Poetry Blogs (mental illness)

I wanted to do a poem today to provoke a thought or thinking about the insanity of taking drugs. I have known many people succumb to Heroin and painkillers, alcohol and it all seems so futile I myself suffered with addiction through mental illness. Its a terrible thing and very dark. So here is my attempt at describing this disease.

Bereft of feeling

Stare into the abyss
eyes burning...

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When you try your hardest you really do 

But your switches get the better of you 

It's not my fault I try and say but it still doesn't stop me pushing people away 

My actions speak louder than words but my actions aren't created by myself 

There all chemical imbalances that cause my mental health 

I say I'm sorry each time I mess up but there's only so many times people will he...

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On my fathers side,

They ignored the elephant

On the living room couch

And called it toughness.

This was how they turned

Whisky

Percocet

Wife and kids

Into therapy. 

This was how my cousin

Turned a belt into a noose

In his closet.

This was how they called 

my aunt the "bitter black woman" 

stereotype and how they saw

her charge to  dim

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Lost and Found  Pt 1

My life

my lost family

Ripped apart.

I curse the

f’n opiates.

Sectioned is

The new PC

name.

Locked up in this

‘Mad House’

Tis’

The same.

Nothing PC can

Be found.

Drugged up

On the floor

In a piss soaked

gown.  

                      Po

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The sun sets around this dirty glass.
Just a few more hours until I become someone new and forget who I was.
Im waiting for the fireworks but they'll surely never come.
There's no celebration for killing the demon that's been killing everyone.

You think a simple crucifix could fix this.
I don't think I can send my monster back to hell.
I've killed my insides I'm nothing more then a shell o...

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In the grate, the shivering flames
hungrily wrap their lips around logs
The boards above me creek
my wife haunting somewhere
the baby's hands reach out
wave before its sleeping eyes

The wind is howling...

The smiles on our faces as we galloped down the aisle
making sense of scattered photograph moments
but I can't remember why
can't think of anything but waiting
and doing everything...

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My mind is dishevelled, disorderly.

As unreliable as the damp cardboard

That contained a childhood treasure.

I unearthed it in my web-strewn attic –

The box, not my mind.

An old railway set, long remembered, but lost.

Its strength gone, the contents scattered.

Track and train departed, uncoupled

And bound for darker destinations.

A journey into the unknown...

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I am so very exhausted
I tried everything,  I really did
Still this darkness looms over me
Making the love and happiness hard to see
Everything is impossible to try to reach
This constant fight drains me like a leach
My limbs are so heavy, I can hardly move
Bouts of energy come far too little, and far too few
So I'm stuck in this position, as if I'm glued
And no this isn't the type of day...

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Would you believe me

If I told you the truth

Would you stay with me,

Or would you just leave?

Would you still feel 

The way that you do

If you saw me kneel

Before the demons so cruel?

I tried to escape

But it fell right through

It was never fate

What should I do?

I didn't mean to fail 

I did choose you

But the monsters fight

Harder than I'm able to

I...

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Give me a broken mirror.

Hide the blemishes and blotches

That impairs and disfigures.

Give me renewed youth.

Re-circuit my memory

Rewrite the truth.

Give me made up days.

Turn action to fiction

Blow my mind away.

Give me turning tides.

Give me caves and crevices

In which I can hide.

Give me light, give me dark

Give me dressings to hide

...

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You try to escape the demons

But they latch on way too tight,

Their claws digging into my body

And mind, with all their might.

Fighting is exhausting,

It physically and mentally drains.

But still I endure it, hoping

One day I will finally escape the pain.

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I'm sitting here, trapped, frozen in time

Head imploding, finally losing my mind

Nowhere to run, bound and confined

To the prison within, my unconscious mind.

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Each day, more exhausting than the last.

Time goes far too slowly, or too fast.

you're either extremely low, or elevated.

People either love you, or you're hated.

There is no middle ground

- no inbetween.

Everything is one extreme.

you're either Jekyll or you're Hyde.

It is a never ending fight.

You're a walking contradiction ,

With no explanation,

No cha...

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(I have written this piece to help you understand Bipolar Disorder, (and my writing) a mental illness little understood by the general community. 1 in 50 Australians suffer from this illness. I am one of those 50.)

