Tag Archives: depressed

Week 22 – Yearning

There are things I know I’m missing, which can haunt me to no end. I don’t always know what they are nor can I see them clearly at times. I’m thirsty for something, yearning for it – but what? No clue.

What can desire bring me? Will satisfying that itch, that yearning, will it make it all better? Would I be happy then? Will happiness cling to my chest and will peace take board?

I often doubt it. Sometimes when I know what it is I yearn, I know the harm and consequences that may occur. Many have tried to convince me to silence the voices that tell me not to give in to temptation. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

I pride myself on saying “no”, but it’s frustrating and can be insulting when someone belittles my intelligence or beliefs. “Sure, I’ve been waiting for you to give me permission all me life.” When will it be okay to say yes?

There are times I yearn for something not so harmful (you know unless some freak accident kills me, or I contract some unknown disease that will later be named after me). Live by the ocean or the sea, camp out under the stars in the middle of nowhere. Trust a stranger and sleep on their couch. Open my heart, even if for a short while and let myself feel… try things that scare me. I yearn to live. I guess that’s the clearest image most times.

However, it’s the smaller things that can get to me at times. The day to days. The things I miss or wish for; the company, the care, the peace, the noise…the love. I find myself thinking about my mother often lately. I would think of those moments I disappointed her, or the moments I did something that hurt her in some way and I would beat myself up for not being a better a daughter. I wasn’t bad, but I still have those bad memories I thought I had forgotten or let go. It’s the love that I miss the most. I guess I beat myself up because I never showed her how much I loved her – that I appreciated her more than I’d showed.

There are moments I feel I’ve lived too long and times when I feel I haven’t lived at all; that the end will find me all too soon. I hope the end doesn’t find me too soon.

If I knew

If I knew where I’m going, I would take what I need and what I’ve always wanted but never had the courage to claim.

If I knew where I’m going, I would spit all those comebacks and justifications that I chose then never to reveal for the sake of propriety or what I thought  was right.

If I knew where I’m going, I would pack lightly, practically, and forsake what was once dragging me behind.

If I knew where I’m going, I would slip out quietly, for once giving up the desire for attention that I desperately sought before.

If I knew where I’m going, I would only look back once ..as tribute for a life once lived.

If I knew where I’m going, I would bottle their laughter, puns and silly jokes

I would box all their unexpected hugs, their knowing nudges, and comfort touches.

If I knew where I’m going I would leave at once, and Leave the mess to be dealt with by someone else.

If I knew where I’m going, I would walk surely, steadily and calmly knowing I no longer, need my thoughts filtered, my expression hidden nor do I need to change the subject anymore,

I would finally stop deflecting.

If I was just sure of where I’m going I would finally be OK

If only I knew where I’m going.

Simple Desires Chapter 4

Cecilia woke up to the rhythmic noise…what the hell?
She sat up from her bed slowly spied at her clock through sleepy eyes, it was 3:00 am.
Where was that noise coming from?
It took her a while to register that it was coming from chris’ side, what in god’s name was he doing in this hour? Didn’t he have his closing argument tomorrow on that big case he was working on?
She slowly stood up and tilted her head near the wall above her bed and stuck her ear to the wall to make sure it was from Chris ‘side.
Ok… Ok don’t judge she was just curious because this was weird, and Chris was such private person.
Then she heard what made her face drain of color
A very soft moan followed by a thump.
She pushed off the wall her face coloring, was Chris…, no he never had a girlfriend or even a girl over at his apartment , well except for her .
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly didn’t feel like sleeping, she miserably grabbed her pillow and the book she was reading from the night stand and headed out for the living room sofa. she didn’t know why she felt restless and honestly a little bit hurt that Chris would trust someone to be with him intimately when she barley felt allowed to touch him freely ,sure they hugged and touched but it was always a calculated move from Chris or her and never spontaneous.
She spread on the sofa trying to figure out why she was so affected by the sounds she heard, Chris was a grown man ,she didn’t have any control over him ,and he was quite handsome to be honest ,his build had changed over the years from tall and gangly to broad and solid and the hours he spent at the gym couldn’t hurt too .
She discovered that chris was an exercise freak, If he wasn’t running he was boxing if he didn’t have time for the gym then he would spend hours on his tread mill at home, she once tried going jogging with him and he freakin lapped her and he did it so graciously with a soft smile on his face , she had expected his green eyes to dance with mirth but he didn’t, he kept encouraging her to join him for more runs .
She huffed annoyingly as she adjusted the pillow under her head, so much for Mr. Celibate, it looks like he didn’t have any problems in THAT area.
“I don’t do relationships Ceels” she remembered her last argument with him when she cornered him about relationships a couple of days ago, well apparently a relationship is being done as we speak!
Stupid Cecelia, you though he was some kind of wounded soul that needed healing, that he had something against touching and intimacy because of a childhood trauma!
She opened her book and tried to bury her feelings and thoughts until she drifted off to sleep but unfortunately she managed with little success.

