Imagining Heaven

Someone asked me the other day,
what depression felt like, and I knew the way he
was asking, he meant, what it felt like for me.

“It varies,” I said, starting carefully,
because if you start carefully, you might
continue carefully, and end very carefully,
having avoided all the pitfalls there are in
casual conversation, and potholes in your memory,
about not at all casual topics

“Mostly, it feels like stagnation. A restless stillness. Moving to nowhere and nowhere to move. But some nights it gets…worse, sure. You learn to sit with those (vicious) thoughts. They visit like unanticipated guests sometimes, but in a strange way, haha, they are… familiar. You even (I even) start to miss them after a while if they don’t come around to say hi (whatever it is that they say), the demons, the monsters…because when they’re not there, there’s just the endless fog of no imaginable future. You’re catholic, right? haha, it’s purgatory. So I guess that’s what heaven is: imagining a future. Imagining anything. Imagining hope – just hope.”

This entry was posted in Mental Health, poetry, Thoughts on Life and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Imagining Heaven

  1. Pingback: Reflections | Kshyama's Attic

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