I don’t talk about my mental health much, but when a slump does come, coupled with 20 draft blog posts I haven’t published yet from the last 4 months and being unemployed, writing does help me express how I feel, even if there is no logic. Unlike a phone compass that has lost its north, running around in a figure of eight does not help me find mine. To try and recalibrate my brain’s perspective, apart from yoga and cycling, I do actively feed my mind with both very positive and motivational things as well as very devastating things. But generally its just a waiting game, while making sure I stay busy, as I know its mostly just my hormones sending me into a dark hole, which I know is only temporary. I don’t often feel compelled to write a poem as I do not know much about writing them, but this is what came out recently:
circling in the north sea breeze,
back and forth along the coastline
Always busy, going nowhere
It’s ironic to lose meaning,
while searching for purpose
I guess I did not do it right,
when I tried trusting my inner voice.
How can one feel so low,
when one has stood so high?
I know that happiness is a state of mind,
but, my mind only wants to cry
There are many big ideas,
only imagined, not realised
I feel so doubtful of ability,
scared to commit and fail, not fly
I try to not believe my lies,
I hike- to prove that I can
What do I feel passion for?
No dream to fight for, to win?
If belief now fades, then was all for nought?
Is time travel possible yet?
‘Run away back to India’,
the only idea where I’d hedge my bets
But thinking now, it’s trust that’s lost,
and needs to be re-achieved
Cry and scream, then focus and choose
a path, so what if you fall?
Every failure is learning you know,
yes sure, we know that from the Greats
But it’s too late to change again ‘n’ again,
Says who? Look around. Try it all!
There’s nothing that really actually matters,
apart from in our tangled mind
Just trust that all’s an illusion,
And enlightenment will be easy to find.