Mindful

Mindful

I knew I was smack dab in the middle of it, when
amongst the asparagus,
the sweet potatoes
and the rutabagas in the produce aisle at Fortinos,
close to tears,
I could not choose
between iceberg and romaine lettuce for dinner.
Pull yourself together here. It’s grocery shopping, for Pete’s sake.
Negative chatter sabotaged every thought;
every other inadequacy flooded in:
How could you have forgotten the list? It was right there on the table.
When are you going to get organized? You’re completely useless.
Convictions of worthlessness and failure, and
a mind full of self-criticism: the root of all depression.

I would have taken cancer over depression;
folks accept physical illness.
Doctor’s appointments, and monthly treatments;
the validation of poor health.
Mental anguish shrouded in shame.
Too inadequate to be with others and yet,
too afraid to be alone.
Being alone with my thoughts
was like being alone with the devil.
I wanted to shout,
I’m being held prisoner inside here.
Somebody please help me!
Waiting for liberation was the real hell.
Anti-depressants to try, to hope on, to be disappointed by.
Six to eight weeks of treading water in the deep end with
the life ring still so far away.
It does not wait patiently.