The Fog Between My Fingertips


Hollowness, loneliness

Black hole

No light at the top


No one saving me


No future

Just black dreams


Feels like a prison cell


Black fog

Feeling the fog between my fingertips



No treatments working?

No doctors helping?


What kind of life is this

Black death sentence

Written & copyright by Deb McCarthy


16 thoughts on “The Fog Between My Fingertips

    • cherished79 says:

      Thanks for your kind words. I actually wrote that poem referring to years ago when I was in a depressive ‘mess’. Didn’t know if I would ever recover or improve, and the docs didn’t have a solution either. Frankly, they scratched their heads often doling out ‘this and that’ med hoping they would strike it lucky. They were bozos, I was ill for 9 years! You wonder?


      • CrazyandSane says:

        Good grief! You know, when even people whom we put our hope in, like Doctors, fail us, the depression gets worse and we often feel as if we’ll NEVER recover!

        Wow, for 9 years….that’s so horrible. Depression swallows you up doesn’t it? Like you’ve fallen down a black well and cannot see anything, and feel totally locked in. It’s so tough. I hope you’re through the worst of it now…it’s a horrible condition! xx

        Liked by 1 person

        • cherished79 says:

          Yes, it’s a relief to be on the other side of darkness and relieved when another pdoc stepped into ‘save’ me from the idiot who was doing nothing but sending me for ECTs. Thanks for commenting. 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

          • CrazyandSane says:

            I love what you write. And I had the misfortune of being sent to a NEW psychiatrist the other day. OMG…he actually said to me ‘so what do you hope to gain by this meeting?’ Seriously??? So I answered in a sarcastic way, coz I was so peeved and alarmed, ‘Oh, how about fixing my fuking broken brain!’ Then a pack of fags fell out of his pocket, and so I then said ‘and how can I help YOU give up smoking?’…useless twit!

            Liked by 1 person

            • cherished79 says:

              Love it! The first psychiatrist I had was about 70, smoked his brains out (had smokes in suit pocket) and coughed his brains out at every visit.
              Anyways, he actually asked me, “So do think you have depression?” (between coughs including phlegm). Geeez, you tell me, goofball. Your new pdoc sounds promising! 😦


              • CrazyandSane says:

                hahaha! OMG that’s funny. I’m a bit behind on answering and writing of late, coz my daughter had a baby! Can’t believe I’m a granny! God, don’t feel old enough LOL…on the Psychiatrists, the useless twit with the greasy hair that I saw, finally called me and left a message to ‘discuss my assessment’. Oh for f…..sakes! ‘Discuss my assessment???? seriously???? are we now RE assessing my broken brain?? oh piss off to him. They’ll just hand out more stuff to shut me up. LOL. x x


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