"depersonalization" poems
dissociation a curse
dissociation my enemy
enemy barges in
enemy takes control
control is crippling
control must go
go seek advise
go to friends
friends may ignore
friends may listen
listen to god
listen to nothing
nothing is something
nothing is numbing
numbing craves alcohol
numbing craves drugs
drugs are prescribed
drugs will fix
fix my brain
fix cracked mirrors
mirrors taunt me
mirrors tell lies
lies i tell
lies cover bruise
bruise my hand
bruise my brother
brother is silent
brother please forgive
forgive me father
forgive me mother
father please help
father is futile
futile defines me
futile invites suicide
suicide with pills
suicide i survived
survived from coma
survived in hospital
hospital is helpful
hospital gives answers
answers for family
answers to problems
problems with doctors
problems with diagnosis
diagnosis is discovered
diagnosis is depersonalization
depersonalization creates poet
depresonalization becomes mad
mad
poet
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Hyperventilation
Depleting frustration
Suffocation
A painful sensation
Desperation
Without moderation
Devastation
Eternal damnation
Deprivation
Emotional mutilation
Derealization
Fear escalation
Depersonalization
Self extermination
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
Depersonalization
Derealization
Dissociation
Delusional
Hallucinations
Confabulation
Perseveration
persevered.
Clanging
Rhyming
Echolalia
echolalia.
Paranoia
Ideas of reference
Thought blocking
Internal stimuli
Thought broadcasting
heard
every way
every day.
Mental disorders
or
poets extraordinary
The Paiute anthropologist
locked up on the
inpatient unit
with visions of the ancestors
dancing in his eyes
said
"See these folks
you have locked up,
In ancient days
from the desert hills
they came our way
delivered truths
in their special way.
"Once they had their say
On desert winds
they blew back
up to their hills
away
straight away. "
"Can you please
give me the keys.
I've said what
I had to say. "
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
Imagine your eyes
as bluegreenhazelgrayamber
windows to actuality.
Now imagine your eyes
s lo w lllllllly
f
a
d
i
n
g
to
black.
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 5:50 PM UTC
Closely I observe myself from afar.
My world transforms into a perplexed dream.
Earth-toned hues shine brighter than any star.
Perception composes a wary theme.
Contorted tree limbs mock every movement.
Eyes become filled with cotton candy clouds.
Conversations are no longer fluent.
Alone I walk in a burial shroud.
I pinch my arm to make sure I’m not dead.
Numb is the only sensation I feel.
Broken shards of faith bear a tint of red.
The face in the mirror doesn’t look real.
Existence slowly crumbles into sand.
I’m a stranger who roams this foreign land.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
I am a humming bird with a broken wing forming a geometric fall.
I am a conjoined twin with a foot in heaven and one in hell.
I am a geyser spewing out echoes from a stonewall well.
I am an open road stretched for miles paved with a murderous smile.
I am a man with a firm handshake who stands still on top of an earthquake.
I am a visionary man who slipped on fate and fell in love.
I am a preliminary hearing fallen on deaf ears.
I am the contribution to your retribution.
I am a person of depersonalization.
I am a one man army minus one man.
I am the desired taste of orange juice and toothpaste.
I am concentrated concentration.
I am the formation of your imagination.
I am the comma for your introductory clause.
I am the cause for your sudden pause.
I am the spatula that stirs up your anxiety.
I am the reaper who never leaves a clue.
I am the lace that always chokes the shoe.
I am the light that finds its way thru helping the little shrew.
I am the suburban white boy who sings the blues.
I am consistent inconsistency.
I am your assigned tour guide for your expiration exploration.
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
Gravity is not my friend.
It forgets from time to time
To do its job and keep my two feet
Planted firmly on the ground.
I can’t seem to get around
Invisible stumbling blocks,
Tripping over my own two feet,
Knocking into things just by
Walking in a straight line.
Gravity is lazy,
Wanting only to do the bare minimum.
It makes my chest feel heavy when
I lay down but if I close my eyes
I feel my own untethered soul
Float up into the ceiling
And hide amongst the water pipes.
Sometimes, I think gravity gets scared
When I wish myself into something
Scattered brain and disconnected
Disassociation, depersonalization,
Derealization—these side effects on the bottle
They’re all taunting gravity
And gravity runs to hide,
Knocking me off balance and
Up the stairs and skinning my knees
And sometimes I don’t even know I’m bleeding
But sometimes gravity fights back
And my feet are stuck to the ground
My limbs can’t seem to move, my
Head feels like a hundred pounds
My body aches until I lay down
And sink into the carpet.
Sometimes I wonder if you feel it too
If gravity and you are on the odds as well
With all your liquid confidence
And substances to keep you happy
And your tales of falling down stairs—
You fall down, I fall up.
