A Diary From Noone

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

Tag: #homeless

No One’s Lounge

To my readers,

Just as you support me by following this website and staying up To date with my poetry and blogs. Please help me in the same way by watching/sharing/supporting/following and subscribing to my YouTube channel, noone adiaryfromnoone and enjoy the festive pilot of my new chat show, No One’s Lounge. Enjoy acoustic music, magic and chit chat about Christmas traditions and how the season often evokes ill mental health within people. Comment, have your say and ask me anything. This show is for you. Merry Christmas 2017,

From No One 🎅☃️🎄

DEMAND CHANGE…

Scroll to the bottom if you would prefer to listen, otherwise… happy reading. Please share this one, it means an awful lot to me. Thanks for visiting, come back soon!? XX

DEMAND CHANGE!

If the last four years are anything to go by,
Excuse me as I start to cry,
Because my psychologist told me that I will have this monster of an illness for the entirety of my life!
What!?
I see her every three months or so,
Go in,
Come out,
Who knows what the fuck we talk about!?
I am just another number,
Case load,
For her to box and shelf,
To prove to the bankers’ that I have been seen and “helped”,
But she hasn’t,
Helped me, that is!
Help ignites hope,
But she blew out my candle when she condemned me to an eternity of helpless misery.
I shout my woes,
Confess my sins,
Tell them all of the out’s and in’s,
But they neither see nor hear me,
Not one of all of the professionals that supposedly support me,
They just give me more pills to sooth me,
No,
Silence me!
People in my very small social and immediate family network ask that I at least communicate with them before battling with self-destruction,
But how can I purposefully burden my friends and family?
Firstly, If I disclose all the intricate details of my intense suffering,
I fear that they may section me,
And believe me,
I have been institutionalised enough times already!
The full truth,
The whole truth,
Nothing but the truth,
Will make people not want to speak or listen to me.
And so I write,
And I write,
And I write.
I may not be as articulate and witty as the professional’s,
Lack in vocabulary somewhat,
Be short of the spark that creates recognition and popularity,
A magnitude of followers,
The camera skills to go viral,
The voice of an angel,
Musicality like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart,
But this is my art!
Speaking from the heart,
Everything that I say is true.
It may be a matter of preaching to the converted for now,
I see you nodding your head,
Taking in every word that I have said,
Thank you,
Give me an Amen!?
The budget cuts in the mental health system,
The up rise in mental health patients,
The increase in the number of people with mental health problems on the streets,
Scrapping for food to eat,
As if they don’t already have enough problems.
The black hole between help in the community and hospital admittance,
The loss of mental health control,
Less beds,
More med’s,
The increase in suicide!
I struggle to cope every single day!
I see and hear things that other people can’t,
Lucky them!
I don’t eat,
I don’t sleep,
I don’t shower,
Brush my hair or teeth,
Or I eat too much,
Sleep too much,
OCD kicks in and you could seriously eat off my dustbin!
I cry,
I panic,
I hallucinate,
I self-harm,
I hate myself,
And contemplate suicide most days!
If you have to ask why?
You haven’t been listening!
If you find my revelations a bit intense,
Then I am truly sorry,
But this is the reality,
My reality,
My life story forever more,
As my never ending diagnosis of;
BPD,
Depression,
Anxiety,
And Psychosis has been bestowed upon me for eternity!
I long for the times when I could distinguish the difference between bad days and good.
I once had the capability to actually believe in myself.
I have always had ill mental health,
First therapy session at twelve,
On pills since sixteen,
But there was still enough space in my life to dream,
Even moments when I conquered,
But I am no longer on this planet for me,
But for the people who love me!
Even though they may not fully know or understand me,
I can forgive them for that,
I do not fully know or understand myself,
But for some reason,
Some amazing people do actually love me!
And so I am very confused by this but recognise their love,
And therefor I am extremely thankful and lucky.
I fear and feel for those that have no one,
Those that receive no love at all and feel weak because of this.
Think about how isolating it is for those that have absolutely no one to share their experiences with.
There are people that have no one to aid their struggles with physical and psychological pain.
It is my pleasure and self-administrated duty to share with and represent my fellow Borderline’s,
Depressive’s,
The Anxious,
My neighbours The Schizophrenic’s,
The Bi-Polar’s,
And all of the above,
All of you,
The list is as long as my battered and bruised arms.
It takes personal experience to understand sometimes,
But you do not need a degree to practice listening or conjure empathy.
You do not need to be mentally ill yourself to acknowledge how integral mental health is in our society.
As a result of increased and continuous budget cuts in a financially deprived yet desperate area of NHS Health,
People are dying every single day.
This is a fact that deeply saddens me to say,
But this is an increasing problem that will not just calm down and go away.
We must unite and demand change.
Demand change.
DEMAND CHANGE!
With change we can help people very much in need.
With change we can potentially cut down the suicide.
With change tomorrow may not seem as grey!

