Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Losing It

CLICK HERE TO HEAR AUTHOR READ


I may be losing it.

My marbles I mean.


How does one know 

if they're losing their marbles?


Will you tell me if something is off?

Because reality is if you're losing it 


you usually don't know yourself.

You need the ones around you who care


to tell you. They know you better,

in that respect, than you know yourself. 


They notice details, spot changes.

But some will decide it's best


not to say anything because they care. 

I need you to tell me because for me


a mind is like an aqualung

and we're divers in dark suffocating depths


in this buddy system, each of us equipped 

with our own way to breathe,


tanks strapped to our backs, masks on,

we send signals, I wave at you, you at me,  


it's the best we can do in this blue ether -

the craggy reefs and wrecks attract 


species of startling colours and forms, 

life like ours. I could be sinking, or rising, 


or I could be suspended in place,

it's hard to tell at any moment 


in this weightless world where up is down

and down is up, I need you as my anchor,


you know how I was before   

and who I am now.

2 comments:

Ken Stollon said...

Is this a poem about "going crazy" in general or about "Alzheimer's/Dementia"? My own stage in life and invested fears immediately assumed the latter. Talk about the reader's perspective! From my experience with people suffering from Alzheimer's/Dementia, though, it seems that they usually know when they are "losing it" (i.e., they don't have to rely on others to tell them that they are losing it). This indeed is one of the heartbreaking aspects of "losing it" to Alzheimer's/Dementia ... that you kind of know when it's happening, and are powerless to do anything about it.

Nonetheless the poetic idea that we need each other, that we need our loved ones, to help us determine our sanity is a powerful and touching notion.

B. Glen Rotchin said...

I started writing it thinking about creeping dementia - unfortunately I have been seeing it in people close to me lately - and finished writing the poem thinking about my own sanity. What I’ve seen in the people close to me is that in the very early stages of dementia it doesn’t seem like they are aware of what is happening, or they are in denial and makes excuses for their temporary lapses, attribute it to natural forgetfulness etc. and it’s only their closest loved ones who see it for what it is.