We bob together in a sea of regret
And change and past and
Present and future and lust
And hate but most of all love
Nursing our wounds through
Self medication until a very fed up gravity
Pushes us down, down down down.
Sometimes I think if gravity
Were a little more benevolent
We’d never have hit
These bumps in the road.
I could stay grounded,
Feet planted firmly.
You could stay buoyant
Far above the surface.
But no,
Gravity is a very fickle beast.
And as you’re leading me
Back to my room
For one last goodnight kiss
I trip
And float away.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
The flowers will bloom, when will this child inside me bloom?
The vines have thorns.
Will these thorns keep pricking me?
I can't even really feel them.
Will I heal?
This deflated heart is waiting to be pumped with your love for all the right reasons.
This ain't no treason.
The emptiness in between the walls.
Spaces between my teeth.
Can I just feel again?
Make me feel again.
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
You can taste
the psychosis on my
lips but there's no
guarantee that I will feel it.
There's an umbilical chord
holding me down to ***** reality
and depending on my
perspective
it either looks like a
dog leash or a
noose.
Inject a sedative with a rusty
needle at the end of my
nervous system. I'm immune; there's
misery mixed in with my
white blood cells that swallows
all sense of introspection. When my
soul plummets down like an anchor
and the floating stops
feeling safe, I welcome the chest
pains with open arms. The pins and
needles in my lungs are better
than burning them.
Look through my eyes
and sometimes nothing is real.
Live through my heart and
it hurts like hell when
I'm not drowning in air.
Think with my head and
either you will want to get out,
or it will kick you out.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
It's strange how through times of turmoil you discover who belongs in your life.
In that moment, you stop everything you're doing, just to let that one person know,
You love them.
They fight on, and live on, through the inner struggles in their heads,
Struggles some of us who are weaker, would not understand.
She said, "If this is the end, let it be beautiful."
So let it be beautiful,
Because she said so.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
Nobody ever speaks of
The sadness that can be felt
In your bones
The kind that can be
Encompassed
By your whole being
Nobody ever tells you
How to manage
Feeling like a stranger in your own body
Sometimes
I am a stranger to my own body
Depersonalization
Is a term that
I have come to know all too well
I have come to know
What it's like
To watch life happen
From a distance
To feel
Persistant and constant
Dissociation
Nobody ever told me
About the depression
That can take over your soul
While simultaneously
Forcing you
To watch it happen
Without any ability to stop it
Sometimes I feel as if
I can't feel anything at all
And that in itself
Is truly terrifying
But I am trying my hardest
To take hold of the steering wheel
I refuse
To let it take control
In the past I have
Locked all of the doors to myself
Thinking that
If I was the only inhabitant
Than nothing could get to me
But lately
I've realized
That letting people in
Will not be the downfall of myself
Lately
I've realized
That opening up
Is the key
To finding answers
Is the key
To finding help.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Mirror on my side.
Walls paper thin.
Empty shell on a bike.
Soulless soul count to ten.
Read my words
and hear my sorrow.
See as I have seen
into the depths of hell.
Serotonin flows within me once again
as I write this poem.
A soul filled soul
breaths once again.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
Do you know how ******* hard it is to have a disorder with no cure?
“It’s all in your head.”, because it’s so complex that doctors can prescribe anything for you, of course shock therapy isn’t a thing anymore.
I look down at my hands and think, “Is this real?” Of course it’s ******* real, stop being irrational.
But, why doesn’t it feel real?
I’ve been eating fine, sleeping ok, taking my medicine. Why do I feel as if my brain is not connected with my body?
Well, maybe it is. Maybe a part of me just isn’t here anymore.
I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel, off. I’m not me. I’m not anything. I can feel the oblivion in my veins. My sense of reality is gone, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
I can see what’s going on, and I do have control over my actions, but my thoughts are a jumble and some tastes, smells, etc don’t feel the same.
I miss myself.
I miss myself so badly.
Don’t get me wrong, clinical depression and such has kind of guided me towards self hatred, but I’d rather feel self hatred, than feel, this.
Feel everything at once, yet feeling nothing at all.
I’m reckless. I say what I want, do what I want, because nothing feels real.
I even dropped out of school, quit my job, all at 16 and I stay home trying to play video games to distract myself.
Distracting myself always seems to be the best solution. It holds me back from the temptation of just laying on my floor, crying and screaming, just wanting to feel normal. Feel whole.
I can sometimes have normal conversations. Sometimes. Very rarely unless it’s someone very close. Even family members I avoid speaking to in general.
Calen has been helping me, alot. Mostly distracting me. He understands my needs in general, and doesn’t insist on my spilling my emotions to him. He just supports me through it all. If I need to cry, if I need to laugh, he’ll be there.
He’s honestly the only person, well the only thing that has made me think twice.
Now, I’ve laid on the floor, screaming to the moon and to any higher power that might be out there to make me feel sane.
