defineemily

[defineemily]

I wish to see forward

and ache for what will be,

instead of what was.

To be reminded of sand between toes,

and salty hair.

Firefly skies above

moontipped sunflowers.

Rocky paths

wet with mountain rain,

his hand in mine around every turn;

the laughter in his heart

lighting his eyes.

And I am free to move,

to run without pain,

and I don't want to sleep away days

else miss a second.

Why am I lost

in looking back

when the future sits here

begging for me to see it?

-D.E.

[defineemily]

-D.E.

[defineemily]

Missing tangled roots and quiet walks to nowhere.

-D.E.

[defineemily]

Waiting is always hard. Mom says I have the patience of bull seeing red but I dunno what that means. I think maybe she says it 'cuz I run around a lot, like bulls do. I get all wiggly when I gotta stand still. Sometimes I even jump in place when that happens. Right now, I'm swinging my feet to keep the itchiness away. I like how my whole body jumps up and down when I do it.

I was waiting for Stuart and William, the boys down the road. I was always waitin for them, cuz I get so excited when I know we're gonna play, I run the whole way there, down my big dirt driveway, across the firehouse lawn, and into their backyard. I like to sit in a big, sad looking tree who's leaves droop. I like to keep it company. One time someone said was weeping, and ever since then, I try to listen for it's cries.

I hear the boys coming though, their soft voices and laughs easy to recognize when it's so quiet. The bridge underneath me, the one the tree sat beside, sighed once they got on it. It was real old.

"Emily!" They found me right away, knowing my spot. Stuart grinned at me. He already had his big teeth. I tried not to think about the racing in my heart from his smile.

William stood a full head and shoulders higher than me, which I dunno if that's big, I'm pretty small. He looked at me and real quiet said, "are you ready?"

I nodded and all three of us started running. We had to hurry since it was already dark.

Once we crossed the street, we ran through George's yard, the old man who sometimes would give us candies.

I always threw mine away because they were gross. And brown. What kinda candy is brown if it's not chocolate? It always felt like a trick.

I'd lagged behind in thinking about candy, my little legs not fast enough to keep up with the boys.

"Hurry up, Emily or we'll miss it!" I squinted and tried to go faster. They were hard to see in the dark.

I didn't want to say it, but I was afraid of it, if no one was near. I seemed like the bushes and trees around me moved, and reached out when I was alone. Everything looked like a face or a scary monster. William would probably laugh at me if I said it. That's what my brother did.

I tried to only pay attention to my bare feet on the grass, and the sounds of the crickets singing. I liked those things.

It stings when I breathe, I realized, and I tried to tell them to stop. I didn't have any air to make the sound with.

But I didn't need to. Stuart was waiting. He always waited for me. Especially tonight. This was all his idea. My heart jumped a little when I remembered that. I started to walk once I got to him, and he made sure his steps were the same as mine.

Sometimes I wondered if he liked me too. I asked him once and he just said, "you're my best friend, of course I like you."

And it was weird. Right now it felt like I was breaking a rule, just walking here with him at night. My aunt had said it was okay to go play, but I normally went to bed when it was dark. So it still felt like a secret mission. Or a lie.

"Are you daydreaming again? Or wait, it's night so I guess it's just dreaming." Stuart giggled as he looked at me.

The dark hid my blush.

"Yeah. We were both knights and... William was a cowboy and we were riding on horses through the woods." I lied. I was good at lies.

He laughed. "That sounds cool! Let's pretend we're riding horses the rest of the way!"

So we galloped, one foot in front of the other, for what seemed like forever, until we got to Sharon's house. She wasn't outside but she's real old. She told us we could play in her yard tonight though. Stuart said it was really fun to play here, especially at night.

William was waiting  for us around back.

"Are they here?" Stuart asked him. William shook his head yes, then ran off, smiling slightly. Stuart shouted, blue eyes all twinkly, knowing it meant a game of tag.

I followed them into the tallest flowers I'd every seen. They looked like big spikey mouths filled with brown teeth, and yellow petals all around, reaching to the sky in hunger. More flowers came into view, and more, and more, until we were surrounded and everywhere was a hiding place.

"Come find me!" I heard William call. Someone grabbed my hand through the giant stems. Stuart. "Wait." He said, and pointed up, to a clear, black sky, filled with more stars than I knew existed.

"So many..." I gasped. Then he pulled my hand, turning me towards a clearing I didn't see before.

The flowers fell away and there was so much grass, taller than me, swaying in the summer breath, and dancing above it were lights. So many lights. All of them were moving constantly, and very fast, taking turns being lit. They moved around like me trying  to be patient, back and forth, never in the same place.

