Regular
readers will know that I suffer from regular bouts of depression. Antidepressants
help, but they are no magic cure. Yet, somehow I manage to call on hidden
strengths to keep from falling into the proverbial pit and make my way back to
a semblance of ‘normal life’…whatever that is. The kinder spirits of nature and human nature play their part, taking me on journeys across time and space, revisiting loved ones dead and living, places and people that have given me sanctuary from the worst life so loves to throw at us from time to lime, reminding me why I attempted suicide at the age of thirty-three as well as how and why I found my way to start living again.
I have suffered from depression as a child although depression in children was not recognized in those days. I was often told I was a moody or ‘difficult’ child at school and at home. As I grew older and realized I am gay, I found myself fighting a lonely battle with my feelings but was probably seen by many as just another ‘difficult’ teenager. I was a nervous breakdown waiting to happen…as it did in my early 30s. Then, as now, writing was my lifeline, especially poetry.
I have suffered from depression as a child although depression in children was not recognized in those days. I was often told I was a moody or ‘difficult’ child at school and at home. As I grew older and realized I am gay, I found myself fighting a lonely battle with my feelings but was probably seen by many as just another ‘difficult’ teenager. I was a nervous breakdown waiting to happen…as it did in my early 30s. Then, as now, writing was my lifeline, especially poetry.
Not so
long ago, I met a young man who poured out his heart over several cups of tea
in a local café where I sometimes have lunch. He was plainly depressed. I
recognized the symptoms. He was also in denial of his sexuality, just as I had
been many years ago. Could the two be linked? I put it to him that he might
give it some thought. He leapt to his feet, almost knocking his chair over.
‘I’m not gay,’ he shouted. ‘I hate gays,’ he yelled again and left …but not
before snatching up my card that was lying on the table.
He did get in touch and we exchange emails
regularly. After using me as a verbal punch bag for some time, he later acknowledged
to me (and more importantly, to himself) that he is gay, but has yet to come out
to family, friends and colleagues. It is his decision, but I am sure he will find
his way to being openly gay in time. Until then, he says, it feels like like living in a halfway house as he discovers what it is to be gay and creates a comfort zone from which he can come out to family and friends.
Whatever
our social, cultural or religious identity, sexual identity also needs (and
deserves) to express itself, openly and freely.
In many countries - Russia, Nigeria, Uganda, to name but a few, LGBT relationships are a criminal offence, but in so-called 'liberal' countries, too, gay boys and girls, men and women are growing up in a gay-unfriendly environment under immeasurable stress. Those of us who can be openly gay without fear or (visible) prejudice would do well to give them some thought, offer encouragement, and never become complacent.
(BACK) DOWN TO
EARTH
Swaying,
drunk with life
at the
very edge of its darkness,
struggling
to keep a balance
of sorts
or go into freefall,
no soft
landing if landing at all,
but a
lonely journey
among
fake highs and tearful lows,
landscape
of human nature
Darkness,
hell among ghosts
losing
the will to live and keep
fighting
the good fight
for all
mind-body-spirit can achieve
in spite
of those ever ready
to dismiss any positive soundings
from
living memory
Let painters, musicians,
all art-forms inspire we less blessed
to find a
place of rest
within ourselves for engaging
with the
artist in a finer art
than art
alone can aspire, take heart
heart
from its ascension into a heaven
of its
and our own making
Oh, but
joie de vivre
can be ours
for the reworking yet
if we but
dare to let
its spirit
run free - look to see,
read to
learn, hear to listen,
lose what
we fear most
to senses left open to ‘live’ positives
in nature
and human nature
At the
edge of darkness,
sounds,
sights, cries, calling
me back to
you, my love,
while
grieving us (much like this),
the
kinder for mind-body-spirit
stage-managing
rehearsals
for ...
what, exactly? Where to look
but in personal space?
Few if
any answers there,
but I am
as I am, and any who would
put me
down cannot erase
Apollo’s
first kisses on my lips
as to
certain bliss
(if
uncertain peace) it's back down
to Earth, all the softer landing to find
you waiting for me here
Copyright
R. N. Taber 2005; 2014
[Note:
An earlier version of this poem under the title 'The Return' first appeared in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by
R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2005.]
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