‘I feel heavy with the weight of being alive.’ Woof! Also the way you give grief and depression bodies and behaviors- to me- reminds me of the depersonalization that I experience, and I connect to that a lot. It’s like the feelings and reality of it all are too big that it’s gravity pulls the fog of emotion into a condensed, solidified shape and identity. Like a psychological black hole. Beautiful read. Thank you for sharing.
I've continued your essay with this: "And maybe I'll go back to him, wake up in his lap as the gnats fly around our faces in that putrid chair. I sure know how to pick them. And as the tears he caused roll down my cheeks onto the linoleum floor I wrote about in one of my odes to him, I'll finally feel a release, or break, from this toxic relationship
I have always been irritated by poetry but I’m beginning to understand that the assumption of understanding is some of the problem. Poetry isn’t just a puzzle I have to put together, it’s use itself is the ambiguity to describe things that hit us ambitiously. Huh
Understanding we can not understand eachother has confronted me many times in my life. The chronic need to BE understood, then becomes less. I can not give what I desire, either. I can not grasp someone else's suffering.
The way you write on your relationship, on your marriage, is something for me to heavily ponder on. This essay, like every other, will take me many more rereads.
listening and reading this essay is an experience. the way you personify depression resonated with me in a way i'm not ready to read into. you write so beautifully. it's like you put into words an idea i've been playing around with for years, trying to explain my grief and pain to people who just won't get it because it's such a personal experience. thank you for sharing.
‘I feel heavy with the weight of being alive.’ Woof! Also the way you give grief and depression bodies and behaviors- to me- reminds me of the depersonalization that I experience, and I connect to that a lot. It’s like the feelings and reality of it all are too big that it’s gravity pulls the fog of emotion into a condensed, solidified shape and identity. Like a psychological black hole. Beautiful read. Thank you for sharing.
I think it's beautiful to have people who are amazingly talented in different ways around me
I've continued your essay with this: "And maybe I'll go back to him, wake up in his lap as the gnats fly around our faces in that putrid chair. I sure know how to pick them. And as the tears he caused roll down my cheeks onto the linoleum floor I wrote about in one of my odes to him, I'll finally feel a release, or break, from this toxic relationship
where can I read the essays?
I have always been irritated by poetry but I’m beginning to understand that the assumption of understanding is some of the problem. Poetry isn’t just a puzzle I have to put together, it’s use itself is the ambiguity to describe things that hit us ambitiously. Huh
Understanding we can not understand eachother has confronted me many times in my life. The chronic need to BE understood, then becomes less. I can not give what I desire, either. I can not grasp someone else's suffering.
The way you write on your relationship, on your marriage, is something for me to heavily ponder on. This essay, like every other, will take me many more rereads.
Khair inshallah,
Saeida
listening and reading this essay is an experience. the way you personify depression resonated with me in a way i'm not ready to read into. you write so beautifully. it's like you put into words an idea i've been playing around with for years, trying to explain my grief and pain to people who just won't get it because it's such a personal experience. thank you for sharing.