Freud

They told me I had to sit,

talk, pour my life’s worth

into a strange ear.

I stretched on faux leather, thinking

about making chilli-

what the kids needed for school.

Slid down the sofa –

Not clinically depressed?

Bipolar? No.

Lonely?

Then I cried

18 responses to “Freud”

Quite wonderful – so beautifully succinct but human and vivid too. Really well done. k.

RepressedSoul August 15, 2012 at 10:48 am · · Reply →

thanks k, sharing something like this is a brave move for me!

Nicely done! I love it, especially the last two lines — they really surprised me, and I knew just what you meant.

Yeah…I dig that…oh boy…love it when “professionals” try to pigeonhole you into a textbook definition of depression. Damn it! Ya hit the nail on the head…Lonliness is painful but very different from “clinical depression.” …and puppies won’t cure it. Ya need a fella…and I wish it to ya. :)) xo

RepressedSoul August 15, 2012 at 11:05 am · · Reply →

Thanks J, difficult times I’m my worst enemy when it comes to analysis, never happy with what I do! I do need a fella, I agree with you there x

Oh yes… This is cool !

RepressedSoul August 15, 2012 at 11:12 am · · Reply →

thanks ayla xxx

Oh yes. I get this.

We all seek to know what the hell is wrong with us, don’t we? Need to define why we aren’t happy. And sometimes when we find out that it’s just Life being Life, steered and stirred by our chain of decisions…Whoo! I cried, too. Love this, Nightingale! xox ~ j

RepressedSoul August 15, 2012 at 11:36 am · · Reply →

Thanks J J why do we analyse so much? Thinking people are cursed.

This is awesome and possibly the bravest poem I have ever read.

Always remember xxx

RepressedSoul August 15, 2012 at 11:36 am · · Reply →

Thanks Abi. I’ll never forget xxx

Beautiful in its simplicity, every single word in this poem splashed into my heart ~ & the whole of it left me sitting in silence … knowing. x

RepressedSoul August 15, 2012 at 11:38 am · · Reply →

hopefully not writing a huge psychoanalytical evaluation *pouts*.

Awww, Sharnie, Sharnie, Sharnie (where did I get that from!), if I were an unattached fella (and considerably younger) I’d come and give you a big squeezy hug and a snuggle on the faux settee! But I’m not so I just wish you what you wish for, my lovely.

Oh, by the way, this poem is surprisingly moving. I say surprisingly, because, whilst the first ten lines compelled me to read on, it was the last that struck me like a broad sword in the sternum; brought a lump and a tear.