By the Bed - first draft of original song

Hey.

Not gonna talk much about this song below.  To do so is to disrespect the parties involved. But I did want to stress the following:

1)Every single word in the song is true. I wish it wasn't, but it is.

2)The verses and the chorus are written in the spirit of the moment  when it happened. The need for detail to explain, to control, to summon strength.  The bridge, however, represent my thoughts on the subject years, years later.

3)If you or someone you love feels suicidal, don't treat it as joke or as something you need to hide. Please, please, please seek help. If you don't want to do therapy, you can call an anonymous hotline like this one:

1-800-273-TALK

www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

I know it's scary, and I know that mental health is overlooked in the United States.  But you owe it to yourself to find care and comfort. This is a woefully short time we're given.  If you feel out of control, promise me you'll reach out to friends, family, or to an outside source.

Lyrics:

i'm by the bed
i smooth your hair
i kiss your cheek
Neck straining, try to read
the vitals on the screen
and you are sleeping so serene
i'm by the bed
thin ring of charcoal round your lips
from where they pumped you when they found you
when i called them
when you called me
when you let your spirit go

Chorus
Til the day I die
i know the worst thing I've ever done
was failing you
should have seen the signs
should have known your hurt had no ending
that collapse was due
oh, now i'm done with love
don't deserve it
far too steeped in sin, it's true
this is all
i know now

Second Verse
i'm by the bed
attendants wheel you out the door
step right in front of me
and tell me bring your clothes
they must observe you
how long   who knows
i'm by the bed
at our apartment
at the crime
survey the wreckage
there's the bottle
there's the pillbox
there's the letter
there's a suitcase  focus pack

CHORUS

Bridge
several years have passed
several thousand miles between us
you're doing well
found a new love
you're ok
i'm still alone
screaming in the wind to seize creation
feeling stronger
growing steady
i'm ok

but there's times i'm in the dark
recall that night, that bitter bark
how something died
my final hope
that i could help you learn to cope
and still i wonder is it me
who always poisons company
love's not enough
when you're bleeding
i was wrong
i am pleading
i am sorry for the pain you shouldered

Third Verse

i'm by the bed
you haven't slept, your fingers shake
room smells like nicotine
i hold you close and tight
and i am sorry   this isn't right
i'm by the goddamned bed
they wave you out
the doctor comes
he asks me jara
will she be safe
when she leaves here
and i'm sorry
for a second    i didn't know

CHORUS

Hilariously Depressed

Hey.

Those in the know are aware that I've struggled with depression my entire life.

I was diagnosed with severe depression in my mid twenties.  Did the therapy and the pills for about four years, and then my life really fell apart, and none of it helped, so I quit it all.

I poured myself into my work, saved up thousands of dollars to move to a new place.  I shut down all outside aspects of my life. And, as always, my sheer stubbornness led me to prosperity.

I don't do well with free time.  Once a play/musical ends, or I wrap up a creative endeavor, I collapse.

And, my depression, which has been patiently waiting, decides to take control.

I've been really hilariously depressed this week.   I think it's funny because it's so predictable and insistent and clumsy and familiar.

My depression looks like this:

Behold, the manatee.

Sailors used to believe these "sea cows" were mermaids.  They're lumbering, homely creatures.

My depression is mute and forceful and belligerent.  He slaps against my chest over and over until it's a steady, dull ache. It's hard to focus.

My favorite part about dealing with him are the strange, desperate bargains I make to keep him from undermining me:

Me: C'mon, you have to get out of bed.  There's no reason for you to brood and feel bad right now.
Manatee:  (groans, shakes head, hides under the covers)
Me: Look, if you get up, you don't have to shower, ok?
Manatee: (bleats feebly)
Me: ...and you can have Thai food.  I know you love Thai food...
Manatee: (slaps me hard with a fin)
Me: Dammit - what do you want?  Love?  Do you want love?  Well, you can't get that right now.  We don't have any of that in stock.  Do you want music?  Movies? Games?
Manatee:: (gurgles sadly)
Me:  (sigh) How about ice cream?
Manatee: (wheezes, lifts himself out of bed)
Me:  Ok.

And the two of us have been at it all this week. Making bargain after bargain to be able to do things a normal person can do without blinking: getting out of bed, going to work, going to see a friend sing, just getting out of the house.

I don't know if I'll ever make my manatee go away for good.  I know I'm still miles away from practicing healthy self-care and respect.  But by giving him a face, he seems less scary.  Less in control.