work on a new poem - Drowning Ants - for Poetry Night on Friday nite.

By the time I fell exhausted into bed, I had forgotten all about my depression.

DROWNING ANTS

where there is one

there are many.

my robust soldier saunters

across the counter with

muscled torso

Caesar entering the forum

victorious!

who daresay you lack nobility

scouting for provisions

a walking slip of shiny

licorice far from home.

your countless pals await you,

brave soldier,

a short but purposeful life:

To die for the Republic.

i squeeze you between my fingertips

Know that your assassin cringes

- et tu, poetess? -

i place you struggling in a

plastic Starbucks coffee cup

and run you

out the front door

you have already waggled up

the side and over

- your loyalty immense -

i take no pleasure in

pouring you into the

birdbath

and flee back inside:

guilty as charged.

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