Thursday, May 31, 2012


I think too much.  It seems like, as a general rule, most people lead with either their head or their heart but, of course, I have to be different and lead with both, often at the same time, and usually when they are in direct conflict with each other.  I am, and have always been, a person with a great many thoughts and ideas but rarely in possession of the courage to share them.  I am in an almost constant state of turmoil and I find it very hard to trust my own judgment.  I'm a walking contradiction.  I trust, truly trust, almost no one, yet I open my heart and spill my guts on this blog, on facebook, through my poetry.  Why am I this way?  Part of me says, "shut the fuck up, Kari.  Opening your mouth, and your heart, only leads to misery and pain."  Then, the other part says, "for most of your thirty-nine years, you have lived in shadows, afraid to share what is in your mind and heart, constantly berating yourself for being so afraid.  Now is the time to share what is inside you, regardless of what anybody else thinks."  But, therein lies the problem.  I do care what people think.  I care what EVERYBODY thinks, even though I know I shouldn't.  I let people hurt me constantly.  Everyone's opinion matters.  I can feel fan-fucking-tastic (well, theoretically.  In reality, that doesn't happen often) one minute and then, a perceived "stink eye" from a complete stranger, what may just be an off-handed remark having nothing to do with me, can set me into a tailspin and break my heart.  Why am I like this?  Why do I let others dictate my self-worth?  Maybe that's the wrong question.   My husband tells me all the time, "People love you.  They care.  They show you this in words and actions.  Why don't you believe it?"  That is a question to which I have no answer.  I've been analyzing things more than usual for the past few days, for reasons I don't care to mention, but what I'm starting to believe and understand is that I can't believe it because I don't think I deserve it.  I try my best to be a good person, however one defines that.  I put others above myself, always.  But, in my heart, I feel like I am unworthy.  If I'm not, why am I always, ALWAYS, unhappy?  Sure, I have fleeting moments of joy but, at the core, I am always unhappy.  I have clinical depression.  I am currently not medicated.  That is certainly a big part of it.  But really, why do I have clinical depression?  Why can't I get a handle on things the way I wish I could?  What it seems to come back to, for me, is that I must deserve it.  I must deserve depression, deserve dissatisfaction, deserve pain.  I don't know why.  People tell me that they don't believe this to be true but I do.  How can one person feel so trapped in sadness on a near-constant basis unless they deserve to be sad?  Is there a "big lesson" that I have yet to learn?  I know that I am better off than some.  I am in reasonably good health, I have all my limbs, I am not homeless, I have family and friends who love me.  Why can't these things be enough?  Why can't I, for even a minute, just take a breath and say, "everything is okay.  It's not perfect, but it's okay" and truly believe it?

Monday, May 28, 2012


Long and thin
Pulsing green
With life
I take you in my hand
Gently at first
Then suddenly
Squeeze with
Great vigor
With power
With all I have left
Your only defenses
Pierce my skin
Blood rushing
A brief distraction
From the far greater pain
Residing in my heart
I take your petals
One by one
Tearing them from you
Watching them fall
Not questioning
If He loves me
For I already know
He loves me not
 -Kari Murphy 5-28-12