I'm bipolar. Some say keep it private. Go public ?

What ever are you thinking of !

My response? How can you be expected to understand

this mental illness if it's n...

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Last Night

…(gemma)...Gemma…

    “Gemma!”  She snapped into consciousness, only partly.  Her head was pounding and her fingers felt swollen.

    “What time is it?” she murmured.  Her eyelids remained heavy still, but they opened wide enough to notice the thin rays of light streaming through the dorm room’s blinds.  Gemma shifted her body to face Alex.  He looked almost as groggy as s...

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25/10/11

So unpredictable.

So sharp and so cunning

Is the pain that run through me,

Hideous yet so stunning.

I want to keep it here, 

I want to feel it's cold aching

Blood spilling from me

My heart is still breaking

What if I want it to stop?

Please, leave me alone!

It'll be there. Waiting.

For me to decay down to bones. 

Maybe that's what I wa...

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Dissociative identity disorder, previously called multiple personality disorder, is usually a reaction to trauma as a way to help a person avoid bad memories.

Dissociative identity disorder is characterized by the presence of two or more distinct personality identities. Each may have a unique name, personal history, and characteristics.

Sorry to say that's not me or never has been ...

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A storm trapped in a rain drop

Hurricane wrapped in a wave

Hundred mile winds twisting within a breeze

Devastating quakes in every stone

Dirt speckled snow blanketed over bones

A forest of memories behind a cosmic window

Ash curls out into nebulous tendrils of purple and blue

A ghost of an echo

No longer able to self recognize

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Beige walls stand empty where original artworks once hung
A woman, beyond her years in mind and body, sits at her desk
Staring at a screen that, despite vast knowledge at her fingertips
Is empty
The cloud of cognizance that enveloped her has cleared
Ridiculed by those she trusted
"Over medicated"
No more pills
No more gange
Nothing to help control the demons within her mind
There is no feeling o...

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She said

I seemed brighter and

I was that day,

that week,

but my brightness

had a lid on it

because I couldn't let it

spill

unless I was alone and then

I could sing

and sing and sing

and grin

at the windows

and the cutlery

and laugh at the shape

of the front door

all angular and rigid

and trapped by lines

not like me

I was bright that day

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Once a darkness wrapped her soul,
A willow weeping, a devoid whole. 
Stole her hope, her pride, her lust. 
Pain twisted taking trust. 

She wandered vulnerable but free,
Deathly pale but not drug free. 
Chemically calmed, sedated, numb.
The only way to cope for some. 

Twisted visions of the truth,
Forever lost beauty and youth.
Broken wings no longer fly. 
Long ago she prayed to die....

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Ask for help,
They say
With quiet judgmental rebuke
So I ask
And then I plead
And deafness
Greets his friend
Stagnation.

Today
Means tomorrow.
Tomorrow,
Next week.
I have yet to see
What
"Within the year"
Means,
And it's been Two.

Each letter,
A careful trapeze,
Am I too sick?
Not sick enough?
The war waged on 
In my body.
They promised me
Soldiers
"Within the year."

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Great,

The bus,

Every morning indecisive and overwhelmed

Who should I sit by?

The question is,

Who would want to sit by you?

I mean, No one wants to,

And you know it.

Shut up…

That's not true.

I've got plenty of people who wouldn't mind me.

There’s the girl I sit next to in class

And we talk from time to time.

Oh, and don't forget the boy who waves hi to me i...

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Who am I?

Who are you?

Who are we?

We…

Us…

Me…

I.

I don't know who I am.

I don't know who you are.

I don't know who we are.

Are…

Were…

Am.

Am I me?

Am I you?

Am I we, us, them?

Them too.

Too many thoughts whirling in my mind.

Mind’s infected.

Infections of madness consuming me.

Me…

Us…

We…

I.

I thought I knew who I was.

I t...

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Idly walking my imaginary dog

on the wiley windy moor,

listening out for Cathy calling,

a game I’d played before.

Indulging imagination,

my head engulfed in thought,

I didn't see the kneeling wench.

So shocked,

my fist she caught. 

Into the heath she backward fell

out cold as cold could be,

my dog attracted by a smell

mistook her for a tree.

An...

