Abject Uselessness

Ire
Bile
Fury
Rage
Spite
Angst
Anger
Wrath
Hatred
Vitriol
Frenzy
Malice
Cruelty
Enmity
Disgust
Temper
Anxiety
Ferocity
Brutality
Intensity
Hostility
Violence
Agitation
Revulsion
Irritability
Bitterness
Animosity
Fierceness
Aggression
Detestation
Destruction
Vehemence
Resentment
Abhorrence
Viciousness
Antagonism
Repugnance
Belligerence
Malevolence
Confrontation

They say that bipolar patients deal with depression
Quite the contrary, depression is but the open door
To the invitation of this list of nouns
Note that depression is not listed once

At the height of my depression
I experience a wild and rage-filled range of emotions
I am capable of behaving with quite a wide option of choices
All of it dependent upon where I am at the moment of fracture

Depression for me is not an emotion I simply ease into
Like a lazy pair of fluffy bedroom slippers at the end of the day
Rather, coming down from my manic high, it is something that I snap into
Like a well-oiled socket into a large textured wrench

Ever vigilant at work or in public
I can seethe quite effectively behind closed doors
It’s when I am in the confines of my home all alone
That these attributes can solely be exhibited

I’ve destroyed prized possessions and memorable pieces
Annihilated relationships with friends and family alike
Even most recently demolished my most precious attachments—
My son and my immediate family

They don’t understand the voices in my head
That dictate to me when and how to demolish the intended target
All they see is the abject anger directly pointed at them
And, in return, reply in kind by cutting me off at the knees

At this point in my life I truly am all alone
I choose this state voluntarily
Oh, I know there are spiritual venues I could travel
But I don’t go down that road—it only sets me up for heartache

In one fell swoop I can be filled with praise and worship and at the drop of a hat
Be filled with the most incredible anger and resentment
Feelings because of the unknown
Feelings because I’m tired of the state my life is in

I have simply had my fill of all the crap I can take
No manic phase is going to change the facts of my situation
I’ve tried to be faithful in this so called wilderness—my storm
But all I get is a closed door that is slammed in my face

It’s the anger that keeps me going, fueling my passion for repulsion
There is too much energy invested in this emotional upheaval
What some would say could be a precursor to suicide
Is simply my outlet to destroy all that is within me

Suicide is the easy way out. One can’t vent the enormity—
The extent—to which these emotions rise to the back of my throat
No, I want to feel each and every one
And savor the pureness of the moment of absolute desolation
©2007