"My nights aren't like yours" and "I wear a watch"

March 25, 2019

The poems below convey traumatic mental health behaviors and thoughts; it is better to avoid them than risk severe triggers, if that is a serious concern.

 

The poems here were written to reflect one person's experiences. The author hopes that anyone going through similar experiences may find comfort in community. It is the sincere hope of the author that anyone going through similar struggles gets the help they deserve. Washington and Lee Counseling has tremendous resources.

 

If you are at risk, please call 1-800-273-8255, or use the online chat function.

 

 

 

 

My nights aren’t like yours

 

 

You do not like a busy day.

Running from meeting to meeting,

It is exhausting!

School would be better

If only there

Were no class, only 30 weeks of KA Beaches -

Were no homework, only nights of trashcan punch.

 

I do like a busy day.

Running from meeting to meeting,

It is exhausting!

School would be better

If only there

Were class, so I could see other people –

Were homework, to fill my sleepless nights.

 

I do not begrudge your fun.

Sometimes, I lie awake, imagining having it too.

Wreck my GPA:

A party, once a semester –

Anxious sleep deprivation, night after night.

We both are awake past one;

You had a good time,

I watched my phone, just in case.

You have a good time at night.

My nights aren't like yours.……

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wear a watch

 

 

When I was seven,

My problem was on the baseball field, I couldn’t hit.

My father promised a pocketknife, if when I did.

When I was seventeen,

My problem was in my head and on my wrist.

My mother took my pocketknife, so I didn’t.

 

The first time, I wore a sweater,

Then long sleeves,

Even as it got warm.

I left my hands in my pockets.

I learned only to raise my right hand in class.

 

The doctor wanted me to be more active.

My mother gave me a fitbit.

She got one too, so we could compete.

My mom thought I would get excited to be active.

I got excited to wear the pedometer.

No one thinks to look past it.

I talked in class more,

Short sleeves, and talkative hands:

The fitbit made me more active.

 

One time, I borrowed a watch.

I felt grown-up.

My pedometer was upgraded

To a sport watch,

‘To keep him active,’ said my mom.

But I know. I need

The soft, cool rubber –

Or at least, to avoid metal on my wrist.

 

 

 

My watch is on my left arm.

Only my right arm raises in class,

My left only tells sad stories.

They are my stories.

The new therapist could not see the scars,

But I could, with my wrist bared.

They are covered

Now, not for you.

 

On my wrist are three lines.

 

You’ve never seen them because I wear a watch.

……

 

 

 

The poems above convey traumatic mental health behaviors and thoughts; it is better to avoid them than risk severe triggers, if that is a serious concern.

 

The poems here were written to reflect one person's experiences. The author hopes that anyone going through similar experiences may find comfort in community. It is the sincere hope of the author that anyone going through similar struggles gets the help they deserve. Washington and Lee Counseling has tremendous resources.

 

If you are at risk, please call 1-800-273-8255, or use the online chat function.

 

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