I hear his ragged fingernails scratching at the door. I know they are dirty. Bits of his last host are deeply imbedded underneath them. He wants me to answer the door. He tries the bell. He knocks. I hear him breathing on the other side. I tell him he's got it all wrong.
I'm not depressed, I tell him. I'm sad. I'm disappointed. There's a difference. He doesn't take no for an answer. Prime target, he thinks. Easy to pull under.
He knows he's been let in before. He remembers a whole series written about him. He remembers I gave him a name. "Uninvited Guest." He knows he's been let in before.
He likes spending time with my husband. He sits next to him on the leather couch and helps him with his crossword puzzle. My husband does his crossword puzzle in pen. The Strong Silent Type is one of his biggest challenges. They have an ongoing thing, he and my husband. They sit quietly together.
When he came for my girl, I railed and raged against him. He was relentless. Two years later, he taps at her window with his raggedy nail. He always has one eye on her. But she almost never looks up.
This time the tap on the door is for me. He knows I'm not easy. I went with him once. When my mother died. I went with him for a while. He found me in that crumpled heap under the covers and made himself at home right next to it. He knew it was more than mourning a death. It was mourning a life. He had so much to feed on. Mother disowns daughter! Daughter has beloved child! Mother dies without meeting/acknowleging beloved child! Mother dies. Daughter goes to the dark place. Years of sad come bubbling up to the surface.
Those were good years for him. He had so much to work with.
Today I sit on the leather couch. I hear his ragged fingernails scratching at the door.
I remind him we only had a one time thing. I'm a glass half-full kind of person. It was only that one time. It was only that one time I let you pull me under. Held me under. I won't go back there. That black abyss. That place with no air. That place where I couldn't remember how to breathe.
I'm not going with you.
I am firm.
He is patient.


Salon.com
Comments
I can only respect that you all do heal.
I can also to sense your struggling too.
Struggling to transcend Evil is nobility.
I don't need to know the every detail.
Thanks for sharing. Rise above Evil.
You can email this on private OS PM?
tease.
Curse.
Pray.
I bet Barack Obama can relate too.
Kook hop over to The White House.
The Deranged are rotten nuts head.
Depraved gather in chicken coops.
They eventually reveal inner Evil.
Before the Evil folk croak? Pan.
Panic is Nature's Visitation.
The Evil "human" Freaks.
They Hop alone in Bed.
Then they Poop Bile.
Nature lay them Flat.
Panic envelopes Kooks.
Barack Obama Knows.
The Evil Hop a Gate.
The Kook go Crazy.
Kook draws a Line.
Line?
The pencil thin line.
Evil Fool drew line.
A Hitler Mustache.
`
P.S.
I an thinking ref:
Fools.
I am recalling.
I went to a T-
Party one day.
I saw posters with:
Pencil line on upper lip.
T-Pees poops sure hate.
Evil incarnates the fool.
I attended one tea-party.
I discerned? OY Kooky!
`
Thanks Joan H. Bless.
Curse Evil. Bless Good.
This gets sent to cosmos.
This too will pass away.
Jaime, thanks for coming by~
greenheron, yes. He lost quite a bit of his power here... :)
Art, you make me smile. I love what you've written here.
Mary, I appreciate that. Many thanks.
Patrick, I think there really is a point where he loses his ability to dig his nails in...
Matt, you are too kind, but you do make me laugh out loud.
You too, Chicken Maaaan.
Mine keeps pulling me under all the time.
Wonderful
HUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
Stay firm.
My demon is anxiety, and you've got me wondering what he looks like.
Linda, it's so good to see you. Huggggggggggggs back.
Linnn, he is a vampire of sorts. I never thought of that image, but I really like it.
Mime, I invented the "Uninvited Guest" a couple of years ago when he first knocked on our door. He has little power over me now. I think it's okay to be sad and disappointed. But it makes him lurk a little... :)
Kristina, many thanks for reading.
hugs, me~ exactly. I can spot him lurking a mile away. Thank you for such kind words.
Sheila, thank you for stopping by.
Jeanette, I will have to think about the image I have for Anxiety. I'm surprised it never occurred to me to think about one for him, since he has been my nemesis since childhood. Do you have an image for him?
Lezlie
Good work, here, Joan.
Such imagery.
Get the F*** away from Joan's home, you hear, you insidious creature?
