Bad Depression

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I’ve been really struggling with depression lately. And I mean really struggling. Like, can’t get out of bed struggling. Like sleeping more than half the day struggling. Even when I do finally get out of bed, I often find myself back in bed soon after, lying there staring at the wall and the ceiling for unlimited amounts of time. I do still have an appetite at least, but I think a lot of that is the meds, which make me hungry almost all the time. Of course, sometimes with depression I do tend to comfort eat as well. So along with the desire to do absolutely nothing, I am also plagued with anxiety about gaining weight from being hungry all the time. I don’t see the doctor again until the day after Christmas, so I am just having to muddle through the best I can, but it is really hard. I feel like I am constantly fighting just to function at all. Even washing my hair or brushing my teeth seems too much for me most of the time and I have to force myself to do it. This level of lethargy is ridiculous, and sometimes I wonder how I’m alive at all.

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2 New Art Trading Cards, Mixed Media Collages

Here are two new, mixed media collage art trading cards. Both are for sale on my Ebay store page if anyone is interested 🙂 The first card was inspired by love, romance, and sensuality, and the second card was created partly just because I love wolves and partly because the new meds I’m on have been making me hungry ALL the time!

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Can You Keep a Secret?

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Can You Keep a Secret?
Written by: Maranda Russell

Can you keep a secret?
Will you hold it close,
so close that it vibrates
against your own heartbeat?

Will you bite your tongue,
your teeth slicing through
your taste buds,
leaving rows of bloody beads?

Will you lock pinkies
like we are kids once again,
with the monstrous shadows
chasing us back to adulthood?

Can you keep a secret?
I know you can, and I know you will
because the secrets you keep
loom even larger than mine.

Fighting Fear

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“Fighting Back from the Inside” drawing by Maranda Russell

Fighting Fear
Written by: Maranda Russell

I took fear by the hand
and shook him until I heard
the sound of his yellow bones
popping in and out of place.

I pushed him down the stairs,
his skull cracking
against the white, stone steps
on his way to the finale.

He hit the basement floor,
his form a worthless gray lump,
emitting the mocking voices
no muzzle can silence.

Still, I must close the door
at least one more time
and pretend not to hear.
So I do.