A Couple Poems to Share

                  As I mentioned earlier this month, April is National Poetry Month. I had intended to post more poems this month, but my thoughts which guide my posts, took me in a different direction. So, today I will post a couple poems. 

                  Poetry is healing for me. I have been writing poetry for a long time and it still brings me healing. This morning, I received my esketamine treatment and I wrote a couple Haiku poems afterwards. Sometimes I think in poetry. That may sound weird, but it happens. Poems just start forming in my mind. Most of the time I get them written down before I lose them. Writing poems is a gift that I have been blessed with.

Let’s get to the poems. One is about cancer. I wrote it this week. It is a reflection on my cancer. It might seem strange that I refer to cancer as a gift. It is definitely not a gift in the traditional sense, but I have learned from cancer. In that sense it is a gift. The poem is titled Cancer, A Gift. 

The second poem is about living with mental illness. The title is Time Inside My Mind. It is an invitation to see into my mind and the minds of others who live with mental illness. While we are all different, we share a similar struggle, a similar pain. If others could understand what it is like to live with mental illness, perhaps there would be less stigma. 

I encourage you to really think about the poems. Take a moment to just listen to what the poems are saying. Since it is National Poetry Month, I would like to remind readers that my poetry books are available on Amazon and can be ordered in bookstores. (A Light Amidst the Darkness, Curative Quest, and Conscious Connection)

Saturday is Independent Bookstore Day. Visit an independent bookstore and maybe purchase a poetry book. My poetry books, A Light Amidst the Darkness and Curative Quest can be ordered in bookstores. Here’s a quick plug for my favorite independent bookstore, Vroman's Bookstore. Shopping at independent bookstores really helps. I know my books are available on Amazon, but that is how self-published writers need to get their books out in the world. I still love purchasing books from independent bookstores. There is something about the smell of books and walking through aisles of books. 

Back to the poetry. Here are two poems I wrote this month:

 

 

 

Cancer, A Gift

 

As I face a new day,

I see cancer fading.

The battle has been difficult,

But I have learned so much.

My cancer has taught me to appreciate life,

Taught me the value of life.

Before cancer I was just going through the motions.

Living, but not living.

Cancer tore me down,

Left me lying in bed

Fighting waves of nausea and pain.

Not knowing if I would live or die.

Healers assembled.

Some with medical degrees,

Others with supportive thoughts.

Together they lifted me through the battle

Against the war cancer wages against me

While at the same time teaching me to reach for hope,

A hope held by these healers assembled at my side.

Hope, a gift masked by the illness.

My battle with cancer has not been in vain.

I have lessons to share and

Hope to pass onto others who face this relentless illness.

Cancer may never disappear, but

The gift of hope remains.

 

 

Time Inside My Mind

 

If you could spend time inside my mind

Maybe you would understand, and

Be a little kinder.

You would hear the conversations that trouble me.

My mind tearing me down while I beg it to stop.

 

If you could spend time inside my mind

Maybe it would explain how I feel and

Help you understand that I really do not want to live this way.

I want to smile and experience joy.

The depression gripping my brain steals that experience from me.

 

If you could spend time inside my mind

Maybe you would see I have an illness.

This illness robs my mind of all I could be.

It leaves me in a world of darkness,

A world I struggle to escape.

 

If you could spend time inside my mind

Maybe you would reach out and offer a hand

A little help from you might allow me to overcome this dark illness.

Then I could live a life free from the pain I long to escape and

Just maybe conquer the depression once and for all.

 

The Gift of Poetry

                  April is National Poetry Month. For me poetry is a major part of my life and my journey with mental illness. Depression and anxiety have haunted me since I was a teenager. Fortunately, poetry has been by my side almost as long. I started writing poetry when I was around 15 years old. I didn’t know what I was doing. In the beginning I was probably just writing words on the page. I remember a teacher encouraging me to write. I don’t know if she knew she was encouraging me to release all that was trapped inside of my mind. That’s what my poetry was doing. 

                  In the years since I have written countless poems. Some of them are just for me. Others have found their way into my books and been read at open mic poetry readings. Still, others have allowed me to better communicate with my mental health team. This is one of the great things about poetry; it belongs in many places and serves many purposes. 

