Tuesday, August 16, 2011

A Very Personal Poem About The Darkest Times That Come With Bipolar Disorder And Depression

Escaping The Jungle
By Mark Vasey
 I sat on a bed that was hard as rock,
And so was my heart,
Numbed out by the near deadly seven,
Overmedicated and sedated,
I wished and prayed to go to sleep,
I wished and prayed for heaven,
I knew I was meant for hell,
This was meant to be,
The feelings turned black,
No, they had been beyond black for months,
I had planned to do it the month earlier,
But I couldn’t go through with it,
So there I sat pondering,
The Ambien didn’t work,
I just hurt and knew that sixty years later I didn’t want to be here,
Damn, I didn’t want to be here six hours later,
Tomorrow I would still be filled with sorrow,
And if I rose I would be destined to fall,
The cycles would never stop like the waves of the ocean,
Putting the bottle to my mouth made me tremble,
The hardest decision I’ve ever made,
Poor them down,
Emptied the bottle of Klonopin,
I sat and waited hating my life but also fearing what I had done,
scared of the end,
I picked up my phone and called home,
I made the fateful decision to live waking my grandma up,
We got in the car,
I got out at the hospital and then it all went black.
I woke up in a mental hospital,
The nurse said my pulse had been low,
How long did I sleep?
I do not know,
I took a shower discovering metal covered patches attached to my torso,
Pulling them off one by one like leaches,
I met a Vietnam vet and I decided to sew my life back together,
I swear it will never happen again, but sometimes I still fall from a helicopter back into that jungle.

1 comment:

  1. What a wonderful poem there Mark! Keep up the good work and Godspeed!

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