From Despair to Hope and Healing: One Woman’S Journey in Poem

By Barbara K. Mezera

From Despair to Hope and Healing presents a collection of poetry written over two decades by author Barbara Mezera. It chronicles the journey of a woman struggling to keep her depression under control and searching for meaning in her job, her career, her family, and her relationships.

Although her verses are dark at times, there is always a glimmer of hope that someday she would fit in somewhere, make a difference in someones life, and find her own fulfillment and enjoyment. The poems are both personal and universal. In works such as Final Solution and Struggling, Mezera captures the loneliness and desolation of depression. She also offers poems like July 25, 1986, celebrating the joyous birth of her nephew, and The Road to Recovery, considering her long climb to hope and healing.

With this collection, Mezera steps outside her comfort zone to share her poetry with the hope that her words may touch and help others who are facing struggles as she has.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Inspiring Voices
• Release date: Jan 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781462408382

Barbara K. Mezera

Barbara K. Mezera was born in southwestern Wisconsin and grew up on a farm. She earned master’s degrees in clinical laboratory science and in special education. When not teaching special needs high school students, she enjoys traveling, biking, reading, quilting, and knitting.

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Copyright © 2013 Barbara K. Mezera.

Interior Illustration Credit: James J. Lynes

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ISBN: 978-1-4624-0837-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4624-0838-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921844

Inspiring Voices rev. date: 1/8/2014

Contents

Section 1   Wrestling with the Big D

Section 2   Family Matters

Section 3   Health Matters Too

Section 4   What I Do

Section 5   On Being Shy

Section 6   Relationships

Section 7   Random Musings

Introduction

Life is a journey, different for everyone. Yet we all deal with problems and joys on this journey. I reflected on my journey in poetry. As I slowly shared my poetry with others, they insisted that I share it with a wider audience. I never felt my poetry was that good or that important, but every time I shared it, it seemed to touch the people who listened to it or read it.

With this book, I am stepping way outside my comfort zone in the hope that the people urging me to share more of my poetry with a wider audience are right, that the poems do touch people and that I have something to say.

Section 1

Wrestling with the Big D

Depression—or as I prefer to call it, The Big D—has been a companion on my life journey since I was nine. As a teenager, my answer was to shut down and shut out everyone, preferring death to living. By the grace of God, I never carried out my suicide plans. When I turned thirty, I sought help. It took almost ten years to find a medication combination that consistently worked. At that point, talk therapy with my fourth therapist began to make sense and make a difference. My poetry became an integral part of my therapy and recovery from the Big D.

Anger

It hides inside

Until it comes outside.

Crash! Bang! Boom! Crunch!

An aura surrounds me,

Swirling, clawing, and scratching.

It scares everyone away. Cowering and crouching,

Tiptoeing on cat’s feet,

Hoping to avoid the red-hot blast,

Searing white, eyes flashing.

Out of my way or take a thrashing.

The Demon and I

He rides my back,

Making me do foolish and crazy things.

Then I hate myself, and he gloats.

Sometimes he’s easy to shake off.

Other times it takes days,

Or a week or two.

Life is a real pain then.

Nothing goes right.

Things get broken.

I want to be violent.

It’s not socially acceptable,

So I wage an inner battle.

Fighting and sometimes hurting myself.

Someday maybe he and I will be friends.

Death

The Grim Reaper comes to claim us all—

Some in the spring of their lives,

Others in the winter of their lives.

Some with a crash or bang in broad daylight,

Others calmly and gently in the dark of the night.

But claim us all, he does.

Escape

I love it.

I’ve done a lot of it.

My favorite ways—

Sleeping, reading, movies,

Daydreaming, drinking.

Sleep twelve to sixteen hours.

If that fails, read.

If that too fails,

Go to a movie.

Should that fail,

Daydream.

When they’ve all failed,

There is always alcohol.

With enough alcohol,

Escape is guaranteed.

At least for a while.

Counseling

Once I was told I needed it, but I rejected it.

It only works if the counselee wants it.

My friend is still in it.

Has it helped?

Yes, no, maybe.

Maybe she understands things better.

Maybe she accepts things more.

It’s scary, frightening to be told you need it.

Then years later watch a friend go through it.

You wonder why some people seemingly survive and cope without it,

While others would be dead except for it.

What makes some people so resistant,

While others are so susceptible to life’s problems?

We all have our own.

Why do some people cope,

While others turn to dope?

Therapy

Journaling about me.

Journeying to find me.

Discovering me.

Disclosing me.

Hurt

Rude, belligerent, insolent, sharp,

Angry, frustrated, confused, bewildered.

Hurting, hurting, hurting.

Scared, shy, frightened, withdrawn,

Silent, tense, upset, reserved.

Hurting, hurting, hurting.

Crash

Crash! Bang! Boom!

Is how I feel inside.

Nothing is right; nothing is good.

But it was—a week or so ago.

I missed my usual summertime crash.

It has caught up to me now.

I’m angry; I’m sad.

And there is no reason why.

That is the beauty of the Big D.

So much for a free year.

Guess I don’t deserve one of them.

Guess I’m worthless, hopeless, too.

Yet I don’t believe either—on a good day.

True, the changes came too fast—when they finally arrived.

True, my students are a handful.

Yet I look at them and think, They are good kids.

How can I help them?

Right now, I feel as if I am failing them.

Part of me hopes it’s not true; part of me fears it is.

Yet I must go on. Go on for those I love.

Go on for those who love me. Go on for my students,

Despite the challenge, despite the frustration, despite feeling a failure.

But that’s my depressed self speaking.

No one has given up on me or my kids.

Sure, I have lots to learn.

But people are tolerant of that; people want to help.

But because of