A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Category: Words from 2018 (page 1 of 4)

ASK TWICE…

This is the link to my most recent freelance blog. Ultimately everyone suffers, we all have lows and we all have highs, yet the frequency of either cannot be predicted nor helped. It is always nice to know that someone has your back, I don’t mean the people that talk to you once a year but the people whom are constantly and consistently in communication and contact with you, your genuine loved ones, your real friends for life, your blood bound and cherry picked, dearest, special family. We all get busy, swept up and often drift away from one another from time to time life is tough, we are all fighting and surviving, we may not know or notice when someone needs support but we should, there is no excuse. Let us not wait for a crisis before we reach out. Let us be there for one another, truly, whole heartedly, 24/7. Let’s not assume people are OK let’s know and be sure. Reach out and make your love known, show an interest, stay upto date and if there is a problem, let us intervene early and not too late. Ask Twice…

https://www.time-to-change.org.uk/blog/10-steps-asking-twice-if-you-feel-someone-isnt-fine

I Know

I whisper,

But my message is strong,

From witness,

And endurance,

From my sole,

I sing our song.

I step forward,

To escape where I am coming from,

But overcome with stillness,

I cannot transit in the right direction.

Shattered glass,

That stranger is not my reflection,

Not even a resemblance,

My cocoon now a burden,

Heavy,

Fragile,

And old,

I cannot manoeuvre this creature that is apparently I,

And even get out of bed.

I feel alone in a room full of people,

I once bloomed under the spotlights,

And waltzed around the room,

Charming,

And delightful,

But this spiteful cognitive impediment,

Grows by the day,

All consuming,

Leaving me changed,

My old self defied the law of gravity,

Evaporation seemingly permanent,

Just drifted away one day,

But my soul,

Thoughts,

Emotions,

Still weigh heavily,

Anchored.

My intentions to comfort others,

Rather than seek Solace,

Are a selfless and natural act.

Retribution from a past life perhaps,

Have lead me down this long and winding path.

I know pain,

I know anxiety,

I know depression,

I know psychosis,

I know dissociation,

I know BPD,

I know ADHD,

I know.

If the endurance of this suffering has one silver lining,

It means that I can hear you without judgement,

I offer you my hand,

You can lean on my shoulder,

And together we can soldier you through to the next chapter.

I must physically let you go at this stage,

Let you take flight,

To help yourself and others fight,

But will think of you always,

As what we share,

Enables a deep connection,

A bond that cannot be broken,

Makes us one,

An ode to Lady Chatterley and her Lover…

An affair is an affair,

No matter how discreet,

And softly spoken,

Deceit is deceit,

A break of vow,

A break of trust,

Relentless,

Lady Chatterley lay her trap,

And trip trap did the woodsman go,

Love lost,

Lust gained,

Heads lost,

In heatful debauchery,

Hasteful in Lust,

Denying another’s Trust,

Disregarding all moral compass,

No matter how discreet,

One can always smell the stench of deceit.

Naughty Girl by Cleo Holloway “18 – SoundCloud

Listen to Naughty Girl by Cleo Holloway “18 by noone adiaryfromnoone #np on #SoundCloud

My little sister is my angel in human form. We have a stronger bond than most syblings, despite our 25year age gap. When we are together, sometimes she matures whilst I shed a little of my maturity and we meet in the middle. She is intelligent, well mannered, funny and of cause extremely talented. Please check out this song and share, share, share… Its one for the kids but adults seem to be loving it too! Click the link and see/hear…

Wreak Of Mortality…

There is a longing in my heart,

That weighs me down so,

In sluggish ways I drag behind,

Those with conquered dreams,

Fortune,

Love,

And bliss.

As I miss out on all of this,

I burn a fever of desire,

Cramp with intolerance,

Plagued with ill health,

Preventing me from blossoming into my true self.

Ailments anchor me,

Fractures imprison me,

My tune is off key,

I wreak of mortality,

As I claw my way through the storm.

A little flame burns on,

Not yet engulfed,

Nor defeated,

But the tide drifts further away each day,

The odds are not in my favour,

I may be a fighter,

But a betting man would gamble me away.

To the melancholy strings of my heart,

I sway,

As I battle on,

Weak or strong,

It seems that I am not yet done.

Poo!

Why do we suddenly become,

All Conservative when it comes to discussing issues about the bum?

The topic of “POO”,

Is an unnecessary taboo,

Despite it being something that all living things do!

Well at least we are supposed to…

Minutes turn into hours,

Hours into day’s,

Day’s into weeks,

And then suddenly over a month,

I have chronic constipation,

Faecal impaction,

No problems with number three’s,

But impossible to do number two’s,

At all

Or at least in the way,

Or as regular as I am supposed to.

Laxatives,

Enemas,

Scans,

X-rays,

Bed to bed,

Ward to ward,

I am full to the brim,

It’s no wonder these day’s that I struggle to be slim,

It’s clinging,

And just won’t pass through!

Hunger is demanding,

My body has no understanding,

That what goes in,

Must come out.

