No One

Looking in the mirror,
I think I may have lost my identity,
When I broke down so much of my substance leaked out of me,
Some achieve hiding the cracks and honour that with pride,
I am unable to mask my ruptured crevices and so I cannot hide,
Hesitantly I share my journey,
But that does not make me an exhibitionist,
And please hear me when I say that attention is not what I seek,
I sacrifice all bad judgement in sake of helping others,
I tell all to help other people out.
As a woman of a certain age,
I’ve been left on the shelf,
Abandonment has erupted my ill mental health,
In search of sanity,
I pray for clarity,
Yet remain lost in a haze of memories and dreams,
Triggered psychosis,
Nothing is at it seems,
I know unhappiness,
Loneliness,
Deep, dark depression,
Anxiety,
PTSD,
OCD,
They are all a part of me,
But who am I actually?
With the baggage,
The tears,
The cover ups,
The fears,
Who I am doesn’t matter,
I could be anyone and everyone,
No one in particular,
Just unhappy,
I don’t know how to be anyone else,
Even though I no longer recognise myself

Simulation

For the unempathetic,
The unsympathetic,
That once thought ill mental health was pafetic,
Welcome to my world.
I say this sincerely,
As it is quite clear to me,
That your mentality is crossing borders unknown.
The lockdown zone,
Not being able to leave the house,
Estranged from loved ones (perhaps not reciprocated),
Friends (so-called),
Family (just blood),
That you truly miss but cannot reach.
Is something you never get used to,
Yet I am so very familiar with,
And feel warranted to preach,
A feeling and sensation that I would never knowingly share,
But I know it has its claws on the masses of you out there.
The paranoia,
The fear,
The new,
The way to close to home,
Is on all of our doorsteps.
We are warranted to threat,
About lack of finances and debt,
Whether we have had the virus yet,
The high possibility of death.
Wanting to go out,
Being mentally restricted,
Is just as gruelling as when restrictions are leagully inflicted.
Feeling restrained,
Contained,
Maintained.
When and how will it end?
The mania,
Hysteria,
May manifest,
As we flap our wings,
Without flight,
Wrapped up,
In a blanket of maybe and might.
Nothing is certain,
Nothing is for sure,
Don’t practice self blame,
If you are feeling insecure.
Just follow suit,
And hope.
When this all passes,
And we have said our goodbyes,
To this delicate yet tremendous stamp in history,
Please remember the simulation,
Of mental dismay and fraustration,
And spare kind thoughts to the mentally vulnerable always in this situation.

Covid-19 versus Mental Health

Speaking to fellow people that suffer from ill mental health, the overwhelming feeling of lock down and isolation, which is such an alien concept for most people, not at all sound of mind to contend with, is a very much unwanted first for many but actually the norm for many people whom suffer from ill mental health. Social anxiety/depression/psychosis often isolates mentally vulnerable, especially single people. These symptoms often lead to self isolation, triggering loneliness and paranoia, boredom, weight gain, weakening of the immune system. Loneliness can kill. This is an unfortunate pandemic but also a lesson in the usual day to day life of many of our mentally ill and vulnerable. What a horrid but memorable way of wearing shoes on the other foot. Hopefully when the world pulls through to the other side, remember this feeling and contact the vulnerable loved ones in your life.
My paranoia has been high for a while. What really upset me is that I have tried to safeguard myself by being in the company of my partner, but it is a fair distance from my abode, trying to get enough medication to see me through a few weeks, to avoid public transportation and leaving the house has not been permitted. Yet in the past when I have travelled abroad, there was no problem. Maybe they thought I was being over dramatic/sensitive; paranoid, and I wish they were right but it seems my paranoia is warrented, only as anticipated, I am in no state to trek and beg once more. I appreciate them holding the reigns on controlled drugs but their inability to stick to a decision, giving me false hope and then wasting my time has made me more ill than taking a weeks worth of meds in one go would have done.
Everyone is paranoid, fearful of the unknown but I’ve been wearing masks since last year as my OCD has esculated and remained untreated. I am frightened to go out and use public transport and no calming words or percentages will ease the panic running through me. What happens if I cannot force myself out, if I run out of meds?
Ultimately I know that this virus is like nothing we have ever personally been through. Please telephone/text/video chat and check in on your loved ones. At times like these, it is easy to forget that you are loved and I bet you are. If you are going stir crazy and feel you have no one to talk to… Please just message me.
#bekind #togetherwearestrong #dontbeselfish #declareyourlove

