Docter Docter, What’s The Vaccine For Venlafaxine?

Doctor Doctor,
Excuse me if you find me too revealing,
But I’ve got to express the way that I’m feeling,
My patience has reached the highest of ceiling,
And yet I’m still here attempting at acknowledging and revealing,
Despite how much my (so-called) personal mental health practitioners have got me reeling!
I should have known that they don’t care about me,
Are clueless as to my lack of well being,
Cause they ain’t calling,
And they ain’t visiting,
When and if they do,
It’s a quick and short questionnaire,
With a how do you do,
Paper work being the only essential and correct thing they get through.
If you feel suicidal,
Call up the Doctor.
If you feel to anxious,
Call Up the Doctor.
If you feel psychotic,
Call up the Doctor.
Now you know how it goes,
Just call up the Doctor!
Except for if you self harm,
Then go to A and E,
As the mental health squad are far too busy and precious to get all bloody,
After all I have BPD,
It won’t be an emergency,
Just another self distortion,
Miles away from self abortion,
Just another dramatic Borderline seeking attention,
They’ve given up on BPD prevention,
Or so it seems,
From all of my experience within institutionalisation.
If you don’t feel good,
Just call up the Doctor!
Well I’ve been ringing the Doctor over and over again.
Somebody explain to me if they will pick up and when?
I don’t understand all of this awful Jazz music I am forced to hear.
I’m not feeling well,
Oh dear.
In fact I’m already planning the fastest ticket out of here.
I just need a sound piece of mind,
Somone or somebodies to cool me down,
Make me feel more refined,
I don’t know how humans are supposed to be designed,
But there is a little trip in me,
I got a few problems with my sanity,
And all of this is kept under reasonable confidentiality,
The thing with mental illness is that it’s something you cannot see,
So people don’t think I’m ill when they look at me,
But certain people,
The professionals,
They know most,
And should understand,
And still I can’t get their attention,
And I’ve been patient,
Not even expecting anything on demand,
Two months and not a word,
An email and they’ve just gone!
It’s now you pushing my buttons,
Where is everybody?
Psychologist?
Mental Health Nurse,
Support,
Doctor?
My partner is not a psychological professional,
Yet someone (and in my notes you boast as if taking credit) I do get alot of my support from,
He is part of but has not painted anyone out of the picture,
You’ve not even seen him,
But of cause the idea makes you less concerned,
Just imagine if he ceased to exist,
Or if he put me at more risk,
There’s been no meeting or introduction,
His not trained or signed up for this,
But since you got wind of him,
It is only you who constantly lets me down,
To know a solid partner exists,
I think you have happily wrote me off as fully cared for on your insulting lists,
His not a vaccine,
I need Venlafaxine,
What have you done but gotten me dependant and addicted,
To a drug I now need,
But you are keeping it restricted.
No one foresaw the pandemic,
Least of all I,
Yet somehow you are punishing me for it,
And slipping away far too quick.
I’m cold turkey off drugs now,
And I believe that you wanted me to be sick,
Perhaps a threat to pipe down a bit,
But No One speaks,
And exposes the bullshit,
No matter the concequence of it.
2020,
Ive been abandoned twice by my mental health professionals,
Now I’m on the way to thrice.
I’ve been forced to try and soothe my own ill mental health,
I am not a mental health paramedic,
I’m not a pharmacist,
Nor psychiatrist,
But it seems I have to heal my self!
I like to volunteer as a self appointed mental health advocate,
To shake up advertising that gets people hyped,
Like one session of CBT and you’ll be alright,
I pray for those that might,
But know to well the rivers that run deeper.
I try to step in for when the professionals don’t get it right,
And people are left,
Only seeing the end in sight.
I didn’t textbook study pain,
But my natural empathy sees me right.
It seems it has to get very dark before any restoration of light.
Is it I that will have to perform some kind of Martyr Sacrifice,
When will our stories truely be looked upon,
People will identify,
People will sympathise,
People will recognise,
And perhaps the system will apologise,
But it will take people like me to be dead and gone,
For the system to get a kick up the ass,
Reveal true stats,
And work at the level they so loudly pride upon,
Yet quietly loosing so many,
Truely some of the best have now gone,
I’m hanging on in there,
Trying to make people aware,
I shall reveal the thorns,
They only shout about the roses,
I have no huge platform,
But stand with me,
I am fighting for myself,
Got a lot of work to do,
But it is easier to fight for you,
When fighting for all of us,
I would like some help,
When fighting for myself,
The light turns out,
I do need help,
Exhausted all common sense,
Ran out of ideas,
Dried up and burnt out.

