Mom, can you come get me?
I’m so lonely and the people who I thought loved me seem to be leaving
I think I’m overreacting.
No, I’m definitely overreacting.
Nobody actually cares but somebody brought me coffee today and it balanced out the tanginess of the salt sitting on my tongue
I don’t know how to fix what’s wrong
I don’t want to think anymore
I don’t know how to make my brain stop being mean
I don’t I don’t I don’t
I
STOP
. . .
Plato may disagree, but I love poetry. I love how different pieces can make a person feel other emotions, sometimes all in one rush. It can be an expression of thought and depth, or be comical and make someone laugh. Technically, there are rules to writing poetry (as my dear English professors read the above in horror), but I use it to process overwhelming emotions and what I like to call "unkind brain thoughts." To remind myself that I am, in fact, human and that I'm allowed to make mistakes.
I wrote this one over the summer when the days became long, and the work shifts never seemed to end. The monotony of the same routine day in and day out, coupled with my being reasonably alone most of the time, began to take a toll on my mental health. From what I can recall, a close friend brought me coffee after I texted her about my second breakdown that day, hence line 5. Those who know me know my tendency to overthink until I send myself into a spiral. Readers may be happy to know that I am doing better than I was a year ago, but there are still the bad days when my brain can't seem to shut off.
Usually, when I write poetry (or prose, whatever you deem fit to call it), it represents what my thoughts can look like in a single moment. The syntax, or sentence structure, is made to look like different thoughts coming like lightning bolts and tripping on the ends of each other. This is shown through the lack of punctuation halfway through the poem, further emphasized by the repetition of the words "I don't." Not only does this exhibit the unkind brain thoughts coming at a faster and faster pace, but it also represents how I view my capabilities. More often than not, I'm gripped by fear whenever I attempt something new. It's the whole "I don't have what it takes to be successful in this situation." Entirely untrue, by the way. For anyone, not just me.
Some of this piece shows how both good and bad thoughts can be dichotomous or juxtaposed, side by side. Lines 5-6 are an example of this. They verbally manifest what my brain believes versus what is true. "I believe that nobody cares, but someone is showing me that they do, so these thoughts are, in fact, incorrect." I attempted to portray the helplessness one can experience in these moments and the mental fatigue. This can be seen as the poem's pace picks up towards the end until the last line ("STOP"), and suddenly, there's nothing but silence, which, at times, can be just as scary.
Ultimately, poetry is a personal reminder that my emotions, feelings, and thoughts are valid and to give myself grace when I think they’re not. I am a human being with flaws and insecurities. I am more than my thoughts and go beyond my feelings. Poetry helps me to process through these messy situations. Plato, a philosopher who hated the arts, can take a hike.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.