Shit…shit I’m late!
Cecelia rushed to the elevator stuffing a pastry in her mouth pressing the call button several times, she doesn’t know why abusing the call button will somehow achieve anything but it’s a nervous tick and she was already having a lousy morning that had followed a sleepless night filled with dreams about obscene moans and bed thumping and her yelling at whomever was making the noise to shut up cause some people were single and liked their quiet and moan free life thank you very much!
“Morning Ceels” Chris greeted standing next to her
What the shit was he doing here? He always heads out to work an hour before her
Ceels are you ok? “Chris asked giving her a concerned look.
Oh that’s awesome Cecelia stand there making reaction to your inner monologue like a damn idiot!
“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well last night”
“Yeah me too, I’m so exhausted “Chris responded rubbing his eyes
Is he fucking kidding me!
“I bet you were “I mumbled
“Excuse me? “ Chris looked confused
“Nothing “I said in a clipped tone
“Ceels are you. I don’t know angry with me? “Chris asked unsure
“Yes …no …ahh “I ran my hands through my long chocolate brown hair in frustration
“I mean you’re an adult, you can do what you want and if you want to spend the night with some leggy model from your posh firm its totally fine, just keep it down next time cause if you haven’t noticed we share a bedroom wall ,so what happened yesterday was not cool “I rushed in one breath
“I didn’t have anyone over yesterday? “Chris answered puzzled
“Chris I heard banging and moaning yesterday at three in the morning, you weren’t hanging pictures that’s for sure “I said sarcastically.
Does he think I’m that stupid? Come on, is he really going to deny it?
I looked up at him and was shocked to see his face drain from color , looking at him I noticed that he did look tired ,and the dark circles around is eyes was a clear indication.
He fell silent maybe embarrassed to be caught after lying.
The elevator dinged and we entered silently, a thick and somewhat awkward silence falling on us.
As we stood by each other, I stole a look at him and saw him adjust his work bag on his shoulders?
Then I noticed it
Under the cuffs of his light blue dress shirt there were deep red bruises slightly turning to purple at the ends.
Chris what’s wrong with your hand? The question slipped before I could help it.
He immediately pulled his cuff and slid his hand in his pocket, a stone wall descending on his handsome tired face
“Chris were you tied?” I asked shocked while invading his space.
“Ceels drop it “he answered coldly.
“Are you into these things?” I continued to question ignoring his warning.
“The BDSM stuff “I asked my face turning beat red
I put my hand on his arm trying to angle him to look at his other wrest.
“Ceels would you stop touching me, I don’t like it “Chris snapped
“I didn’t see you having a problem with that yesterday? “I snapped back after he shoved his hand behind his back.
He looked angry now.
“You know what Ceels it’s none of your business! if I had someone or not, stop meddling and fixing and prying ,if I want to tell you something I will, if not then stay the hell out of it! “ and then the treacherous elevator door opened and he rushed out leaving me quiet shocked from his outburst .
Chris had never shouted at me this way
I felt my throat close as I headed out ,making sure I slowed down so I could miss him , I don’t get it, something is missing ,did he have someone over or not ? And if he didn’t who gave him those marks?
Then a body shivering thought crossed my mind.
Did he do it to himself?
I’ve studied the psychology behind self-harm and how it can sometimes release stress but is that what it was? But from what I’ve read it mostly involves cutting, the person doing it waiting for release in the form of blood easing out of him .but that wasn’t the case, Chris had bruises.

what the hell was going on?



