Savage Ocean

I don't know whats to become of me

I've been out of the psych ward for three weeks

Been in partial hospitalization for eight

Been in free fall for one year

And been fighting this battle for decades.

Drugs almost killed me as an adult

But thank god I found them as a suicidal 12-year-old

Otherwise, there might not be a me in this world...

And now I'm grateful for my sobriety

I have an army of sisters behind me

But it was only a matter of time, before this brain chemistry of mine, pulled me back into the abyss...

Saturating my brain in opiates is no longer an option so I face my demons with no crutch

I get beat down each day but somehow still keep popping back up

Like a bright orange buoy, in a savage ocean, like some relentless, demented, type of devotion,

To staying visible, and on top,

Even though every day I so badly I want it to stop that I think about ending my own life constantly...

I remember pointing pistols at bumps in the night

Caught in the grips of fight or flight

Praying if I pull the trigger I miss

Because I no longer have control over this

I need a miracle

I have been praying for so long

And I'm still out here, floating...

Caught in the grips of the savage ocean

The shell of my being eroded

By the stinging of the salt water and whatever else the tide may bring

The smothering, sinking, incessantly unforgiving...

And yet, I am reminded of the smoothest rocks on the shore,

Made that way, edges softened, by the churning of the storm...

There are many of us, silenced, by stigma and shame

So this is an SOS, please hear my voice, however, strained

Just for today, I will hold on tighter, as tight as my weary hands will allow

And just for today, I will share my pain,

Because pains ultimate utility is to help someone else

I just want you to know that you are not alone

And I hope my progress has shown,

Because since writing this poem,

I have gotten help...

And found a safer home, within myself...

And I owe it to a community

In the same boat as me

So please reach out

Because you don’t need to suffer alone

There is recovery, there is hope,

And you are not alone.

Tess Bergin

"Tesstamona"

Written in March 2017.

Published on Vocal April 2019.