But Calen has seemed to be the only thing that makes me feel, real.
Like, continuing life is actually purposeful.
You could give me a list of things I could do with my life, and amazing things I could accomplish, but all I have to do is talk to him for 5 minutes, even if we talk about nothing of the sort, and I’ll feel the need to live another 24 hours.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
Strange face in mirror
Depersonalization
Succumb to numbness
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
My eyes only focus on surroundings, though you’re ten inches away
Looking into my eyes, I can’t focus.
My speech is fumbled. It takes forever. Can you see? Waiting. You’re looking at me as my body is filling with concrete.
My thoughts are unclear,
Hide the tenseness with laughter. It okay if there is laughter.
I can see myself where I want to be free.
I am wrapped in plastic, under my skin, tightening against my flesh.
I don’t feel my heartbeat,
I don’t feel myself breathing. I feel my joints, I feel myself reacting to connect. I will do anything to get out of this never ending emotional chamber.
I want to know you,
I know you are talking to me. I don’t know where my soul is. It feels trapped in my bloodstream, locked in my fingernails.
An apathetic wave hits my entire body, the undertow pulls me and I can only feel my ears filling with mumbled conversation.
Paralyzed by my imagination. My reality has pushed me out of my well being.
Two boxes of doughnuts and cake at the office. Deprived meaning
My thoughts are unclear,
Hide the tenseness with laughter, its how you’re free.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
How do you tell someone that they’re not real
Politely?
Quietly?
I don’t know what to do anymore
What if none of this really matters
What if we’re all going to be okay
Because I’m not real
And you’re not real
But how do you say that because we aren’t actually human
We’re just pretending
Because life is about the things that we don’t understand
We don’t see
But why can’t anyone tell me how to tell them I don’t experience
What I’m supposed to because
I’m not real
And you’re not real
And reality is just an illusion because we don’t really exist
And humans are just a concept
And life is just a fleeting idea in the mind of something we can’t even begin to understand
Because we’re not real
I’m not real
I don’t understand and I can’t see with all this dust around me
Dust kicked up by the thousands of feet
All copies of the same feet marching
Oh god we’re not real we all have the same feet look at your feet
How do I say this because we aren’t real so we can’t listen and we can’t hear
Is it polite to tell someone that their entire life is false?
Can it be done quietly?
We’re all going to be okay I swear to god
Because in a thousand other places we don’t exist
And in two thousand more we are okay already
So the odds say that we’re likely to be okay here
Because we’re already okay somewhere
I swear to god
But in the long run it probably doesn't matter anyway because there is no long run
Because I’m not real
I’m not real and I can’t see oh god there’s so much dust
All I can hear is the marching
I’m not real
I’m a thought in a bubble in a cloud in the dirt
I can’t be real because they told me reality wasn’t like this
But then when I hear you speak
Why do I hear humanity’s voice
When I read those words
Your words
Why can I feel the idea creeping politely
quietly
Into my mind that I might be a real person
Because this isn’t supposed to happen
Oh god, not to just a thought
Not to a mere figment
My feet are itchy
This isn’t supposed to happen
Not to a lie
Not to a lie like me
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Hyperventilation
Depleting Frustration
Suffocation
A Painful Sensation
Desperation
Without Moderation
Devastation
Eternal Damnation
Deprivation
Emotional Mutilation
Derealization
Fear Escalation
Depersonalization
Self Extermination
Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 7:34 PM UTC
They cut up her face
to spite who knows
She cut off some weight
despite her bones
She’s starved for grace
like a hungry ghost
Is it passion?
Is it addiction?
The way she suffers
so stranger than fiction
She’s waning away
just like the moon
It’s just the way
the darkness consumes
As they edit away
her absolute heart of the poem
Cut, copy paste
they stretched the truth
across her face
Now the disenchanted runway
calls her name
“Depersonalization"
Baby girl,
you were born
with it
Now you’ve
just been
manipulated!
The transformation
was a success
but you’re still sentient!
Screaming
"Being like everybody
is like being nobody
and this body
is no body
it’s a plastic prison"
built on a template
of all your false expectations
We need to
cut off the face
of the status quo
There’s nothing divine
left to her ratio
Knock the Goddess
from the pedestal
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 8:00 PM UTC
It's a bright new day,
There's dew on the grass,
The sun is shining,
A slight breeze rustles the leaves,
It's not too cold,
And not too warm,
One might say it is a perfect morning.
Yet why don't I feel it,
The joy and peace of nature,
Why do I,
Who has trained his soul,
Who knows his soul,
Who is one with his soul,
Only feel the darkness,
The sorrow and the loneliness,
The depression.
One might say there's something wrong with me,
Indeed, maybe there is, but would I know?
I would not,
Because all I see this day,
Or éveryday for that matter,
Is that you are not with me,
That you do not want to be,
And most painfully so,
Not for you, but for me.