"Fireflies," Stuart whispered, "aren't they pretty?"

I didn't know the right word for it. It wasn't pretty, is was more than that. It was something I knew I'd never forget. It was like I'd made up a story, and here it was, right in front of me. It was like my daydreams.

"Are you still scared?" Stuart knew I didn't like the dark. I'd told him yesterday, in his grandma's attic after I almost cried trying to follow him to the back where there were no lights. He said he knew how to make me like the dark, and he'd show me tomorrow night. Tonight. Right now.

And somehow, I wasn't scared here. Of anything. With the flowers like the sun, the sparkling sky, and dancing lights, I couldn't be scared.

And I smiled.

And then we ran.

-D.E.

[defineemily]

Why has happiness

become laughter in another room

while I'm chained to somewhere not there

suspicious and yearning in the same breath

wishing to be within it

yet doubting its intentions

Why are my roots entwined in the past

shadows threatening to reel me back

ripping apart anything I build

I am suffocating within my skin

every way out scabbed over

or sewn shut

Why do I cling to this concept

that I cannot be anything more

than this emptiness

-D.E.

[defineemily]

Perhaps my best

is lost somewhere

in my childhood

knees to chest

abandonment ringing in her ears

-D.E.

[defineemily]

When love passes,

all of the pieces of your life

that were entwined within it

feel as though they might fade away

at any moment.

[defineemily]

It's crazy how many tiny interactions you can have with people in a day. I generally don't think much beyond them, and don't read into the small nothings people say to fill awkward silences, or things said in passing, without much thought. I take them for what they are, and leave them there.

However, it was brought to my attention that some of these things, often uttered by people I see more frequently, or who know me to a degree, should be things people think about before they say. In thinking about it myself, although not at all upset, I suppose I agree.

Just to preface some of these statements, I understand that when interacting with someone, there is a certain pressure to say something, to remember something about the other person and ask about it, or to just acknowledge them in some way. It has become what it means to be thoughtful and polite in conversation. It can be difficult, and this I very much understand.

It is important to remember though, people are different, and things can change.  Asking one day how someone's mother is could be absolutely fine, and then another, it could be a gateway to a conversation you weren't ready for.

I am often asked about my health and how I am feeling. This is because I have chronic pain, and several other complications. I generally try not to wear it on my sleeve or complain, but people talk, and so,  inquiring about it is how people start conversations with me.

Some days, I avoid it altogether. "Oh, I'm fine." Others, I make a joke to lighten a heavy mood, and still others, I'll be honest. "Ah, I'm in a bit of pain today. It is what it is." I usually prefer not to talk about it as my health and it's irritations are my everyday. I don't like to be reminded of them in interactions with people.

Often times, people's response is offering medical advice; suggesting things they think will help, telling me how to be better, etc. I'm sure it's meant with the best intentions, but it isn't usually welcome. It wasn't a conversation I started, and it wasn't a question I asked.

I would so much rather have people say things like, "you do so well coping", or "I hope you find some things that help", or even "I don't really understand what that's like, and I'm sorry that you have to".

We really don't have to talk about it, and I'd much rather talk about happy things, even if it's something you might think is silly. Those things are so much more important to me than being asked how I feel physically.

The other is a fairly popular question; when are you going to have kids? I am not the only person to experience this, I know. It seems like an innocent enough question, as I'm married, and for many couples, it's the next step for them.

But.... what if I wanted to have kids, and couldn't? What if we tried and lost one, but weren't ready to share that? Or even, what if we are trying already, but aren't ready to tell people?

As it stands for me, the answer I offer is usually just, "not right now, maybe in the future". I've had many people respond to that with something like, "I hope your parents don't have to wait too long for grandkids!" Or my favorite, "I didn't want kids either, but you'll see, once you get older, you'll change your mind". Oof.

The reality is, physically I'm not capable of a lot, and there are things about my health that would complicate the pregnancy. I also feel as if I don't want to raise a child in the world's present circumstances.

I don't feel like defending my choices, however, and so I tend to laugh off the uncomfortable responses, or just offer, "yeah, we'll see!"

Sometimes these questions make me feel as if I'm letting people down. My husband, my family. I often struggle with feeling betrayed by my body, and work very hard to find things to love about it.

Being reminded of my limitations and other people's possible opinions of them can be a less than positive experience.

Maybe if I explained myself further to people, maybe I'd have to have these conversations less, or maybe not. Some people just won't ever stop asking, as these big topics are all they're interested in.