Step Ladder Outa Hell…

I don’t believe that you are unwell,
You just keep putting yourself through some kind of hell,
Professing to be crazy,
When you are actually just lazy.
For absolutely no reason,
You’ve committed a self sabotage treason,
Putting your self in hell,
So you can just constantly dwell,
Taking it upon yourself you are just giving up,
Handed yourself over like an inanimat object,
An empty cup,
That they just continuously pour medication into,
To stop you from being you,
Because you claim to be ill.
I wish that you wasn’t so ignorant and so you could take away your pride,
And see the divide now between us,
You could have helped me,
You still can,
But you refuse to believe that I need it,
You refuse to accept what I have been diagnosed with,
And seem to think it all inside my head,
Although professionals themselves have said,
I do have have borderline personality disorder,
And it means my life is not in the same order,
I can no longer dream the same dreams,
At least for now,
Or accomplish the same things,
But I am still human!
More than anything I’m able to love and wish for love in return,
But my pain,
My suffering,
Has caused you pain,
I know,
And you suffering,
For this I am sorry,
That is why you are on auto pilot,
Which warrants your denial,
But you are no longer by my side,
I try to take it in my stride,
But it isn’t easy,
As I don’t want to make you feel any other way than love towards me,
But at the very least respect,
And belief.
I do not just make things up,
I am not just giving up,
Attention is not what I seek,
I want after healing.
I am unwell,
I don’t want to be,
If you could come to terms with this as well,
That will be my step ladder out of this hell!!!

Take A Look At Your Own Mentality!?

Yo!
They heckle.
Freak,
Nuts,
Insane,
Not all there,
Half brain.
Shout your insults,
I don’t care,
You can pick those words up from anywhere!
Not only do you need to expand your vocabulary,
But instead of dissing me,
Take a look at your own mentality.
So you pick on people,
Make them feel small,
Try and hover above us,
Get to us,
And so you feel tall.
How about just minding your own business!?
I have no time for those that are unwilling to learn,
You annoy me,
But I cannot give you the satisfaction,
Of being my main concern,
Nor will I throw shade back at you,
Spreading the blazing fire,
From whence the trigger you did ignite,
Jumping on the band wagon,
Entering a fight with forgotten purpose or insight.
From such scenarios,
The drama shadows the roots,
Heads turn for the wrong reason,
And instead of resolvement,
Acknowledgement,
Resolution,
Prompting inclusion,
Understanding,
And a solution,
The focus gets distorted by your animosity,
Inviting more vultures,
To pollute the minds of the the impartial,
Media gets it twisted,
More haters are enlisted,
The idea of global,
Social,
Empathy,
And Understanding,
Is lost in ignorance pollution.
To the haters,
The trolls,
The small minded,
Blind,
Ignorant,
Judgemental,
I am drowning you out,
Because the venom from your mouth,
Is not worth a whisper,
Definitely nothing to shout about,
And unworthy of me to talk about.
I put my hands up,
With absolutely no shame,
I suffer from mental illness,
Which is a cognitive impediment in the brain.
I still have a heart to Love,
A soul to anchor feeling,
Being a mental health advocate is my choice,
And as I raise awareness,
I do it all for us,
Anyone,
And everyone,
Representing all of us,
With for now,
Just one voice,
But you are welcome to join me,
It is your choice!?

