Wednesday, April 19, 2017

A poem by Gary G Pelow, Dragged

I feel like I am being dragged with no direction or control by a team of four horses with my face downward along the ground.
Fear has a tendency to do that to a person, when fear runs amok in the mind that can feel as painful as anything physical.
I am also drained by depression, I have no ambition, at least not today, that tends to go up and down wildly.
Over the past 3 weeks most of my insomnia has gone away, except last night, I was having more paranoid thoughts, it kept running through my head how unseen people and unknown enemies want to kill me and are plotting against me.
It is late April, Spring is right on top of me, yet today is cold and rainy and bleak, made more bleak by fear and paranoia.
I am uplifted in a way though, for four fucking years, up until 20 days ago, I lived in the fucking unstable and unsafe rooming houses of this city in the North.
I was in constant fear for my physical safety, and not just because of paranoia but also because I was in real danger, one of my mentally ill, heroine addict house mates attacked me 3 months ago, a statement by events it was time to go, especially since I actually had the money to go.
So I am certainly grateful for being in a my own home, with my own kitchen, stove, bathroom, shower, and furniture.
I do have some sense of achievement for plowing through the past for years with constant abdominal pain, vomiting, constipation, insomnia, depression, anxiety, worry, paranoia, psychosis, delusion to a better place.
This place.
Now.
Here.
Safer.

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