                  I have admired the writings of many poets including Sylvia Plath and Emily Dickinson. More recently I have been impressed by the work of young poets such as Amanda Gorman. Poets share a unique magic as they paint pictures with words. Are there any poets that resonate with you? Share in the comments.

                  For me poetry has a healing power. I find strength in releasing my thoughts and feelings in verse. The words flow out of me. They pull the depression and anxiety out of my mind. I feel the poetry and know that it is bringing me a bit of healing.

                  Sometimes I write poems for others. To me that is the most meaningful gift I can give because the poem is a piece of me. The poem is me speaking to you in a way that I may not be able to speak aloud. 

                  Today I would like to share a poem that I wrote the other day. No one has read this poem yet. Enjoy. 

                  I will share a few more poems this month to celebrate National Poetry Month.

 

A Poem Must Speak

 

A poem must speak.

Its words giving meaning to what the poet experiences.

Her emotions spill onto the page.

 

A poem must speak.

The poet forming the words trapped within her.

Sharing a piece of her life.

 

A poem must speak.

Words expressing meaning and

Allowing the reader into the poet’s inner world.

 

A poem must speak.

An interpretation of pain and joy emerge as

Words flow and emotion jumps off the page.

 

A poem must speak.

Creating a deep connection between poet and reader,

A moment of understanding.

 

As the poem speaks,

The poet breathes a sigh of relief.

 

 

 

Giving Back

                  I have learned that giving back feels good. This past Saturday night I had a poetry reading as a fundraiser at Empty Shelf in San Gabriel, CA. The purpose was to raise money for the general breast cancer research fund at Keck Medicine of USC. I was hoping for a few hundred dollars. I raised $1,125. I am thrilled to be able to donate that money.

                  My cancer journey has taught me a lot about valuing life. It has helped me overcome suicidal ideation. I have learned that I want to live. Cancer is a tough way to learn this lesson. So, I can’t say I am glad cancer hit me, but I am happy that I have learned the lessons I have learned. My depression isn’t gone, but I think I understand how to live with it better now. I have learned to tell depression to be quiet when it starts in with its suicidal thoughts. I have learned that I have a reason to live. Cancer still sucks, but I am learning to fight. 

                  I have an amazing team of medical professionals caring for me. My oncologist and primary care provider (PCP) take care of all things physical. They also encourage me and give me hope. My PCP was the first person who told me I could fight cancer. She told me this immediately after telling me I had cancer. So, right from the beginning, there has been a knowledge that I can fight. My oncologist provided me with hope in my very first appointment with her. It didn’t matter that my cancer was stage 4 and metastatic.  She was going to lead me in the battle, and I would live. She remains the hope that I hold onto.  The nurse navigator became my “Dancing Queen,” teaching me to dance on top of cancer. She reminds all the time that I need to keep dancing to beat cancer. Her motivation lifts me up and reminds me that I can live.  All the nurses, my PCP’s nurse and the infusion nurses, always take such great care of me. They encourage me while providing me with care and understanding. The infusion nurses make sure my treatment goes well.

                  My mental health team has been by my side throughout. My psychologist is always there to talk to me and to help ease my anxiety. My psychiatrist helps me understand what I am experiencing and ensures that I am taking care of my mental health. My psychiatric nurse practitioner, S, always listens to me and helps me make sense of things. Now, I see another psychiatric nurse practitioner, too. She, along with the techs, makes sure I get my treatment and that I get through it with ease. 

                  So, I have an army behind me. That gives me reason to give back. In the past I have raised money for mental health through NAMI Walks. Now, it is time for me to give back for all the help and healing I have received in my cancer battle. My writing is the one thing I have that I can share with others. So, I had a poetry reading with a raffle and silent auction to raise money for breast cancer research. There are many cancer organizations, but there is nowhere I would rather give back to than Keck Medicine of USC. Their team has saved my life. I want to give back to them.  I want to help them fight for others with cancer. I know first-hand that they make a difference. The poetry reading and the funds I raised are a small token of my appreciation and gratitude, 

                  The fact that I can give back shows that I am winning the battle against breast cancer. I have the ability to give back. I am healing. I want to do more and hopefully I will find ways to do more. As long as I can give back, I am going to. I don’t know what that will look like moving forward, but it is my goal. I am considering starting a second blog to write about breast cancer. Let me know what you think about that. It would be easy for me to start a second blog. I love to write. So, writing would likely come naturally. Maybe a breast cancer blog would help others fight this awful disease.