The pain is so intense,

To the nurses,

I shout for help,

The doctors rush away,

For only small amounts of time do they appear to stay,

Spouting jargon that I do not understand,

Asserting their authority,

Allocating command,

Check up,

Check out,

Within a flash,

The consultation is over,

And I cannot connect the pieces of the plan,

I desperately suffer this intense dry drought

I hope for movement soon,

As I sit alone in my my hospital room,

Awaiting the explosion,

The big boom,

From the ticking time bomb,

When all shall be revealed and restored.

This year was supposed to be hospital free for me,

And this far it has been,

Mentally,

But sods law,

This time I have been captured for physicality.

I vow to go soon enough,

I know that I must

I am not purposefully holding anything back,

To heal,

To become fully reset,

I must empty all,

With the eliminated back up,

To become restored,

With no more trapped wind,

No more liquid,

No more mush,

Motion when I push,

Just healthy solid stools,

With out prompting medication,

For the pain,

And regular relief,

The good old fashioned way

I just want to release.

Some people wish for diamonds,

Gold,

Money,

And pearls,

At this very moment,

I just want to poo!

Destined For Disaster…

Staring at the wall again,
Trying to remember when,
Everything was so good back then,
Looking back at photo’s,
Trawling through social media,
The filtered photo’s deceive ya,
Me and the Girls,
Me and the Boys,
Cocktails,
Mocktails,
Endless joys,
Youth,
Freedom,
Expression,
Creativity,
Power,
Sexy,
Sassy,
PARTY!
Those years were golden,
I now understand the phrase,
But gradually everyone has grown,
Moved on,
Progressed to the next phase,
Transitioned in only the best ways,
Detached from the old days,
And the only one left in pain,
Sad and angry,
Is me!
Stuck in a rut,
The door hammered shut,
I am so far removed from them,
They don’t bat an eyelid,
But even if they did,
They don’t see,
They don’t recognise me,
I am the lone soldier,
That basks in the memories,
That they did leave.
How is it fair,
That those who have done me wrong,
Have moved forward,
Happy and strong?
I was insignificant then,
And I am insignificant now.
Staring at the wall again,
Straining to remember when,
There were no voices.
What shall I do?
Take some pills and end it?
Make myself bleed to control it?
Talk to someone?
I cannot.
If things don’t mend and positively change,
I just don’t think I can go on.
Anchored by trauma,
Separating me from old dreams,
Repelling dreams a new,
I loose my desire to push for a break through,
I cannot foresee anything,
I feel so weak,
Not strong,
Perhaps I was destined for despair all along!?

Ink Aid

Write down everything,
Get it off your chest,
The skill is to release,
And not ingest,
The tools of ink and paper are merely an aid,
The practice of processing,
Acknowledging,
And accepting is the true skill,
Cry not when your ink runs out,
Do not get upset,
Scream nor shout,
Just breath & it will all come out!

Natures Duress

Thunder and Lightening,
Shooting out from my chest,
My mind is overtired,
And I am in desperate need of some rest.
Panic is my duress,
The storm is the symptom,
The bursting from my chest,
More than a feeling,
This physical torture,
This trauma,
This disorder,
The catalyst is stress.
The test,
I thought,
Was to initiate control,
To appear less of a mess,
But that is just suffocation,
Enabling imprisonment,
And suffering in silence,
Do not contemplate,
Or over compensate,
Let it all out,
Let it go,
The energy will release,
Warrant you or not,
The art of manipulation,
Would be an over compensation,
And it may take some time,
Some embarrassment,
Some challenges,
Many sleepless nights,
Brain freeze,
And much self reflection,
To come to realise that,
A Panic Attack,
Is natures scream!
A vicious beast,
With venomous fangs,
And claws like daggers,
Anxiety,
It will come without invitation,
And it will not be silenced,
Think as to why it is happening,
Not how to stop it,
And you may find the answer to both.

BBC Radio4 11am Friday 20/07/18

I want the topic of mental health to be accepted. For it to be considered normal and understood by all, young, old, gay, heterosexual, LGBT, black, white, all of the above and more, with absolutely no exception. As easy as the concept that we humans understand, and as mankind we accept unanimously; the Sun brings day and the Moon brings night! May there one day be a global acknowledgement that #mentalillness though it may sometimes be invisible, it is very much real, vast, powerful, all consuming, unavoidable, even arguably be contagious, with many variables at the roots, nature, nurture, genetics, there is one thing we know for sure… absolutely no one is immune, so let’s get honest and acquainted… how else may we learn and the become familiar!?
As noone adiaryfromnoone I am just trying to put some light where it is dark, share my truth and experience, comfort those who feel like they are misunderstood and alone, be truthful in honour of those who feel they must hide away, fly the flag for my fellow sufferers, inform the professionals from an emotional and less text book angle, educate the clueless pillars chosen to lean on. Let us not be ashamed. Let us not suffer alone. Let people gain knowledge before they judge and criticise. Let’s start with communication. Listen up…
“Black Girls Don’t Cry”

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