Sonnet for Hope in Pain

Sonnet for Hope in Pain

Pride for you and shame upon myself

I hide from view and try to calm my mind

Symptoms of tormenting mental health

Force me to relive my other lives,

What could have been, and what is not to be

Failures of love, and friendships lost surround

My brain and pull the strings of ‘me’

Emotionally drained into the ground,

Can one pick one’s ‘self’ up while they’re falling?

If thrown a rope they must have light to see

And strength to climb back up towards the dawning

Of a new enlightened energy,

As long as my blood flows then there is hope,

That I can really live, not merely cope.

(freewillisntfree.com)

An Unweeded Garden

An Unweeded Garden

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the everlasting had not fix’d

His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fie on’t! O fie! ’tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature

Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

(Hamlet, Shakespeare)

In a way, Hamlet saved my life. When I read Hamlet or see it performed, the extremes of anguish and despair seem to en-cloak my heart in empathy. If you suffer from depression and haven’t seen Hamlet performed on stage, I really can’t recommend it enough. I don’t know if Shakespeare was a depressive, but he was definitely a genius, and he seems to represent depression in words better than anyone else I’ve come across in literature or music. This is from around 413 years ago, and I still wish I could cry like a normal person when I read it. Why don’t people write tragedies any more? Life is so often tragic, the world is just as tragic now as it was then, so why does Hollywood demand optimism? Some European films have come close to tragedy, but nothing quite as sublime as Shakespeare, Marlowe or Webster (my personal favourites). If anyone can recommend me any truly tragic movies, please don’t hesitate.

Anyway, I was going to explain how Shakespeare, and particularly Hamlet saved, or at least changed my life. I’ve tried to write songs off and on for the whole of my depressed adult life. It is nothing other than torture though, when one has such desperation to find words to describe their mind’s life, and cannot gain any confidence in, or satisfaction from what is written. I picked up the Works of Shakespeare for some poetic inspiration. Boy was I inspired, I found impossible brilliance in the Sonnets, and just flicked back a few pages to feed a growing curiosity. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. ‘Oh, I’ve heard of Hamlet’, I thought, ‘I’ll just read the first act and see what it’s like’. I was hooked before Hamlet even appears, but more so after his first words of the play, an under the breath utterance of retort against Claudius’ patronising words: ‘A little more than kin, and less than kind’ (Act I Sc II). Not to mention the following speech to his Mother on his profound grief for his Father’s death. Hamlet’s Mother has the cheek to ask him of his grief ‘why seems it so particular with thee?’, his response is beautiful:

Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems.

‘Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

Nor customary suits of solemn black,

Nor windy suspiration of forc’d breath,

No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected ‘haviour of the visage,

Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief,

That can denote me truly: these, indeed, seem;

For they are actions that a man might play:

But I have that within which passeth show;

These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

(Act I Scene II)

This brilliance is followed hard upon by the astounding soliloquy quoted briefly above to open this post.Look how I’m being pulled by different threads of thought and inspiration, and not getting to the point, blame the bard. The point is that by the time I had finished reading this sublime tragedy, I knew that I wanted to study English. Now that might not sound like a big deal to you, but to me dear reader, it was a new direction that wasn’t down, and if I hadn’t changed direction I’m not sure how much further I had to fall, so there’s how the play-write may have saved my life. My only disappointment with the English study so far: not enough tragedy. But then again, my mind is tragic enough as it is.

As always, dear reader, your thoughts and responses are welcome and encouraged. Maybe you’ve had a similar epiphany on something completely different, I’d love to hear about it. Thanks for reading.

L

And Also…

My first (last) post left a few essential things unsaid. Consider this an extension of my introduction. One central aim of this blog is to document individual experiences of depression and anxiety, and my efforts to achieve an eventual (ever hopeful!) gradual recovery from my loathing of existence. ‘What a piece of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals, and yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither’ (Hamlet, Shakespeare).

If I do manage to ‘change my mind’ in a literal and positive sense, it will be the art forms of literature (I’m studying English language and literature), poetry, music, and theatre to which I’m most indebted. To some extent I’ve made some recovery already, I tried to kill myself in 2010 and now I’m glad I didn’t succeed, so that in itself must reflect improvement. I’m by no means cured though, I’ve just managed to gradually improve my situation over time by making changes where I can, and accepting a myriad of flaws. Since I embarked on my second attempt at getting a degree, I’ve started to appreciate the therapeutic value of writing. I have about as much natural motivation as a stone has blood, so I’m theoretically making my own here. Your input, dear reader, could literally change my life. I bet you don’t hear that every day, but there may be some kind of compassionate community in this blogging world which I’ve been missing out on. Discussion of our problems with others really helps us understand ourselves, and I’ve just realised that my mind is taking me off the beaten track again. Anyway I intend to document my poetry and music on here as I go, not in any particular order, just whenever I feel they’re appropriate. Thank you for reading, please do make this a discussion rather than a monologue, I’d value your thoughts over mine.

L