Writing As A Form Of Therapy

[BlueBay]

Thanks @HenryX for your comments 

I do enjoy the customers especially the ones that love a chat. We have a lot of the older generation and they love to stop and talk. 

At times I feel overwhelmed and that's when I go into "panic mode" or "I don't give a stuff about life anymore" but those feelings do ease up. It just takes time. 
@HenryX  yiuve had lots of experience in different work places which is great. I've always stuck with either admin or pharmacy. 
thanks again for replying. Xxx

[BlueBay]

Thanks for your comments @StuF 

[bipolarbunny]

@BlueBay Beautifully written, I can definitely identify with the fear you speak of and also of not caring about anything. Hang in there and keep writing and please keep sharing. xx

BB 🐰💙

[bipolarbunny]

@Silenus Much respect to you and great thanks for giving us a place to express ourselves! xx

BB 🐰💙

[bipolarbunny]

This one seemed appropriate for current Winter lockdown feels. xx 
BB 🐰💙

@greenpea @Former-Member @Anastasia @Shaz51 @frog @HenryX @Dimity @Judi9877 @Meowmy @Appleblossom @Mazarita @TideisTurning @rivergal @StuF @BlueBay @Silenus 

Concrete In The Veins

It’s foggy, it’s numbing, it’s frightfully dense,

This mood upon waking, is not making sense,

I try to remember, but nothing retains,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

Not angry, nor anxious, just bland to the thought,

Too dulled for misgivings, to slow to retort,

The pressure is deep, I’m asleep at the reins,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

The horse has now bolted, the reins are a flap,

I’m dazed and I’m powerless, reading this map,

My eyes are all clouded, I’m fastened by chains,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

Constricted emotions, I feel like the dead,

Are wandering fruitlessly round in my head,

A zombie drug, nonsense, society claims,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

A look that is hollow, a voice that won’t speak,

A haunted demeanour that shadows the weak,

My heart feels abandoned, so little remains,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

I long for the days where I tiptoe through time,

My mind all agog, like a Dr. Seuss rhyme,

Replenished with love on the happiness train,

Alas there’s still concrete, that runs in my veins.

© BB - 13 Oct 2020

[Dimity]

@bipolarbunny you inspired to give my take on winter days

Soul's winter

Grey light all daylight, chill in air

Dull ache in heart-hollow, in throbbing emptiness of skin's shell

Scalp and fingers spark and tingle but eyes converge on dark horizon (the vanishing point)

Awake and fearing sleep, but clinging to sleep in dread of morrow

Calendar pages turn and drop in this vestibule of eternity

Dimity

[bipolarbunny]

@Dimity Wonderful verse my friend,

"Calendar pages turn and drop in this vestibule of eternity" 

Wow I hear that! xx

BB 🐰💙

[Dimity]

@bipolarbunny thanks BB

I must admit I also feel the concrete in the veins!

[BlueBay]

Thanks @bipolarbunny  for your support writing here is the only place I feel I can be me. Snd write exactly how I feel. It may not rhyme or make sense but that's me. I'm not great at writing. 

[Anastasia]

@bipolarbunny wow, just wow ❣️

Also wow @Dimity 💕

Hello @BlueBay ❤️