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let's go on a march for the mentally ill
up at the front are those of good will
and them with a badge and minor symptoms- but still -
waving their banners and demanding of pills

while back in the tenements behind the sofas
are the frightened neurotics the papers call loafers
'pity them pity them' the crowd call in slur
reinforcing the stigma - that is for sure

we're winning the war for...

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Lifting The Lid.

dreaming
of Oberon and Titania
on this warm midsummer night

in the empty house
the attic was full of rats
and ablaze with light

stepping carefully
around the marbles
scattered across the floor

on the table
a pack of cards
with jokers and aces missing

a bowl of nuts
a plate of crackers
a drawer of loose screws

the rocking chair
stilled
by sawing off it...

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Craiglockhart (Not Yet Diagnosed Nervous)

When I kicked over the wheelchair
I couldn’t do the simplest task,
except the epileptic flailing
of my military antimasque.
Turning on the hissing gas-lamp
had me reaching for the mask.
You opened up my mind
and you didn’t even ask.

Sh-sh-sh shut the fuck up,
I think I’m going insane,
I’ve got all these bombs
going off in my brain.
I’m lik...

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If all you told were lies,

I heard only truth.

If manipulative were your motives,

I was putty in your hands.

If you used me for excitement,

I was thrilled for you.

If your emotions were all feigned,

I was your audience, suspended by the fiction.

If love you never felt,

I loved it for you,

And if conscience, you had none,

I was moral for us both.

Do you hide...

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Free

My name is juvenile delinquent

I’m losing my mind now,

it happens again and I can’t do anything about it.

Anxiety, anger, confusion, depression and loneliness

fight to get a foothold in my beleaguered mind.

Just about to go mad, insanity beckons,

don’t let my neurosis lead to psychosis.

I don’t want to be a Section 20, locked up forever

with only bars as my com...

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In Pyjamas creased like discarded paper

Shuffling aimlessly on flaccid feet

Come the fresh patients to the Psychiatry machine

Eyes stare into space in obscure realms of fantasy

With word salad chatter so wayward and bewildered

For morning medication they agitatedly wait

Chlorpromazine drugged psychotics limbs tremoring like jelly

Heads full of voices torturous ...

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In Pyjamas creased like discarded paper

Shuffling aimlessly in worn down slippers on flaccid feet

Come the fresh patients commited to the psychiatry machine

Eyes stare intently into space in obscure realms of fantasy

With word salad jabber so wayward and bewildered

For morning medication they agitatedly wait

Chlorpromazine drugged psychotics limbs tremoring like je...

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Mental Health Incarceration

Shuffling aimlessly in worn down slippers

Come the fresh fodder for the Psychiatric Machine

Eyes staring intently into obscure realms of Fantasy

With word salad chatter so wayward and bewildering

For morning medication they agitatedly wait

Chlorpromazine drugged Psychotics, li...

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“Got 10p for a cup of tea?”

“If you show us where you can get one for that price,

I'll give you a quid”

He never did...

Irregular Apocalypse.

Lonely and irksome.

The bitter glow of jaundice

tears at society's rustic chains,

one tragedy at a time.

“The Freemasons took my children,

they took my baby.”

Now she's hopping magic buses,

...

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The learning nerves!

A poem inspired by a confidence and self esteem

building course attended at Mhist in Bolton.

Destiny and desires designed the darkness into an eventual tangle,

of falsities and fears with which we wrangle!

Thoughts founded on falsehoods and threats that flowed like water to the deepest depths,

fantasies we fear are facts that leave us of true h...

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It was a public madness:

comments not making sense, snow-flaking words on photos shared by friends of friends.

Oblique comments passed by lookers on. ‘WTF’s she on about?’ and ‘get her tole’ and passive vaguings mentioning getting better  for the kids.

 And I sit and mourn her while she lives. Watch it huge and vast.

Remembering my own lost year

and feel a little anxio...

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My father was a survival expert:

Deserts, swamps, mountains,  jungles.

Hunger and thirst were trials inflicted

To toughen up his men for the real thing.

His signature line was:

The bugs will get you faster than the bullets!

Dad’s harsh regime saved many lives

In World War II combat arenas.

My father was my hero.

During the war

My mother bore him ...

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