                  I want to share the poetry reading with all of you reading this. Listen to my message. Feel the poems. Cancer can strike when you least expect it. Value your health and get recommended screenings. It can save your life. 

                  Here is the link to my poetry reading:

 

https://youtu.be/LqRh3tPcT3c?si=nOYkoBvke-1aKg2i

 

                  

Still I Rise

            The great African-American writer/poet, Maya Angelou wrote a poem titled, “Still I Rise”.  I find inspiration in this poem.  Angelou shared how her confidence allowed her to overcome anything that was thrown at her.  She was a strong woman, but she was forced to overcome so much. Angelou proudly stood in the face of her trials, rising time and time again.  

            While struggling with illnesses is a different trial than Angelou faced, I feel like I find strength in her words. Depression and cancer are my trials.  I face them each day.  I must rise above them despite the difficulty.

            Angelou writes, 

 

“…Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise…”

 

            These words strike me.  When depression and cancer fill me with fear that I will not win the battle, I must rise.  I must fight.  It is through fighting that I can live.  It is not easy to rise when fighting illness, but I must have faith in my own strength. There is a video of Maya Angelou reciting her poem.  The certainty in her voice and the smile on her face serve as encouragement for me.  

            There is hope in Angelou’s poem.  I think as a person with depression and cancer, I can use this poem as motivation.  Maybe I should have it printed and framed as a reminder that I can do hard things.  I can fight my illnesses.  I can rise each day and live.  

            Depression and cancer have power, but I have strength within me.  I have been fighting depression since my early teens.  My battle with cancer has been seven months so far, but it has been intense.  I lean into Angelou’s words, “still I rise.”  Each day that I am here battling, I am winning.  I am living.  I am rising.

            Angelou is an inspiration.  I encourage you to read her poem and find strength in it.  The written word has power.  She captured a piece of human power in this poem.  By sharing her strength, she helps others to find their strength.  Whether you face illness or some other trial, “Still I Rise” provides hope.

If you would like to read the poem, here is a link: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46446/still-i-rise

 

            You can watch Maya Angelou recite her poem here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qviM_GnJbOM

Credit: "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou

 

 

 

 

            

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do You Really See Me?

           I have had rough few days.  I am not up to writing a full post, but I want to get something up on the blog.  So, I will share a poem that is related to a recent post.  In my January 11^th post, “Turning Hurtful Words into Healing”, I wrote about a hurtful experience I had with a health care provider.  Since poetry is my go-to healing strategy, I wrote a few poems about that incident.  I am going to share one today.  This poem, Do You Really See Me? can be found in my book, Traveling the Healing Journey: Finding the Light in Mental Illness.  It is available in bookstores and on Amazon. 

            Let me know in the comments if the poem resonates with you.  I’ll be back with a longer post on Thursday.  

 

 

Do You Really See Me?

 

I get it.

I have a mental health disorder.

You do not understand.

I see you standing there in your white lab coat.

I guess you think that I am crazy.

It is easier for you to just assume that I am my mental health.

You do not see the person behind the label.

The person who feels so deeply, who longs for life to be different.

That is who I really am.

I am not just “depressed with catatonic features”.

I am more than my anxiety disorder.

I have dreams just like you.

I feel pain just like you.

Do you see me?

We are not that different.

One day you may struggle with this darkness, although I hope that you do not.

I do not wish depression on anyone.

Sometimes I wish I could better explain what it feels like to live with a mental health disorder.

Let others know what is like to see darkness all around me.

I hide my tears, wear a fake smile just to get through the day.

You only see a part of me.

Deep inside I am longing to emerge from behind my diagnosis;

Shatter the label and be seen.

 

 

Whispers Above the Water

             Today’s post is a poem I wrote this weekend.  Writing in general, and poetry in particular, has always been healing for me.  It has been one of my coping strategies throughout my battle with depression.  Now, I am writing to deal with both the depression and the cancer.  Writing allows me to get the thoughts out of my head and onto paper.  This makes them concrete, which allows me to process them in a more productive manner.  

