Posts Tagged With: anxiety

Trapped

Trapped by a master not of my choosing:
The hating, beating, scarring, and bruising—
The beast-like man attacks the soul.
He challenges ev’ry cry to be whole.

Trapped by choices now old and unchosen:
Heart and mind numbed cold and frozen.
The burden of sin now crushes my life:
The cravings are cruel and cut like a knife.

Trapped by my doubts and all of my fears:
Ev’ry threat makes eyes flicker and tear.
Anxiety rips the life from my chest,
No longer free to put forth my best.

Trapped by pride that boosts up my ego:
Blinding my mind to all my own evil—
Deluded by lies I’ve told to myself;
Haunted at night by an unwanted elf.

Trapped by my past, my history of crime:
I’m stuck in a cage and covered in grime.
Regret makes no sense since my future is lost.
I chose to kill at my destiny’s cost.

Trapped by the dirt, the fire and hell:
I’d blame the Most High, but I’m covered in welts.
Pain and torment are all that remain.
My face is downcast and smothered in shame.

Trapped by expenses and mortgage and debt:
The long-promised “good life” departed and left.
My work is a waste, a life without grace;
All my earnings have vanished, my savings erased.

Trapped by a vow and a love for mankind:
“You’re chosen to die!” the Spirit reminds
Of commitments to you—lost all I had,
Yet I’ll rise in the end …. I know I’ll be glad.

Chains shall be loosed; bars shattered; ropes burned.
Old patterns shall change; old habits unlearned.
Faith conquers fear; truth defeats doubt.
Pride is confessed; the humble break out.
Pris’ners set free; crim’nals forgiven.
Graves shall be emptied, the dead shall be livin’.
Debts cancelled; promise kept; price paid.
Shouts erupt from where Jesus was laid,
“Freedom to captives! The blind can now see!
Good News to the poor! At last, we are free!”

Categories: Poem | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Recovery

Today I participated in a NAMI Conference for Washtenaw County, and this seems appropriate to pass the publishing gate. Not all who suffer get this bad, but sometimes this is the only way to get out of the fog. A quick shout out to all those that I got to talk to there. I especially enjoyed hearing the fellow play a bit of Bach.

Lesson for the day from all those I got to hear:
Those of us with mental mazes are not social problems,
we are social pioneers and can be mentally amazing. But I digress.
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Dedicated to those who suffer from chronic mental illness.

As winter comes
and days are shorter, colder, and less friendly,
I huddle up, hugging blankets,
hoping to love, and be loved in return.

And when nothing happens but the dull passage of time,
I see a choice:
to hide forever digging deeper into darkness
or to rage against it all.
I have already hidden,
. . . but if I were to rage, would I rage against the walls?
or would I rage until I slid beneath in cowers?
or would I rage against the Living God?
or would I rage against some foe so tangible to me,
invisible to you?

The walls would yield till I fell cold.
My energy must not be wasted, for there is too little.
My rage must not be spent in ways as foolish as despair.
The Living God has long withstood my rage,
and all my hammering is empty,
looking so much like rebellion
that I have come to despise myself,
yet I shall see the face of God.
So if I raged against the foe who hides
and preys on weaker souls,
would "they" call me crazy?
Would I give up too soon, too short of victory?
Would I be crowned a hero for the day?

They have already called me crazy.
Awakening to victory against the enemy is worth
a thousand yesterdays of failure.
I have no choice but to rage in a hidden, friend-filled place
my love exploding gladly in the face of fear.
till God rewards with rich, undying, open grace.

Categories: Peer support, Poem, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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