www.adiaryfromnoone.co.uk
“No One’s Lounge” via my YouTube channel noone adiaryfromnoone
All social media, adiaryfromnoone

Golden Letter At Sea, For You, From Me…

Life is full of surprises!
The ups,
The downs,
The highs,
The lows,
The relationships that form,
Come,
And go.
The elders will always say,
“I told you so”,
And the youngers will always give them a reason to say so.
We can dream,
We can plan,
Try to manipulate what lies ahead,
We can all climb,
Try to conquer,
Competitively bump heads,
We may win some,
Loose some,
But the only certainty that we have,
Is that one day,
Alas,
We shall all be dead!
What lies ahead?
I do not know,
But I know what it is,
To be stuck,
Lost,
To feel frightened,
And Alone,
No longer full of fuel and steady flow,
But ground to a halt,
Feeling lower then low,
While everyone else seems to,
Go,
Go,
Go,
To be left Alone,
Locked up in a dark cage,
Whilst the world keeps spinning for them,
For everyone,
But not you.
You may end up on an alien path,
But you are still in the game,
There for you can bounce back,
Full of battle scars,
But with pride and not shame,
It’s not easy,
But nothing worth it is!
Perhaps deserted by loved ones,
Left to combat alone,
But you are not on your own,
You have me.
There’s a golden letter at sea,
Floating in a green glassed bottle,
It’s a message for you,
For anybody,
For everybody,
That has lost their way,
Saying that you are not alone,
I empathise with your struggles,
Take your time,
Hold my hand,
And get in line for combat,
With your head held high,
Alone,
We hear the echoes of defeat,
Through a hollow drum,
Together,
We are strong,
In unison,
We March in a band of percussion,
We will get back on our feet,
And fight for recovery,
Until we feel strong,
And find our way back,
To the right track,
We loose far too many lives to suicide,
For you,
I don’t want that,
I mean it,
It’s true,
So come and join No One,
Demons be gone,
I guarantee you have me as a plus one,
And hopefully soon,
We shall be joined by everyone.


Take a look at No one (@adiaryfromnoone): https://twitter.com/adiaryfromnoone?s=09

Dancing out 2017

Sitting on the frosted curb,
Left with a sprinkle of premature December snow,
Whilst delicately seperating my festive mince pie,
Like breaking bread in church,
Preparing bite size portions,
In order to waste not,
And leave not,
A telling trail of crumbs and succulent fruit.
Tis Yuletide once more!
2017 has passed with the lightening speed of a Polaroid camera flash,
Had me Waltzing around the ballroom,
Frantically changing style,
The purposeful march of the Tango,
The military Quick Step,
The merriment of Jive,
Freestyle contemporary,
Dirty Meringue,
Repetative schottische,
The Rumba in my feet,
The Samba in my mind,
Picking up pace,
And then falling behind,
The manic Quick Step,
And monotonous Two Step,
Frozen in the Spotlight,
And dancing in the rain,
All in twelve months,
My very own,
“Marathon ’33” endurance test,
Bewildered at how I ended up in this wretched contest!?
Competing with my past,
Struggling in the present,
Unenthusiastic about the future,
Fatigue engulfing both my body and mind,
Whilst the other contendors race ahead,
Leaving me behind.
Finally,
I sit,
I notice that my bruised and swollen feet,
Pang in tune with the beat of my mirroring heart,
My exterior,
In this delicate moment,
Where I have stolen a moment,
To stop,
Paints a picture of a tired,
Yet recovering soul,
But let it fool you not,
As I am still stuck down the rabbit hole,
It is here when I decide whether I want to crawl out,
And I do,
Without a shadow of a doubt,
But tis a complicated process,
I cannot merely scream and shout,
Rely fully on others to get me out,
But your love,
Support,
Empathy,
Consideration,
Patience,
And understanding,
Would help the log fire of my being,
Not fully burn out,
Give me the motivation to get up,
And keep dancing it out,
Demanding change,
As I dance free of the chains,
That have held me captive this 2017.