You said,
"If I leave him now,
He will lose nothing."
But this could not be further from right.
Shall you leave me now,
I will lose you.
Which is to say,
I lose everything.
Please, come back.
You can make it,
This I know,
For I shall be your strength,
You needn't move one step.
I shall go to you,
Just hold on a couple more nights.
You needn't worry,
I will relieve you of
Ev'ry trouble.
We will be together,
We shan't say goodbye yet,
We will have our time,
And we will be happy.
For you have said you love me,
And I, even more, love you.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:00 AM UTC
part 1 (this)
**** this*
i say to myself
hoping the harsh words will strike me down
for i want to feel the cold pavement jar my bones
just
**** this*
i say out loud
hoping the sound of it will hook into the back of my sweater
and reel my mind up to join my body
i say it and turn round
to see if anyone has noticed my efforts
and yet
i still feel the same
shock me
please change me
please bring me back
find the strings that connect my soul to my body
and tug
pull
bring me down from the cold blue sky
because
****
i want to know
if i'm happy or not
part 2 (search)
and so i searched space
space bar
enter
an easier world
and i looked for myself amid the definitions
and questions
and stars
and i tested myself
without thinking
answers automatic
yes i know what's happening
and this is how i feel
but almost
not quite
and now i have a diagnosis
i have ten
one for each time i tried to define it
letting someone else do the job
and yet
i can't seem to label myself
and the screen lights my face
but not my heart
no
i have not yet been found
so i tap out the pattern
of how i think i would feel
if i felt
on the keys and i press enter
enter space
space bar
search
where am i
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
they call it depersonalization
dee-person-nile-zaytion
and it means i did the impossible:
found the switch to turn
everything off
so i can do what feels good
and stay away from what feels bad
and never have any real feelings
about any of it
at all.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 5:00 AM UTC
Sitting on this wooden floor,
Suffering from depersonalization.
Glaring at the forbidden door,
Struggling with the mind’s creation.
It’s harder than you think,
Tuning out silent clamor.
Resting beside me it winks,
That ruthless, steel sledge-hammer.
He begs for me to make a move,
I’m pasted to the ground.
As long as I sit, he won’t approve,
And I will take the cowards crown.
I think for a long time
About my situation
Life is leaving me behind
I must move on, despite my frustration
A change in the air shifts understanding,
As clammy hands wrap around the handle.
Like boiling pasta calmly expanding,
Legs extend, and reunite with sandals.
I walk to the door with newfound sass,
With the hammer, no longer perplexed.
As I look upon it, it’s made of glass,
Guess what I did next.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
Money cannot buy happiness
My mother
Has a collection of jewelry
Diamonds are her favorite
Hers are pure and glimmering
She wears them on her hands
And over her heart
She has a collection
Of shiny things
They all sit pretty on her body
Glowing against her tan skin
But their worth is still not enough
To cure her instability
Or ease the anxiety that never leaves
She has all of these beautiful things
But still relies on antidepressants and nicotine
To make it through the day
And even after that
She is still not content
Money does not buy happiness
My father
Has a love for cars
He has spent his earnings
On greatly crafted vehicles
They are kept well and clean
They glisten
Shining almost as bright
As my mother's diamonds
They are fast
And smooth
Like his collection of fine liquor
All of the bottles lined up neatly
15 year, 18 year, 20
All of them rich in age
He has a lot of nice things
But at the end of the day
Still requires multiple glasses of whiskey
To wash out the bitterness of life
And the memories
Of how close he came to losing it
He has all of these cars
That take him from place to place
But it is still he
Who has to drag himself out of bed
Each morning to face the world
And even then
He is still not at ease
Money cannot buy happiness
Celebrities
Have lives that most would envy
But even they can be consumed by darkness
And fall victim to their own sadness
Money cannot buy happiness
The man who lives next door
Has a beautiful house
And a lot of things
To fill it
His home is never empty
But I can tell that he is
His eyes give it away
Money cannot buy happiness
I have
So much to be thankful for
I am provided
With more than one could ever need
And my level of privilege is beyond doubt
But most days
I struggle to make it through this one
And on to the next
It is always a never ending battle
Between me and myself
Between my mind and my sanity
Most nights
I fall asleep to a mix of ambien and panic
Having to **** my thoughts
With substance
I am overwhelmed
By constant fear
By frequent depersonalization and depression
Often feeling sad and then guilty
Because I have everything
I could ever ask for
But I am still not happy
These material things
Are not enough
To fill the gaping hole expanding within me
And there is a lot
That money can buy
But happiness
Is not one of them.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
I experience crippling anxiety
The people who feel high
Think it's easy to be high
Because they are high
And say to the low
To be high
But once I'm entangled
By the breathless thoughts
I am unable
To function
Depersonalization
Is crippling
And temporarily devolves me
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC