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 ’17 (page 2 of 9)

Mercy

Prepared for battle,
Dressed in the finest armour,
All I want is to surrender,
But when the draw bridge comes down,
I cannot make a sound,
Voice box locked,
Frozen,
I stand,
Forgetting all training,
Deaf to command,
I pray that they will be quick,
To slaughter,
And dream of being let be,
It sounds like thunder,
As the army rushes towards me,
I fear no injury,
And pray for fatality,
As I believe that will finally set me free,
Self defence,
I prepare to attack,
But I do not want that!
Muscle memory protects me,
Yet permits me from freeing this captivity,
Oh how I pray that they will quickly kill me.
No blow or fight could hurt more than I already do,
I am tired,
Mercy let me pass,
I beg you.

Dedicated to Kaz Foncett

The purpose to all fights is to conquer,
To win,
To beat the opponent,
The threat,
The enemy,
Regardless of where the substance begins,
Whether the catalyst be,
Religion,
Addiction,
Ill health,
Politics,
Financial crisis,
Oil,
Land,
sea,
Or,
Something petty,
There’s always at least two sides,
Striving for victory,
Only one side can win,
Making history.
Turning a blind eye to some if it,
Is easy when you are not directly part of it,
No amount of ignorance,
Or swag,
Can avoid when things get personal,
Really bad.
Lives lost,
At what cost!?
Some fights are so unrealistic,
To break war over diamonds and gold,
How materialistic.
The bigger congregations always seem to win.
Fighting for God is surely a sin,
I am not in understanding of some people’s mentality,
It is baffling,
Warranting inflicting havoc,
Chaos,
And pain on another being,
To attack,
Just because they think different,
Don’t accommodate,
Or understand,
The confinement of peace within free will.
The worst type of fight,
Is when one must fight themself,
Usually within the realms of ill health,
When our mentality,
Physicality,
And immune system,
Declares war from within,
Attack us from beneath the skin.
The big,
“C”,
Our biggest enemy,
Takes way to many,
Young,
Old,
Men,
Women,
LGBT,
This poison ruins everyone and everything,
No status,
Wealth,
Nor bribe,
Can make you exempt,
We have learnt ways to try and prevent,
But no theory is yet one hundred percent,
Cancer is against all,
It is vile,
Cruel and always wants to win,
It is the test of all tests,
That I cannot fully understand,
Because from that I am not suffering.
I do know how it feels,
When a medical enemy creeps up,
Often silently,
Most untimely,
From somewhere deep within.
I know,
And I have seen,
Witnessed strong individuals fighting,
Their heads sink,
In a spin,
Constantly crying,
Helpless,
Relying on the Doctors and nurses,
Reaching out spirituality,
To eradicate bad spirits and curses,
To break the rotten chain,
Latched onto their web of mentality.
Loved ones,
Treading on eggshells not sure what to say,
What they can or should do,
Stiff upper lip,
Trying to appear solid and strong,
A pillar for the sick to lean upon,
Encouraging them to keep pushing on.
Oh how brave such casualties are,
Oh how clever the pharmaceutical scientists,
And medics are,
But oh how brave are all of the sick,
But the ones with the,
“Big C”…
Everyday putting up with needles,
Quarantine,
Transfusions,
Vomit,
Hospitals,
Operations,
And bad news,
Sickness is a war that we don’t choose,
And so it is most disappointing when you loose.
Thankfully it does not always play out like that,
People do fight,
Inspire,
Shine,
And live on,
Super strong,
With a little help,
Strength,
And faith,
Put your mind to it and,
You may just get that chance to move on.
My friend is exactly that someone,
Blessed with beauty,
Brains,
And creativity,
A modern day women,
An asset to society,
But now,
Even though she is sick,
She still knows how to handle,
And work It,
She knows what she wants,
And will fight hard to get it,
She is more than worth it.
How she copes,
I personally hope to never know,
But whole heartedly,
I hope this monster quits,
And let’s her go,
Girls got songs to sing,
Fashion to model,
A husband to love,
A dog to snuggle,
A family,
And great friends,
This is not her time to go,
My girl still needs time to shine,
And so to all the powers that be,
I implore you,
That door needs to stay open and so she can walk through,
Turning her back on you,
It’s not her time to depart,
And you know it’s true,
She has so much more to do,
So let her come through,
Return to the world she once knew,
Before she crossed paths with you,
Worry not,
She will never forget you,
But will be as proud as punch,
For beating,
Surviving,
Escaping,
And winning,
Because she is not deserving,
Of all of this suffering!

Escaping Tomorrow…

Pitch black,
Panic attack.
The chains way me down,
Both in wait and in sound.
The lead like a noose,
Restricts me from movement.
Even if set loose,
Gates surround me,
Draped in barb wire,
They forbid me,
There is no escape!
All sounds are shrill,
Beckoning me to kill,
To kill myself,
Release myself.
Vocal chords crushed,
And brain power zapped,
I am in no fit shape for combat.
I cannot escape alone,
But I am stuck on my own.
Friends and family all light years away,
And so unassumingly I pray,
For this monster to quicken in pursuing me,
And so I can melt away.
Escaping tomorrow,
And forgetting about yesterday.

This link shows you the disappointing broken communication between patients and professional help in today’s society. Around 10% of people with Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder/ Borderline Personality Disorder die from suicide, I hope that you agree that those statistics are way to high! Please share this pink and help me raise awareness about seeking help and not receiving it. This link in the mental health system is broken, please help me try to fix it!?
On Friday 27th October, I reached out to my GP in person and Community Psychiatric Nurse on tge phone, disclosing to both, that I had suicidal and intrusive thoughts. I was told that help would call me that very same evening by tge GP. It got to 90m and i had not received contact. After initiating a further three calls to the crisis team, it took over fifteen hrs for me to receive a call back! This was unacceptable. It needs to change. I did my best, but certainly did not receive it in any away, shape or form. The prospect of how many lives could be lost in that time scares me!

SOCIAL MEDIA DOWN (said with a frown)…

When social media becomes inaccessible,
living life feels impossible,
What is there left to do,
If one cannot like,
Or send a GIF,
My Facebook is down,
I was not prepared for this,
Imagine all the selfies that you are going to miss,
My endless links to poetry,
Access to converse with me,
My Facebook is down,
I felt I must explain,
As to why I may not reply,
Or react to you,
Believe me it is not in vain,
I can access nothing not,
Therefor I cannot even troubleshoot,
Or bloody complain!

You Know Me Mentally…

Some of you don’t know me,
Perhaps some of you do,
Perhaps some of you will,
Perhaps some of you won’t,
In a physical sense I mean,
Not sexual,
But sensual,
A strong connection,
Beyond face to face
Or rubbing shoulders,
We share mindfulness,
All of my readers,
You know me mentally,
You are on this journey with me,
It’s long
And tough,
But you keep coming back,
And I really appreciate that!
My honesty is for everyone,
To learn,
Share,
Connect,
And see,
How ill mental health can be.
My self appointed mission,
Is to share the stuff others don’t or wont say or see,
With you by my side,
I do not mind the vulnerability,
Of sharing what is happening to me,
Because I may inspire some,
But I am empowered by you,
You are my light in the dark,
My anchor in the sea,
You give me the gift of stability,
Communicating with you gives me clarity,
Our unity,
Helps me own up to being me,
Not the false person that society dictates that I should be,
This website right here,
I speak of nothing but the truth,
No sugar coating,
Filter,
Or honesty proof,
This is my story,
Who I am,
How you can really get to know me,
No time or distance can get in the way,
This website says all I have to say.

Happier without me..

Treading on eggshells most of my youth,
Conscious of others emotions,
I withdrew from sharing my truth.
Walking on a tightrope throughout adolescents,
Withholding from disobedience,
Out of respect.
Missing out on being young and care free,
Experimental,
Testing every boundary,
Unknowing that such characteristics are essential,
For ones development,
In order to become a wholesome being.
I can reflect,
Analyse,
And try to process,
But never go back,
As time for me stands still,
The hands of the clock keep ticking forward,
Everyone seems to be on a different path than I,
And I cannot help but wonder why?
Did I create this distance?
This parting between us?
Is this my punishment for wanting to die?
Suicidal behaviour is not based on a selfish lie,
But a complex compulsion,
Bigger than you or I,
Not to attention seek,
Not to gain pity,
But a desperate attempt to drain all sorrow,
And woes away,
A chance to wake from agony,
To sleep in peace forevermore.
I mean not to cause you pain,
And I wish I could explain,
None of this stops my love for you,
And I must accept that you can react in anyway that you want to,
To freeze me out now,
To make an easier good bye?
Seemingly a popular strategy?
Unfortunately,
The more you exclude me,
The weaker I become,
The gates and walls around me crumble,
Each time you drift away,
As we don’t speak,
All I have to hear is what the voices,
You come and go,
But they never stray,
And I alone must endure the horrible things that they do and say!
Watching you walk away,
Detach yourselves,
With no place for me,
Makes leaving this life more appealing,
But most of the time,
That is just a pain wrenching feeling,
Only when very unwell,
When this earth turns to hell,
And I see nothing,
Hear nothing,
Feel nothing,
But,
Pain,
Pain,
Pain,
Do I attempt to leave this mortal plane.
I am tiered of fighting,
And fighting alone,
You seem stronger and happier,
Without the weight of me in your zone,
The pictures,
The trips,
The days out,
Those happy moments,
You are happier without me,
And so I know if I leave,
You will continue to be!

