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Tag Archives: Too Much Thinking
“How can you still be alive?” – Dethklok
I am writing my memoir, in earnest now, as I tentatively started to about twenty years ago. It’s a long, slow, grueling process, lurching forward in sporadic, drunken spurts. I am, as of this typing, 25k words into it. My … Continue reading
“Been here before / though there’s something in the air this time…”
I don’t know if your high school experience was like mine, but I often felt unloved, misunderstood, and alien to those around me. I felt like some anomaly in the halls. I wasn’t conventionally attractive, not particularly sharp or acute, … Continue reading
Riding the Dragon
Posted in Depression
Tagged death, life, major depression, mental-health, Too Much Thinking
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“Years have proved / to offer nothing since you’ve moved”
Wherein I consider the honesty and pragmatic nature of depression… Continue reading
Posted in Depression
Tagged major depression, mental-health, Politics, Too Much Thinking
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“I’m joining the circus/I’m running away/The people I won’t know/The places I won’t stay”
“Everything has changed… Absolutely nothing’s changed.” I sometimes wonder how others measure their lives. Many become parents and measure through their children, some use a corporate ladder as their meter stick, some stack accolades. I don’t know. I like words. … Continue reading
“and ask many questions like children often do…”
Sometimes I am taken aback by my childishness. I know where my arrested development comes from; I can chart it, understand it, explain it to others, recover from the shortcomings it propagates within me and my behavior. I know it … Continue reading
“She said she liked the way I felt / and breaking down my boundaries…”
Wherein I say the unthinkable but ask us to think about it… Continue reading
Posted in Depression, Uncategorized
Tagged death, Dreams, major depression, Sadness, Too Much Thinking
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“Seaside and down on the wayside”
My dreams are volatile, the skin I’m in screaming for claws. I’ve been acutely aware of my femoral artery lately; it undulates in my body when the world slows down, singing to my fingernails, nearby blades, shards of porcelain. Inside … Continue reading
“Well, me, it’s nice talking to myself / a credit to dementia”
Wherein I meet the man charged with keeping me sane… Continue reading
“Swallow whole / lose myself in you”
Wherein I start talking about my depression and then get all self-entitled-ish, which as much as I appreciate, I honestly never thought I’d be a proponet of… Continue reading
Posted in Decentness
Tagged Angry, Buddhism, death, family, isolation, life, loss, love, major depression, music is my drug, physical symptoms of depression, Sadness, separation, The Blind, Too Much Thinking
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Eric McClanahan 