The fool's dream. Is it me?

 

Everyone's got a sob story.

I've been prone to bouts of melancholia and anxiety as far back as I can remember. There was no such diagnosis in the 70's and 80's, not in rural Australia anyway, and now that I'm in my 50's and still have them as companions, I'm likely stuck with them til the end. Hence this poem. (An image version at the bottom).

Endurance and acceptance are likely the two biggest allies to adopt. If you have additional ones, more than happy to hear them. (I've reluctantly started a new medication, not an anti-depressant and starting counselling this week). 

Therapy through writing.

The fool’s dream

 

I wake with the fear

And fall asleep with hope

Knowing reality

Rarely waits patiently between both.

 

When will I learn

That there’s nothing new to learn?

The fog settled in

A long time ago

I just can’t let go

Of the sweet concept

Of a better tomorrow.

 

It’s the calling

That keeps fools dreaming

Which I should be grateful for

As temporary fantasy

Remains a release

But I recognised the lie

So far back

That I can’t be party to it

Anymore.

 

 

20.9.23 7.20 pm

Edit   27.2.24

 

A.J. Langford Books

I have far more additional stress than September last year, hence the edit in Feb. I guess and the decision to post it now. 

We all have our bullshit to deal with. A lot of mine is within my head. No escaping that.

Anyway, smile and fake it and push on. Fuck it.

Peace.