TRIPPLE THREAT!!!

They are clicking for him,
They are clapping for her,
And I am just sitting in the audience.
I wish that I could get up on stage,
Shine in the spotlight,
Share my thoughts,
With word,
And song,
But I ain’t strong,
The stage,
Once my home,
Is now often a place that I run from.
It’s not that I have nothing to say,
I just feel past it,
And so I sit watching,
Rotting with decay.
A waste of talent some might say.
If you asked me twenty years ago,
I never thought that I would end up this way.
I have been the only cast member in a one woman show,
Performed in front of thousands you know,
But my material these days,
It’s not a show,
It’s real life,
My life,
Exposed,
I have no shame in sharing my woes,
I want people to connect with me,
To inform people about how mental illness grows,
Where it can come from,
Where it often goes,
But there is a frog in my throat,
A cats got my tongue,
My heart is beating fast,
I am dripping in sweat,
What if I belch,
Or projectile vomit when I open my mouth?
That’s just the upper part of my body,
Pretty soon,
It will be loud gas from down there,
I bet,
Not the ideal triple threat,
Singing,
Acting,
And farting,
Not dancing in the way that you would hope and expect,
Belly dancing in the bowel region is not a talent that I know of yet.
With all of this anxiety,
I cannot concentrate,
Let alone recite and perform,
But the writer in me has been born,
Self-doubt,
And my insecurities have not stopped that,
And so if you like what you read,
Please keep coming back,
And share my details with a friend,
How about that!?

Destined Fatality…

I do not desire immortality,
Yet there is brutality,
In the unknown of our destined fatality!
Some have claimed to pull back during transition,
Yet unclear into what,
Spoken of a bright light,
Is this the route to beginning again?
Or perhaps a show stopping finale?
Is it the path to reincarnation,
Or just the end of our life destination?
What lies yonder?
We have ideals and notions,
But we shall never know for certain,
Until it is our time to go,
And by that time will we care,
I don’t think so!

Be mindful of what you do and don’t say…

They say,
“Sticks and stones may break your bones but words and names will never hurt you!”
Yet for me this is untrue,
And there should be no shame in admitting it,
If it is also truly untrue for you too.
When freedom of speech may be tainted and scorn.
Words fired at me with cruel intent,
Scorch me like a dragons flame,
Words unsaid leave me puzzled,
My tortured brain in overdrive whilst trapped in a maze of weighted silence,
And words shot from ignorance,
Are like a sharp and forceful stab in my back.
Words are underrated,
And name calling is cruel,
Together,
Or equally strong alone,
Powerful,
Meaningful tools,
The zest of language,
And communication,
When used with bitter content,
They may not break bones,
But they can and indeed do break hearts beyond repair!

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes…

Why do we still set ourselves up?
To fail,
To fall,
To disappoint?
It’s no wonder that there has been an increase in stress and depression,
Whilst we contend with this obsession,
Of wrapping up the future in cotton wool.
Why have we not yet learnt,
That no lasting good reigns from being corrupt!?
Sugar is the Devil,
And only morons dare wear its coat!
It’s inevitable that we shall fall,
Fail,
And disappoint,
When we are inundated by lies and deceit,
From the very moment we take our first breath.
When eventually in receipt of the truth,
It is no wonder our worlds cave in,
Leaving us unfulfilled.
Micro managed via politics and money,
Man made ideals,
Man made rules,
That manipulate,
Build and dictate society,
We simply must conform,
Follow suit,
Abide,
And engage in reproduction.
Yet there is no Prince Charming or Fairy Godmother,
The human fuel to children’s dreams,
Tarnish those distributed by the sandman,
As adults,
We know this,
So why do we bother!?
Despite the catchy tune,
Even lullaby’s,
And Fairy Tale’s,
Are all rubbish and lies,
Heads,
Shoulders,
Knees,
And toes,
Is not actually about where your hand goes,
But preparation for all of the woes,
That we will surely face past puberty,
When the make believe stories loose their security,
We shall have overwhelmed heads,
Weight on our shoulders,
Fall to our knees,
From our down trodden toes,
Because life is not what we once thought it to be,
The way it was portrayed and told to be,
It will most likely end up nothing like your fantasy,
No rainbows and magic,
What an anti climax,
How tragic!
Real life is rarely like what dreams are made of,
But more of a living nightmare,
Full of pain,
Disappointment,
And despair,
The boogie man is not under your bed,
His everywhere.

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