Talk To People…

So the caption and advice of, “Talk To People” is an endless trending message re. Mental Health these days and I thank those with a platform whom are willing to discuss ill mental health, as we live in a follow fashion society and celebrities posts are listened to, influence, motivate Joe public more than The Royals/Politicians/mental health specialists and survivors in recovery like myself these days, especially for the young ones, whom inevitably are our future.
I like that mental illness is being discussed rather than shunned and hushed, it’s on the radar and people are getting more acquainted with mental illness and what it may mean. Yet there is still an ambience of being sugar coated, polished, filtered, watered down and cut. Ill mental health has a vast spectrum and many, many layers. It is complex, it has no cap or guaranteed time limit. Each experience is personal. Most experiences have a domino effect and the pain unintentionally ripples through our nearest and dearest. Some people just aren’t equipped to help and support people in immediate/impulsive/high risk/sudden/long standing crisis and that is OK, often there needs to be professional intervention. Unless someone has been through something similar personally or knows of someone and how the mental health system works, therefor having empathetic ears and memorised go to responses, hearing that someone is suicidal is a huge responsibility that may have a knock on affect and cause detrimental damage to the chosen someone, making them feel guilty, some part responsible, to blame and then mentally unwell due to the strain and guilt. Not everyone is equipped to deal with another in a mental breakdown/psychotic episode/crisis and that is OK, but something we must teah and preech before sending out a global message to those that are unwell, saying just tell someone/anyone when not everyone can handle the responsibility and then the rejection could make the ill more sick.
Not everyone has empathy and emotional common sense. Generation’s/Religion/Nature/Nurture/Upbringing/Exposure may sway our minds in response to comprehending the magnitude of seriousness mental health issues obtain.
Many people turn to social media for help, not understanding that social media is simply smokes and mirrors, people are more into putting out than even giving attention to what comes in. The ill persons message and cry for help may not be seen until too late, maybe just not even at all. People love to post messages of love and heartache after lives are lost rather than being around to comfort when people are on the line. It is all rather insincere.
Clueless people yet my own loved ones have said, “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like that”, “Do you think you are the only one”, “If you’re going to do it (commit suicide) hurry up and get on with it”, “We are all fucked up, not just you”, “You know we love you” post suicide attempts and so that is why I do not reach out to anyone, because abandonment and rejection are two heavy symptoms of my Borderline Personality Disorder, if I am feeling suicidal, reach out to friends whom never check in, family whom say the above, my impulsivuty will be the final straw. If you reach out for help and don’t receive it, it will make you worse, so being advised to just confide in anyone is poor advice, it’s a goal but we are not all there yet! Maybe that someone is great the first time but flash forward three years, they are over it with a call my bluff attitude or tough love, or even nonchalant way of thinking, distancing themselves from you, purposefully excluding you, segregating you, not realising that the sick persons actions are not a choice and cannot be switched off for respite. I guarantee that the strain they put on you does not even contend with what they are going through. Please don’t neglect your duty of care to your daughter/sister/mother etc. External support can be critical but love is a powerful medicine!
Sometimes when in need, I haven’t even been able to get in touch with my mental health team and two-five hours later when I do, the advice is nothing more than common sense, which is not a remedy for someone out of their mind.
If you cannot call anyone that you know, please call the likes of the semaritans.
If you don’t like talking or even know where or how to start, please call 999 or 111 and they will act accordingly.
Please think about what options you have and try them all before attempting the final straw.
Flashback a few months to a year before you hit rock bottom. Please go to your GP and disclose your ailments, they will refer you accordingly. Figure out what distraction techniques work for you when you are having a bad/hard time. Even if without detail, let someone you are close to (family/friend/colleague/partner) know and so they are in the loop. Remember mental illness is more common than you would think and therefor the stats of ignorance and ridicule are slowly dropping.
If you cannot talk face to face or via text, please write a letter or blog or poem, you don’t have to send or post but it may be an easier way for you to share your vulnerability.
Someone out there loves you or that someone is coming. You deserve love, kindness, patience, understanding and happiness.
Who knows what happens when we go, I guess in this lifetime we will never know and so please hold on, it’s a bumpy ride, but try not to check out before the end, it will come, so please wait and let it, this suffering may have a purpose but only time will tell, if you keep defying and reaching, don’t let the darkness eat you! ❤️ ;

