Bad Poetry – Snapshots of Anxiety


I recently dug up an old folder filled with scraps of paper and a dusty notebook that included some of the thoughts and some poetry from my earliest days of writing. As i poured over the old scribblings I remembered the time of my life that the had come from, a time when I was at my lowest, letting the darkness close in around.  I have since recognized my struggles from that time and been able to open up about my struggles with anxiety as I climbed up out of the pit.

What follows is the first of many thoughts and poems that I am calling Snapshots of Anxiety. They are each a look into my mindset during some of my greatest struggles and many merely a single sentence. Many are just plain bad, but I thought they could provide a little insight to some so here they are nonetheless.  I will try to follow each one with a bit more insight into the times and situations that triggered them if I am able to recall the details.


I remember this one very well.  I was in an apartment that was shared with three others, one of whom was a cousin (we did have separate bedrooms), so it was not like I was isolated and alone during this time.  I had just returned to college after a failed business attempt and was lost in my life. I was somewhat lost before I started the business which was one motive for setting out on my own, but I think that I let that drive me too much and I didn’t properly prepare for the future and for the consequences.  After it failed I let all my past pain and regret flow in and quickly sunk into the dark places of the mind.

I was sitting in my room thinking about my failures when the ticking of the wall clock started to catch my attention and reminded me of all the time that I had wasted in trying to accomplish something.  Part of me seemed to have been searching for darkness so I only focused on what was lost not the fact that I had returned to school to further my education, or that I had checked off a career path that I now knew I did not want to follow. The only time that was really wasted was that which was spent reflecting on time that I thought was wasted. A simple change of perspective is night and day and there is always good to be found, although we may sometimes have to search harder than others.


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