Deadline to succeed

Deadline to get there

Deadline to make it

Deadline to break down

Deadline to love

Deadline to live

Deadline to breath

Deadline to let go

Deadline to laugh

Deadline to cry

Deadline to try in order to be let down

Deadline to wake up

Deadline to rest

Make up your mind

Quickly now there’s not time

We have to meet the deadline

Briskly walk ,talk, hug and kiss

Deadline to think

Could I be saved

Untamed, let loose

Chase and fumble

Carefree with no deadlins to chain me

As I write, I note

There goes another deadline I meet

I am not happy,

I am ingulfed , and trapped.

Dark grey slime sticks to me.

Chin barely surfacing.

I inhale gulps of lime green smoke.

That will never satisfy.

They are walking around.

Indifferent, ignorant, apathetic.

My lungs don’t call for help .

Stupid pride and ego have chained and bound them.

I have only but short time to glance at their indifference, willing them to look.

Call it a fools hope, but I will take what I can get,

Or face the numbness.

Week Six – Isolation

Once upon a time

I built a wall to protect me.

Protect me from the world,

People’s darkness and hatred. 

To protect and preserve innocence

That is now long gone. 

Then, with a sledge and hammer,

I destroyed the wall

Embraced the world

For all that it is;

I faced the ugly truth

I lived with the harsh reality.

I learned to survive. 

I grew fierce and strong.

But years later, I started to rebuild it,

To protect me or them,

I couldn’t tell.

A voice in me started to warn 

” we will lose our friends”

But I continued to build it.

“We will be alone”

But I continued to build it.

“There is no going back”

And I continued to build it. 

“They won’t understand”

And I never stopped building it.

I never knew why

And it didn’t seem to matter. 

The voice never stopped

It just stopped believing itself. 

It didn’t have hope,

Just went through the motions.

My hands never stopped

It knew the ritual.

One brick after the other, 

That’s the way to livs.

And the wall seems to go on for forever

There is no limit

Not even the clouds will stop me

And my hands know no exertion

Week 5 – I’m Not the Kind of Girl

I’m not the kind of girl who sits by the phone waiting,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who hurts easily,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who gets lonely,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who takes things personally,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who cares about what others think,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who sits alone crying,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who breaks down,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who loves,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who cares,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who needs to be heard,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who needs love,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who needs attention,
but I do.
I’m not the kind of girl who is vulnerable,
but I am.
I’m not the kind of girl who is silly,
but I am.
I’m not the kind of girl who is breakable,
but I am.
I’m not the kind of girl who is sensitive,
but I am.
I’m not the kind of girl who is insecure,
but I am.
I’m not the kind of girl who is lost,
but I am.
I’m nothing like other girls…
but I am.


I’m not the kind of girl who asks for help,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind girl who expresses how she feels,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who demands attention,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who burdens others with her pain,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who shows vulnerability,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who lets down her guard,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who lets someone in,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who relies on others,
but I want to.
I’m not the kind of girl who acts all cute and feminine,
but I want to.
I don’t feel like other girls,
but I want to.


I hate being alone,

But I want to be.

Craving intimacy,

Just without the presence of any.

I don’t understand how I feel!

I don’t know what a want!

Alone or with people?

I want them both,

And I want neither.

Is there an option in between?

I am tired of how I feel,

Tired of being depressed.

Even my comfortable zone

Is no longer comfortable

Sentenced to a life of misery,

Too confused to find happiness.

It is not that the grass is greener on the other side,

It is that both sides are full of shit.

Now I am left with my island of solitude;

Trapped by my own self;

With no way out,

And no will to move.