Overwhelmed

I had a dream where I was doing spoken word in a bar, I think. I can’t remember the full poem that I said but the last lines went:

I am one girl

pretending to be many

I have no idea where that came from. I don’t think I read that somewhere. But it’s so true. I often changed my personality to fit in with certain groups of people when I was in high school. I was obsessed with finding my “click.” But no matter how hard I tried I felt like I could never fit in. That was probably depression. Making me feel like I don’t belong anywhere.

 

This dream got me thinking about making spoken word videos. I’ve been thinking about making a YouTube channel for years now but I keep changing what type of content I want to create. But now since I’m writing a book of poetry I feel like making a channel for spoken word seems to be a great way to build an audience.

If I do make a YouYube channel I would probably also make a Patreon because I’m literally a starving artist. But I will have to learn how to use Patreon and YouTube and together on top of learning how to self-publish and write better poetry. That’s a lot of learning I have to do.

This is probably my anxiety speaking but I’m starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the things I have to learn. And I feel like I’m all alone here. I don’t know how to reach out to other people for help. I feel like I’m trying to do too much at the same time and I don’t know what to focus on first.

Natty

I adopted this facade

just so I can get a job

just so I can keep a job

 

making up a crafty excuse

just so I can cut loose

from this daily abuse

I don’t want to be here anymore

please just let me walk out that door

this is such a bore

this is such a chore

I can’t do this anymore

I tore

this natty suit and left it on the floor

I danced out the door

this life isn’t for me anyway

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Natty

Organizing My Poetry – Update on The Fog

I didn’t think this was going to be so difficult. I thought I knew exactly where I wanted every poem to be. But after reading and rereading my poetry I’m not sure anymore. I’m over thinking it, no surprise there. But this is my first collection and I want it to be perfect. I don’t know what story I want to tell or how to start or finish it. I just have a theme. Depression, how it feels, how I deal, and how I try to explain it.

I was thinking about starting from childhood. Poetry about the strong little girl I use to be and how I miss her. But I haven’t written poetry about that nor do I know how. It might come to me after some deep thinking and research. I might have to ask my parents about who I use to be. I was thinking of following that with my rape and how that may have been the beginning of my depression. I feel like I was forced to grow up pretty fast and my childhood hasn’t been the same since it happened. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone and it just kept happening and I kept thinking about it. Then I stopped thinking about it. Trying to ignore it. Trying to erase it from my memories forever. It worked for a while. Until it happened again when I got older. And again with someone I thought could trust.

I feel like I was forced to grow up pretty fast and my childhood hasn’t been the same since it happened. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone and it just kept happening and I kept thinking about it. Then I stopped thinking about it. Trying to ignore it. Trying to erase it from my memories forever. It worked for a while. Until it happened again when I got older. And again with someone I thought could trust.

Then maybe I’ll follow that with the little girl I use to be, imprisoned in the fog. And how I didn’t try to set her free. Because sometimes I feel like I didn’t try hard enough to free myself before it got bad. I feel like I did this to myself. If I had just talked to my parents instead of letting it brew in my head and heard for so long. I would be more successful. Right? I’ll never really know of course.

I think I like this direction. And all I needed was to type it out. I guess now I should write another 15-30 small noticings and try to build poems from those.

Stay tuned for more updates on The Fog!

Making Progress

I am learning so much about self-publishing and I haven’t spent a dime. I’m so proud of myself for making so much progress the past week. It has been a tough few months for me since I lost my job. I stopped going out, stopped applying for jobs, survived basically off tea and junk food. The fog was so heavy I thought it would never let up. But here I sit typing away and enjoying my day.

Since I have surpassed 30 followers on this blog I will be updating you all on my progress of The Fog – A Collection of Poetry About My Depression. I have already posted some of the poetry I’ll put in the collection but of course I won’t post everything. I will be self-publishing it under the pen name Aurea Fae instead of Tentai Furea. It’s a long story. I might tell in in another post. Also, I’ll be publishing this and possible future collections under the Fictitious Business Name A Light in the Dark.

There is still much for me to learn about being a writer and self-published author. But for once in my life, I don’t feel discouraged at this task. I’m actually enjoying the journey.

Alive v2

I use to say

All I want to be

Is happy

All I want to be

Is free

But now

I see

That was

Naive

Of me

Now I see

I will not

Always be

Happy

Or free

I will continue to fight with my mind

day in and day out I will get few breaks

where I am free to be me but I will forever

be lost to who I even is

But that’s ok

Because I

Will be

Alive

The Fog – A Poetry Collection

I took a class on Skillshare on how to write poetry and it was very inspiring. So much so that every time I rewatch it, a poem flows from my fingers like water. They come so naturally now I really don’t have to think that hard. I was originally going to write a collection of poetry about finding purpose in my life for my project. But what flowed out of me was poetry about my depression. How it feels and how I try to explain it.

I bought small journal specifically to plan out my book of poems with the notes I took from that Skillshare class. I think this the first time I bought a journal and started using it with a purpose from day one. That’s an achievement. I’m addicted to buying journals. I see a beautiful journal and I have to have it. Anyway, the class told me to write down 15 “small noticings” about my topic and what came out kind of surprised me:

  • Some days are easier than others.
  • It feels like I have weights on my limbs.
  • A fog that refuses to let me appreciate the beauty of life.
  • My bed is like a magnet.
  • Very rarely I feel like crying but when I do it’s overwhelming and I try too hard “stay strong.”
  • I’ve gotten so used to pretending I don’t know how to express my real feelings anymore.
  • I may look okay when you see me but most of the time I feel empty inside.
  • My smiles are often fake, my laughter is usually hollow
  • I hear the same advice and I try to follow it but half the time I’m too tired and the fog wins.
  • It’s a mental battle that leaves me physically exhausted.
  • Motivation is hard to hold on to. It’s like a butterfly, beautiful but flutters on leaving you behind.
  • Sometimes I feel like my depression isn’t valid.
  • It steals my energy, my confidence, my motivation. But I will not let it take my creativity or life.
  • It took a long time for me to accept myself and believe that I am beautiful and talented. I still have doubts about my talents.
  • Sometimes my thoughts scare me.

I have never thought very seriously about suicide but the very thought of suicide scares me. I know I would never do it. I’m too scared but sometimes I feel like one day my thoughts will win and I won’t care anymore. That’s actually my biggest fear. My mind running away taking my sanity with it. I’ve even had quite a few nightmares about that. I can’t imagine putting my loved ones through so much stress.

And sometimes I really do feel like my depression isn’t valid. I have a roof over my head, a bed, friends, family and an amazing boyfriend. And there are starving, dying children, veterans sleeping on the streets, families breaking up. I feel so selfish at times. And I want to help everyone but I never know how. I’m so empathetic it might get me in trouble one day.

I’m just shocked at how honest I was in just 5-10 minutes. I don’t want this post to get too long. So I’m going back to learning how to self-publish.