I suppose the point I hope to make is; when you're talking with someone, and you aren't sure what to say, sometimes it's better to start small, and see where the conversation goes, rather than ask about potentially controversial or upsetting things you may not have wanted to really hear about, or even don't know how to respond to.

We all have opinions, and triggers, and struggles. Being polite, and showing compassion is finding a way to accept that these things exist in others... and giving someone the space to decide if they'd like to share.

[defineemily]

[defineemily]

I made myself small because I knew I'd never be big enough to matter. Squished and crammed into this corner of isolation because no matter how I grew, I never rose above. It was less disappointing to hide and be forgotten, than to be on display and ignored.

[defineemily]

Control C

I sometimes feel

I have erased so much of myself

replaced so many parts

there is nothing original left

only copies

poor imitations

of something alive

and substantial

[defineemily]

It’s a ritual of sorts his arms around me trying to hold me here my whispering heartbeat growing stronger against his lips brushing tangled pieces trailing salt behind and growing warmth a reminder of his ever present plea not tonight don't die tonight just one more day

Prompt#661

Don’t die tonight.

[defineemily]

...

I'm uninspired misusing words and stuttering contentment or boredom the symptoms fit a stifling blankness pressing ever closer do I struggle? do I clutch the prose I know and let metamorphosis pass me by?

[defineemily]

He’s either frustrated with her or trying to fix her. There’s never an in between when he’s happy with who she is.

[defineemily]

You Are More Than This

Finding the words to explain depression to someone who only feels it as an emotion is not an easy task. You’re sad, they think. We all get sad sometimes. We all pick ourselves up. Happiness is a choice you make. 

Sometimes, on days when I’m less sure of myself, it’s easy to believe that. It’s easy to blame myself for the hurt inside, thinking I’ve done something wrong to deserve it. I made a bad choice along the way and allowed myself to be this way; weighed down and exhausted by the smallest things. 

Sometimes I realize it’s not my fault. The choice was made for me. A genetic malfunction I never asked for or anticipated. It will never go away, no matter how many things go right, or how many people I have to love me. 

In my experience, you do have choices to make. It is not simply a choice of happy or sad, positive or negative. The choices are smaller, but result in something much larger. 

For the longest time, I didn’t tell anyone about how I felt. My parents, my friends, they never knew I spent so much of my days wishing I was dead. Wishing the pain would stop, and planning how to end it. The pills in my medicine cabinet. The razor in my shower. A crash into a tree on the way home. I let myself be alone with the pain, because I believed no one would care or understand. 

This is the first, most important choice; Tell someone. Don’t be discouraged if they don’t understand. Don’t stop saying it because you don’t feel heard. Don’t give up on yourself because you feel others have. 

Letting yourself be alone with the pain allows you to be consumed by it. It is all there is. You take steps down a path that starts with I don’t matter, and ends with believing if you’re gone, it would be better. 

This is the second choice. Believe you are loved. Believe that if you were to leave, not just one hole would exist in your place, but many. Pieces of hearts gouged out, torn apart, shredded, because you left. This is the hardest part because being free of the pain would, without a doubt, be easier. For you. Only you. Not them. Not the people who believe in you, hope for you, trust in you, few as you may think they are. One person missing you is worth staying. I promise.

The third choice also has a difficulty I won’t downplay. Love yourself. The immediate reaction is, ‘I can’t’, I know. But you can. It’s a long road and there will be days when you don’t like yourself at all. That part will never stop. It starts small; seeing things about yourself that aren’t the worst. As you move on, it becomes things you like about you, things you want other people to notice because they are the best parts of you. Eventually, you’ll be able to acknowledge your flaws without feeling you are worthless. You’ll accept them. They are part of what makes you, you. 

As you make these choices, and there are many more of them than just these 3, you’ll become aware that there is more to you than your depression. It doesn’t have to define you. It doesn’t have to run, or ruin, your life. 

That being said, I know each story is different. I know everyone's struggle is their own, and I cannot generalize why you hurt and how to overcome it. I’m not a doctor, or even an accomplished adult. I’ve lived for only 26 years and don’t know what it’s like to suffer many of the things that trigger this darkness inside us. I don’t know what it’s like for you. 

I had the words circling my mind, stabbing at my heart, and I had to say them. I had to write them. I wanted to say it’s possible to survive it. You can live.  

[defineemily]

This is all I know now alone and reaching out only when I remember

[defineemily]

I pluck knowledge from the air and clutch it within me to fill the spaces of things lost. My fingers trace these black and white keys because I lost you, and this newly learned music sits in the place where yours used to be; just south of the center of my heart.