I don’t know what I would call this? A poem? It doesn’t qualify as a limerick. It’s just a little conversational example of my thoughts through some days. But I also wanted to include what I tell myself and some of the humor in it. The past month was brutal but I was realized I made it worse for myself. I withdrew from a lot and it wasn’t really for soul searching it was for other reasons. My husband wasn’t much help but I stopped blaming him for most of the issue. I had to pull myself out of the slump. I was afraid that if I fell further into it there would be no coming out. I’m getting there and forcing myself to find time for things I like to do. I included one of my Inktober doodles for this poem. I thought it was fitting.
I’m not normal, what is wrong with me?
-It’s ok, what is normal anyway?
I’m not society’s vision of beautiful?
-It’s ok, why do you want to be like everyone else?
I don’t make enough money.
-Are you comfortable, house, food, and a little extra for coffee?
I’m not adequate for another job.
-If you don’t try then you’ll never go anywhere?
Why do I question my own existence?
-Are you talking to me?