Unwelcome Guest


Anxiety, depression, panic, stress, the highs and lows, the cycles…the word I still have trouble saying, bipolar. I’ve never written about this topic before, because honestly I have a hard enough time even talking about. Maybe it’s because I think there is still a stigma attached to all of these words. Maybe it is partly due to not wanting to admit something other than me has reign over what ever mood I am in when I wake up each day. The painting is somewhat of a self portrait  done during a low cycle intended to capture my vulnerability from depression. It was easier for me to paint about it than talk about it. The poem was written during a time that I had been on a long happy cycle, a cycle that tricked me into thinking I was better or cured. When it ended, a desperate hopelessness and realization settled in that this is it, this fight is forever. I fight it one day at a time.

Unwelcome Guest

What do you do with an unwelcome guest

That makes himself at home in the rooms of your chest

Rooms meant for loved ones, family, and friends

He takes one by one from beginning to end

He redecorates in black and draws the drapes against light

Then he bolts all the doors and arms for a fight

Now alone just us two he serves me melancholy from a cup

And we dine on overcooked anxiety from the plate which we sup

So what’s there to do with an unwelcome guest

Who lives like a king in the decay of my chest


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