The Armory

I always tell myself

That I get depressed

Around this time of year

But it’s always

Whatever time of year

I’m in right now

Basically

I’m always depressed

And I tell myself

It’s time of year

I used to tell myself

It was location

My family used to live

Down near Manton Avenue

And then I moved

Over by the Armory

Right after I got married

And I’ve been here ever since

Drove my husband nuts

Saying--

Why can’t we live up in the woods?
Away from people?
I hate being near all these people

He got so sick of hearing me

Bitch about it

That he took off three years in

And I haven’t heard from him since

Got sick of me being unhappy

And didn’t know how to make me happy

And probably thought to himself--

Shouldn’t I be making her happy?

But he couldn’t

And it wasn’t his fault

I used to say--

It’s this state

It’s Providence

It’s where I’m at

But then I took a trip

Down to Florida

For a week

And I missed home so bad

I thought I was going to bust

And that was even more depressing

Came home and started to think--

Maybe it’s summer

I get sad in the summer

It’s probably summer

But then summer would be over

And I’d be in even worse shape

Thinking about how

Everyone was moving on

Going back to school

Sending their kids to school

Making plans

And I was just sitting in my house

By the armory

Watching it all happen

From my window

Sunday afternoons were the worst

Unbearable

Used to sleep through most of them

Winter would come

And people would say--

Oh, it’s seasonal depression

But what if it’s every season?

Then what do you call it?

Just depression, right?

Or something worse?

Spring wasn’t so bad

I don’t mind it

Except for that

It reminds me

Summer’s coming

Lately I go for walks

And that helps a little

But I don’t know why

Maybe it’s the exercise

Or the fresh air

Or just because it’s something

I think I’m supposed to be doing

I walk past all the houses

And I hear people talking

Cause their windows are open
Or I see people working on cars

Or riding bikes

And I feel like there’s nothing much

Going on in the world

That I’ve been missing

And that makes me feel okay

Until I get home

And double lock the door

I see all this nice stuff

And then I lock myself

Away from it

And I don’t know why

It’s all about knowing why

Or not knowing why

That’s what takes you

From low-level sad

To outright despair

The not knowing

The not knowing what it is

Inside you

That’s broken

And how

It got that way