A Poem For The Lady On The Street… Followed By The Voice Of The Vulnerable People Of Birmingham…

Did you see the woman sitting on the street?
Don’t plead innocent,
Admit your deceit!
You saw her alright,
But instead of acknowledging her,
Your feet rapidly picked up the beat.
She asked you for money for something to eat,
Once more your assumptions and ignorance blinded you,
Why give her money to spend on beer, drugs and wine,
Although two of those are on your shopping list,
But of cause,
That’s fine!
It’s Christmas time,
You have lots to do,
Seeing family and friends,
Gifts,
From Me to You.
You will be fine,
Warm,
Happy,
Spoilt and stuffed on Christmas day,
But that lady on the street,
She won’t just vanish away!
She has no one to be with,
Nowhere to go.
This festive holiday,
Perhaps you need all the money you’ve got,
To you,
Giving a little may mean giving a lot.
But a quick smile is free,
It may mean a lot to that woman on the street,
A nod,
Or shake of the head,
Instead of hurrying feet.
That woman and everyone else vulnerable and in need,
For whatever the reason,
They are still human beings.
They deserve more.
A smile,
An ear,
Time,
Communication.
Neglect them not,
They are already at the lowest of the low,
Abandoned,
Failed,
And let down by the system,
Left on the street to rot.
Please spare a thought for them this Christmas,
I am not asking a lot.
That simple and humble kind gesture,
Could really mean an awful lot.

