Underneath the Sycamore

I feel like my
relationship with
everything in the universe
is extremely tense 
in this moment.


So I will mind my own
business in the corner,
baking muffins
and staying quiet.


I feel as though
nobody is getting it.


Sometimes I'm 
depressed.
Funny, right?
What with the
actual depression
and anxiety.


Sometimes I need
to leave.
Sometimes I need
to be quiet
and not see anybody
or talk to anyone.


And weirdly, 
this doesn't go away.
I'm not really who I 
was five months ago.
I don't know if I will
ever be that person again.
I miss her though.
She was alright.


I'm still getting my bearings
in the new shifting winds
and waves.
I'm usually not ok.
I'm learning to live with it.
I don't know what else to do.


It's as though
I'm on hold.
Like I'm waiting to
get my life back.


But I honestly can't remember
my life.


I can't remember 
the past four months.
I cannot pick out details.
I cannot pick out good things.


I have lost all of my sense
of time.


I don't understand it,
and it scares me
that I don't remember
things. My life. 


And if it's annoying
or if you can't handle me,
I get it.
But it's not going to change.


And if you don't want to
talk about it,
I get it.


But I'm still here.


I'm a little different.
Perhaps a little less of 
the "me" you know
(or knew), but please
don't act like I'm the same.


I have a lot of off days.
But if you want to stick
around,
please do.


Because I can't do it 
by myself.
I'm currently trying.


And it's a load
of shit.


Sorry my 
life isn't working out,
sorry it rains on your parade,
and sorry I can't pull myself together.


When it happens to you, 
let me know.
Because I'll understand.
Until you've been through it,
you have no idea.


And thank you,
to the one person who
asked if I was ok this week.
You made my day more bearable.