Steven Scroggie
Bio
Freelance neurophysiological scientist
Current focus: shame and dissociative Identity Disorder
Stories (1/0)
The Feeling of Depression
The Feeling of Depression: I’ve severed all feeling to the ones I love and this wasn’t an act from above; I thought I could just shove everyone out, and get rid of the all the self doubt. In my head I am dead from all the dread I’ve led and the end result is I’ve coated my heart in lead. (I wish I was smart as TED and not as holy as Ned) but Isn’t this what I wanted? There must be a side of me that’s haunted. My reality is the outcome of my actions, it’s like my personality’s split into fractions and I’m left misguided by distractions. Who am I and why or Should I bother asking, we’re all gonna die? fuck man I need to cry I have no alibi cause my entire life is a lie. I hold on to my childhood memories because they’re the remedies to my treachery. When I’m a century, living as an elderly I want my pedigree to look back and be proud of me. I’m crazy, I’m lazy and every little thing phases me. The shear fear of looking myself in the mirror drags tears to the back of my ears. Maybe one day I’ll get my shit together until then I’m sporadic as the weather, I have no idea how to control what I feel and I deal with it in such a way that’s surreal, maybe I should pray and kneel before I start spinning out of control like a steel wheel. I’ve lost traction in my early years, but that doesn’t mean I have broken gears. My mind may be on the Frits and it wants to call it’s quits but I haven’t given up because I still have my wits.... Just don't give a shit.
By Steven Scroggie6 years ago in Poets