            I share this poem today to express what I am going through.  I hope that others find strength in my words.  If you would like to read more of my poetry, I have published four books of poetry and a memoir.  Check them out at your local bookstore or Amazon.  Just search for my name. There are also links on my website www.ginacapobianco.com.  

            One of my friends mentioned that maybe there is a book waiting to be written in the journey I am now on.   Who knows? Maybe I will find my way to write that book.  

 

 

Whispers Above the Water

 

The ebb and flow of emotions.

The ripples become waves at times.

I try to hang on,

Ride each wave out,

But the emotions are powerful.

Their intensity overwhelms me.

I consider letting go,

Allowing the waves to drown me.

Something within me whispers.

I hear a faint voice telling me to grab hold.

The voice whispers that

It is not my time.

I reach through the waves, 

Grab on to hope.

The voice grows stronger.

I hear it emanating from within me.

The voice echoes around me,

“Don’t give up!”

I am buoyed by the words.

Now, my head above the waves,

Battle gear in place,

I am now ready to fight.

 

A Poem About Living with Depression

            I am going through some difficult things right now and couldn’t write a post for today.  My mind is just not in the right place to write.  Not being able to write actually adds to my struggle.  I hope you will forgive me for not having more to post today.  I hope to have one written for Monday.  For today, I am going to share a poem that I wrote in the past about living with depression.  Please share your thoughts in the comments section.

 

Depression

 

Depression hurts.

It is a silent pain.

Often hidden from others.

A smile on the outside masks the torment within my mind.

Words spin in my head.

Thoughts that will not stop create a barrage that drags me down.

No one hears these thoughts.

Others cannot comprehend the pain caused by these nagging words.

Depression is a lonely condition.

One that so often a person battles alone.

Out of fear that others will not understand, I isolate myself.

The depression gathers strength.

I worry others will notice and think that I am weak.

Despite knowing the depression is real, 

I fear others will belittle my affliction.

Society does not recognize the reality of depression.

People tell me to cheer up.

They do not understand that I would if I could.

There is no on-and-off switch.

I will continue to fight depression.

Some days the depression will win;

Other days I will win.

A lifelong battle with an invisible illness.

Depression hurts, depression debilitates,

But my silent battle preserves.

 

Check back on Monday, July 24^th for my next post.

 

Where did Bent, Not Broken Come From?

        The title of this blog came from a poem I recently wrote.  Writing poetry is a healing tool for me.  I have been writing poetry since I was a teenager. I don’t know what made me pick up a pen and start writing poetry, but I have been writing poetry to cope with my depression for over 35 years.  It is healing for me.  Writing allows the thoughts depression creates to leave my mind and flow onto paper.  Once the thoughts are on paper, I can process them in a healthier way.  A lot of my poetry is very dark.  It is full of the pain depression causes.  I believe I must write it.  Some may view it as a negative, but for me it is healing.  

I have also found the light in my poetry.  At times I can write about how I am healing.  I view depression and healing as darkness and light.  The light is the healing.  In some of my poetry I can see myself reaching out for that light.  It is often distant, but it is there. 

The poem I am sharing here, demonstrates the intertwining of dark and light.  It is where the title of this blog emerged.  

 

Bent, Not Broken

 

The darkness surrounds me.

I have grown accustomed to its chill.

At times I do not believe I can continue.

Cracks form within me. 

Tears fill my eyes.

Afraid, I lean further into the darkness,

Overwhelmed, ready to give up.

The darkness envelopes me.

Still, I try to focus on the light.

I am reminded I am not alone.

Each time I reach out,

My hand is held, and I am strengthened.

Golden streaks of light fill the cracks created by my bending.

Healing seems possible when I am held.

I bend, but do not break.

More flexible than I realized.

Bent, not broken!

 

 

Depression causes us to bend.  We come close to breaking.  Sadly, many people do break.  With help we don’t have to break.  It is a battle.  It is not easy.  Depression pushes and pushes, causing us to bend.  Depression hurts.  As long as we are fighting, as long as we are reaching out and accepting help, we can keep from breaking.  Being bent is painful, but like the tree on the cover of this blog, it is still beautiful. 

 

Check out my webpage for access to more of my poetry:

 

https://www.ginacapobianco.com

Check back in a couple days for my next post: What Is Depression?