So… December 2016, I decided to put my actions where my thoughts were. I wanted to personally reach out to the vulnerable people of Birmingham, the city in which I was born and live, the city in which I myself am considered vulnerable because of my ill mental health. One man (so to speak) a person like myself, with no wealth, connections in high places, fame or a vast platform, cannot change the world single handily, but I can personally endeavour to try to make a small difference to the world, an impact on society, by persevering to complete my mission of raising awareness of mental health as an individual. I hope that in time, people will choose to join me on my mission, enough people to make a difference. Support me by reading my words, my poetry and blogs, regularly visiting www.adiaryfromnoone.co.uk and sharing my story and experiences with those in need, people who may benefit and learn from my honesty, collaborate with me and get the word out, follow me and recommend me on social media, watch my vlogs, adiaryfromnoone on YouTube. Please don’t interpret this as preaching or a plug but one must repeat themselves in order to get heard.
Every year for the past sixty four years (if my maths is correct, which it most likely isn’t and so don’t quote me), The Queen has given a televised Christmas speech to the Commonwealth realms. Over the years, The Queen has tried a personal touch, reaching the population in their homes, reflecting on the good and bad of the past year and wishing us all a very happy Christmas from The Royals. I must give The Queen credit, or perhaps The Duke Of Edinburgh or Winston Churchill, whoever it was that had the idea to make the reoccurring speech an available spectacle for the entire nation to see, the idea was a stroke of genius and way ahead of its time. Their idea to televise media in the 50’s, mirrors today’s social media and the power of going viral. People love, “Reality Television”. Dancing kittens, celebrities getting drunk, sex scandals, a lot of trivial rubbish with absolutely zero meaning, that is the stuff that gets the highest ratings. Undoubtedly more ratings then the Queen herself, but it is the Queens role to reflect upon the people, even though in reality, The Queen is so far removed from us. So you can make a fool out of yourself, perform like a dancing monkey, lord up your privilege but no one seems to want to know or learn anything of importance. Instead of watching an incredibly privileged or wealthy being discuss war, poverty, illness, homelessness and politics, would you not rather watch/read or hear from someone who is a selfless advocate for the people’s vulnerabilities and the vulnerable sake? I would, because the message would have sustenance, the context should take the spotlight, not the person with an alternative motive of acquiring fame or popularity. Instead of the façade that people are knowledgeable or even care about the unfortunate that The Royals preach about, using a top researchers carefully edited script, rather then personal reflection or research, why is there no platform to hear of these stories from the horses mouth? No gimmicks, no carefully edited tear jerkers, not sugar coated entertainment whilst the phones are ringing and the donation clock is going up and up, just truthful disclosures from those in need, the people on the streets, the abused, the refuges, the drug and alcohol addicts, the criminals, the minorities, the mentally ill, the physically sick, sick children, neglected children, children in care, the poor, the elderly, the lonely. Keeping things simple and focussing on the issue, that is what we need to see and hear in order to learn and advocate change.
On December 23rd 2016, I went to The Salvation Army to visit the homeless, escorted by musical friends who played live music, I sat and spoke to the people, allowed them to talk about whatever they wanted, I mostly listened, allowing them to feel special, acknowledged and heard. There was one man who was making song requests but neither I or my friends, the musicians, knew what he was asking for. He said that when he is on the streets, he sings for money, we welcomed him to sing but at first he declined. About half an hour later, there was this beautiful moment where he blossomed like a flower. Very quietly he began to sing and as we listened his confidence grew and he belted out his own lyrics for all of us to share and hear. That is the kind of thing that should be on YouTube, if only I had permission to film. I gave them gifts for Christmas and expressed my empathy.
I then went straight onto Summer Hill House, a rehabilitation centre for drug addicts, this time alone! I gave a speech whilst introducing myself and disclosing my intensions and my experiences of being institutionalised in a mental health hospital over Christmas not so long ago, I read them the poem above, sang silent night as an impromptus duet with one of the service users that I had crossed musical paths with in the past, on guitar. I held an open conversation about what they would say if, “The People’s Speech” was actually a thing. I intended to make a mockumentary of, “The Queens Speech” but with some home truths from the actual mouths of some actual real life vulnerable people, but I did not get around to it and so instead, please read on.
Most of the people in rehab were homeless, some spoke of family neglect and being in the social services and care homes from a very early age, throughout childhood and how damaging that can be. Some spoke of being so lonely, no family, no friends, no security, no home, how they just wanted to be acknowledged and feel significant. They spoke of how emotionally crippling it is to be ignored on the streets. They appreciate that not everyone can afford to dish out money, they are more then aware of the connotations that go alongside with begging on the street but would prefer to not be prejudged, stereotyped, stigmatised but most importantly ignored. Just a smile, nod/shake of the head or a brief hi or sorry would help lift their mood and confidence because they already feel bad enough for being out there and asking as it is. They spoke of how they don’t have phones or internet and so all of those messages about calling support lines online, may as well be spam. They spoke of how they have no access to information on where to go for food, a bed, healthcare etc. They want more hands on care and their most poignant message was that they are there all year round, not just at Christmas, although grateful, Christmas seems to be the only time that people remember to spare them any thought.
Overall, I was fortunate to spend the afternoon with some rather hard done by but extremely strong individuals, Circumstance lead them to where they are but they are human, just like us and all they need is a lifeline, but there are very few and extremely hard to come by. I vow to take on bored what they said. I will at the very least acknowledge them, just the same as I would anyone else. I tried to bring a little light to their life, I gave them material Christmas gifts from my own pocket but I think the gift that they were most thankful for, was my time, thoughtfulness and kindness. They felt significant, and so they should.
I am not asking you to give these people materialistic things, you don’t even have to empty your pockets! I am asking you to open your eyes and hearts, it sounds ludicrous but, just a small gesture of acknowledgement can actually save lives, revitalise these people by lifting their spirits, life is hard enough for them, without being ridiculed or dismissed! No one likes to be ignored, because it is cruel, if the shoe was on the other foot and you are completely honest, I am sure hat you can appreciate my very small request, give a little light to these people in the darkness.

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