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!

Let Me Sleep Now!?

What Black Magic has been bestowed upon me!?
Which Witch has cast a deadly and toxic curse!?
What Wizards spell created my Voodoo Doll!?
What spiteful Troll tailored the pins,
That some unearthly Monster has used to control me!?
What Beast has hypnotised my third eye!?
All together,
The pack and their toys manipulate me.
I am fortunes fool!
I despise this wretched path that I have stumbled upon,
Unsuccessfully alone,
I am counting on someone to release me.
My heart is broken,
This pain I feel,
Like burning flames,
It feels so real.
I hear a calling,
I feel the pull,
From high above or down below?
Either way I want to go,
It cannot be worse then here,
Living in agony and constant fear!
Fighting for what?
Afraid of death,
I am not,
What I fear is living in constant sorrow,
Let me sleep now,
I don’t want to wake up tomorrow!

Could You Press Pause?

When life is good,
And you feel fit,
Feisty with fire,
That ignites the power within you,
To fight with all of your might.
No mountain too high,
No river too low,
Good to go.
Like an eagle you soar the sky’s,
You see the whole world,
Tiny,
Through your powerful eyes,
From the very top,
All powerful and mighty,
You take it all in,
Knowledgeable and wise.
Nothing to fear,
Safe up so high,
Near where heaven lyes.
You thought out of harms way,
Yet monsters are real,
And they will find you if they want to,
Day or night,
Dark or light,
With the power of their third eye,
They can always find you,
So don’t ever let your guard down,
Or they will surprise you!
When darkness comes,
Like a magician’s cloak,
It swoops down and covers the light.
Senses lost,
With sudden change,
You are out of control.
Catapulted out of safety,
And highly at risk!
When life is bad,
You feel only sad,
It’s not something that you would choose,
Being stuck with the blues.
The monsters of the night,
Scurry and reep all good from you,
And around you.
Only bad news left,
Wishing you could walk in another man’s shoes,
Any other shoes would do!
When stood on the volcanic and jagged rocks of a cliff,
Your head as high as the slight and distant twinkling stars,
Pretty from a far,
But shooting ones will strike right through you,
Like a bullet from a gun.
Beneath,
A pit of fire.
All of a sudden,
Such an ugly place to be!
Could you press pause?
Take it all in?
Breath in?
Reset?
Manipulate your environment to your liking?
Turn around and walk with caution,
Don’t look back,
Only forward?
Or jump without hesitation?
Cut out the frustration,
Eternal probation of some kind of higher power,
That is holding you back from revelation,
With sleep deprivation,
You fall into the Devils heart,
Only wild dogs hear you cry.
Ashes to Ashes,
As you singe to dust.
Leaving nothing but the toxic stench of death,
Obliterated,
No time left for tears,
Remorse,
Or regret.

“… I defy you stars!”

You keep saying, “Tell me, don’t hide from me”. Whenever I try, it is to difficult. I know that the world does not revolve around me, in fact I often wonder why I am in this world at all. How is it that after bruise, after strain, after fracture, after broken, that I can still produce what we call love? How is it that after each poke, prod, push and fall, I keep getting back up? How is it that in just one day, a mere twelve hours, I can go from way up high to way down low over and over again. If you know and accept that I am sick, why do you only come when the plot gets thick? To only pop up when I am in hospital, you needn’t bother at all. To only get in touch when I post my misfortunes on social media, you needn’t bother at all. It is every single day that I battle my mental health problems. It has been every single day for so long, that I have not had the luxury of silence but been overwhelmed by the likes of claps of thunder drilling in my ears. It must be exhausting to know and love me, it most definitely is for myself. What you may consider small, is so huge in my life. Let downs. Rejection. Abandonment. I have become accustum to such things. I now only expect such things. “I am fortunes fool, I defy you stars!”