Her smile is just too....valued.
I know of what you speak.
My strong silent man's Achilles' heel.
Congrats on the EP!
Lezlie, your comment made me laugh out loud. I appreciate that!
Scarlett, first I have to say how much I love your new avatar. What a gorgeous eye! Thank you for your beautiful comment.
Jonathan, it's hard on everyone, isn't it? Thank you for coming by. I wish her well.
Christina, many thanks!
Alysa, thank you for such kind words. I appreciate them.
That bastard Uninvited Guest keeps hanging around my door too.
gives me someone to fight against.
Fantastic writing and so scarily close to home. ( i left a comment earlier and it's gone.. OS magic POOF)
Matt, I always appreciate your support!
mistercomedy, many thanks.
Mary, thank you for reading. I always appreciate your comments!
MOC, and he doesn't care if you've been naughty or nice, either!
nerd cred, I cannot possibly entertain him for the weekend. He is a real buzz kill.
JT, he likes the challenge of the strong ones... thanks for such kind words.
Belinda, thank you
Algis, "wow" is a good thing, I hope.
Sally, you brighten up the whole day. xo
Susie, thank you!
froggy, "the weight loss diet of hopelessness." Oh, I understand that. Thank you for reading and commenting.
Bell, the door is bolted. xo
Bea, I'm so glad you liked this. Glad he only came to your door once.
What keeps coming to mind when I envision anxiety is a kind of evil, demented clown. Kind of like Pennywise from Stephen King's "It".
Great image of what depression looks like
rated
Also, you can try Lupin's solution with the Boggarts, and think of something ridiculous whenever you feel him nearby. You might think of Bea's dino . . .
BSB, he is patient and cunning. But fortunately we can learn how to outsmart him.
Ll2, I'm so glad that helps. Thank you for coming by.
geezerchick, yes, I remember being a teenager and thinking that dark and brooding meant more creative. As an adult, I am amazed how stuck I become when I am not happy. It's as if the darkness blocks off any creativity I might have...
Rita, "I smell him before I see him." I know just what you mean. Like a bad smelling vapor, he tries to seep under the door sometimes. Hang in there dear Rita, okay? Summer is still here... xoxo
Laura, thank you! And you're welcome.
Other things that help: fish oil helps tremendously. Ginko Biloba (off label). L-theanine does wonders. Breathing helps most of all.
Keep breathing.
The personification is so effective, and affecting, Joan. I've heard depression described a number of ways over the years . . . rarely with so much impact. I can't help but think that if I didn't understand depression, I would understand it better having read your pieces on it.
DEPRESSION
He paces in the shadows,
wanting in
watching with cold, hollow eyes
for an opening
however small
where he can slip in
and with icy hands
burning on my shoulder
push me down and down
until the weight becomes too much
and I just want to sink
Into the earth
and become a shadow too.
@Jeanette~ I have not stopped thinking about my image for anxiety since you mentioned it in your comment. I appreciate you coming back to include yours. I don't find that as easy to put a figure to. But I can't figure out *why.* Perhaps because anxiety is so "all over the place" (for me) I can't describe it's image. Still pondering...
And, I do crossword puzzles in ink too. But only because penicls are rare around my house.
Wonderful depressing allegory. And, the lack of story is the story- is the abyss which I now call "the trench". Its hard. Very hard to talk about and if no one has been there how can they relate?
You did make IT relate-able. Three ways- people. I hate that it gets worse the more you have it.
Wonderful depressing allegory. And, the lack of story is the story- is the abyss which I now call "the trench". Its hard. Very hard to talk about and if no one has been there how can they relate?
You did make IT relate-able. Three ways- people. I hate that it gets worse the more you have it.
I thought I was having an long term affair with the a-hole, but he turned out to be your garden variety anxiety...at least that's what he's calling himself now. When I'm really in the convoluted, crying in the trenches, wrapped up in bedsheets state, he calls himself love...but still refuses return mine. How's that for messed up?
Congrats on the well deserved EP. Who says fiction/poetry/prose isn't valued on OS?
R+++
i try not to have crosswords and be kind.
joke over laugh now.
I love that you give a body to that devil that is depression. I love that you are stronger than he is, and that you have a choice.
I rate you fabulous!
Andrea
Keep pushing him away. With both hands. xoxo