Can the GWOT Save Me?

Buddha, Shakespeare, Albert Einstein, Squanto. These are some of the greatest influences in my life. Buddha once said “What we think, we become”; who the hell would have known the mind, the human brain, was such a powerful organ. I know it is, which is why I’m dedicating the rest of my life to learn about it. Another rhetorical question, who the hell would have known, even with everyone telling me so, that this journey of life would be so heinous at times?

 

Ounces

One gram, two grams, an 1/8, an ounce. Grinders, joints, bongs, blunts, brownies, my pretty pipe that looks like fine china. My gnarly playlist that I love to listen to while I’m stoned out of my mind. Oh shit, I have class and I’m high as hell. Oh well, this isn’t the first time. “Hey Jessica, want to match later on?” “Dude ask Jessica, she’s always down to smoke a bowl or 5.” How did I end up a stoner?

Spaces

I pay $9,500 for room and board at Regis University. Surrounded by loud extroverts that have lots of friends. I share a room with someone I did not know 4 months ago, she’s now my best friend. This half of a room is mine. My space. Not my room, but my bubble. Something that has been invaded without consent, twice. I wish I had a smaller space. One that nobody can get into. What is space if it’s been tampered and violated?

Scars

Long sleeves. I’m overheating. Just roll them up or take off your jacket I tell myself knowing what a terrible idea that is. My favorite scar story is my head getting ripped open by a chainsaw. That’s a cool story. My scars tell a pretty cool story about me if you actually look at my body. A tragic masterpiece.

Liquids

Vodka, water, tea. Those are liquids I consume the most. Showers, baths, hot tubs. Liquids on me. Blood, sweat, tears. The liquids that come out of me. Vodka, Tequila, Jack Daniels, I remember nothing of those nights. Apparently, I tend to vomit and take my clothes off. Blood from bloody noses, cuts, and piercings. Sweat from the amount of exercising I do. More blood from me dropping my mirror and picking up shards of glass. Tears for the hurt, happiness, and laughter.

Neurons

Sensory neurons, motor neurons, multipolar neurons, pseudo-polar neurons, why are there so many neurons? Does that make me neurotic? Let’s talk about the human brain and alcohol. Alcohol doesn’t kill your brain cells but takes over the neurons responsible for creating and storing memories. Wish I has alcohol three years ago so my nightmare neurons weren’t active every single night.

Ounces

Okay, its another one of these days. Do the days ever get better? Alright, time to roll a joint and find my speaker to drown the thoughts. Twenty One Pilots? Duh. My mom asks where all of my money goes. My friends look at me worry some as they are all too familiar with the fake laugh and smile. They go along with it since they know the thoughts that cross my mind. At least the thoughts and flashbacks are ‘gone’ for a few hours, maybe the marijuana helps keeps my depression at a level where I actually want to live. Bought another ounce. Where’s my safe space? I’m having another panic attack.

Spaces

Oh no, I feel it all over again. His smell, his atrocious touch I always feel during the day. Now that thought led on to the second person of whom entered my space without consent…  As I remember that day more and more, I wonder why some beings are intruded on. The space behind my face and above my throat filled with this pink glob that constantly wages war against my “SPACE”.

Scars

Oh, that was from a cat “LOL”. I sweat nervously hoping they believe it. Hoping they don’t realize that I am lying. The laugh was decorative in that obvious lie. Touchy subject. Let’s go back to the tragic masterpiece that is my body. At one point, I used it as a canvas to express my inner thoughts of DEPRESSION. Oh shit, the liquid is pouring out of my veins. God dammit, back to the hospital I go. I get asked about my scars, put in 12x14 room with a mattress and a door that locks from the outside. There is the tragedy. I just wanted the thoughts to stop already.

Liquids

As they whisper, I hear “Some are superficial, but there are a few that are pretty deep. Keep her overnight”. It was just a little bit of blood. A small price to pay for the thoughts. I’m screaming help me as they give me a look of pity as I tell them about the intruders of my safe space. As another liquid exits my tear ducts, I contemplate the cowardly ways of stopping the thoughts. A thought I’ve sometimes put into action and ended right back into the scary place with looks of pity. I drink water and eat something, too bad I can’t keep anything down anymore. Sugary liquids quickly turned into 40 lbs. leading to a deeper state of depression and a new disorder that makes it hard to eat now.

Neurons

“TURN THAT SONG OFF” I scream as I remember the intruder. Why must my neurons betray me? Sympathetic nervous system is badly damaged. Makes sense. Can’t hear those two songs, they force me to vividly relive that moment. Cool. I feel weak, nauseous, tired. Sensory neurons, thanks for the memories. My father’s neurons go back to his sympathetic nervous system as well. He is damaged too, but from combat. Back to the flashbacks. I keep getting told I’m strong, god damn liars. There is the daily war. Better buy another ounce. It’s going to be a long week.

 

Ounces

What a great medicine. Too bad it’s illegal. My other prescribed medications landed me right back into the hospital. It helps my dad, my grandma, why not me? I genuinely laugh with my best friends at family guy. Bliss. Decent memories being created, amazing memories. Flashback to my suicide days, time to smoke a bowl, meditate, and put on my amazing playlist. Let’s have a good day today Jessica Brown. Let’s grab the bong and see that beautiful smile you’ve been looking for today.

Spaces

Meditation lets me make my space indestructible from previous damages. I can hug and cuddle someone now and not feel terrified for my life. My safe space suffered greatly a few times. Let’s not lie in rubble anymore and rebuild. Let’s make your space safe again.

Scars

From disturbing to cool, my body tells a story of my adventure through life so far. No recent scars with hope in them to end the adventure anymore. Now you can point to the one on your upper left limb and explain the story of how hard you fell but show them the ones on your palms to show the climb out of the hole.

Liquids

No more Tequila, Jack Daniels, or Vodka. Water, juice and tea. Blood, Sweat and Tears, my warrior fluids.

Neurons

Let time heal inner wounds.

 

 

As I conclude, “What we think, we become” has a different meaning now. I will be a neurosurgeon. I have depression, I am not depression. Cliché quotes are cliché for a reason. Rhetorical questions aren’t meant to be answered so I guess I’ll just keep going with this whole life thing and see where the road takes me.

Om Shanti

This poem is about: 
Me

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