All over the TV

This girl can bare the character of many faces, Believe me she’s going places, On the right path she’s going to the top,
She ain’t never gonna stop.
Her big dream,
Achievable,
Not a fantasy,
Reality,
This is her destiny.
All the bumps fuel the pumps of ignition,
She’s wound up and ready to go, Despite many attempts of ruining her flow,
You supported her she needed that,
But now all is lost,
To the debt of a mighty cost, Once proud now ashamed and distant practically lost.
I never meant to embarrass you, I never meant to let you down,
I never took away all the air,
I never wanted to drown.
Now so many have surpassed me,
I see them all over TV,
Whilst I stay back suffering from mental fragility,
I know the top is a place,
A place that has no room or space for a loser like me,
Mentally fit and positively different I wish it could be, I’ll be the one on the box for all to see,
I’ll be the one making you proud cashing in the money,
And because I’m not,
You’ve forgotten how to love me,
I never needed you back then when I was independent and strong,
I was on the right path on the right track and knew where I belong,
Out of everything that I’ve lost what saddens me the most is losing you,
I’m truly sorry for any pain or torture I put you through,
I wish you understood that my mental instability is not not a path that I would have chosen for me or to hurt you,
BPD is not what I ever believed I had,
Would ruin me,
Ouch this path pains me,
More than it does you,
It’s true,
And no matter what though,
I love you.

Navigate through the darkness of BPD

I promise not to be angry with you if you decide to walk away and stray elsewhere,
I most probably will be upset,
But as a veteran reject,
Every dumping gets a little easier to accept.
I do not mean to be high maintenance,
I do not mean to be a bother,
I want to explore happiness with you,
But here’s a warning,
I often get exceptionally blue.
I know depression can be mind boggling,
Psychosis scary,
Severe anxiety incomprehensible,
Self harm revolting,
Suicide attempts mortifying,
Dissociation offensive,
Self isolation frustrating,
Especially if those are things you have never personally had to get through,
But know this…
I did not volunteer to suffer from the woes that I constantly endure,
But on the border I am locked up in chains,
BPD does not define me,
But is a huge Part of me.
Borderline Personality Disorder is a complex illness that should not be ignored or overlooked!
In brief moments of clarity, When thinking rationally,
I can understand why you may be weary of me,
All the blood,
All the tears,
All the lows,
All the Downs,
All of the seeds of self doubt, All of the the panic,
Makes being in my life a heavy duty,
And for me living life,
Utter turmoil consistently.
Like a yoyo,
I am up and down all day,
But this is not a game,
Should it be,
I would never play.
For you,
I don’t want to be an obligation,
The hated person in your life, As much as it pains me,
If my condition is too much for you to comprehend,
I would rather you hurt and offend me,
Dessert me,
Take flight,
Then pretend to be there for me.
Communication would make it easier to process,
But the pain as sharp none the less,
Yet your confession less of a catalyst for stress.
For those of you that are consistent,
Devoted,
I truly adore and thank you,
For those that have turned their backs,
I wish perhaps you had a little more patience,
And took the time to try to understand that my illness and it’s symptoms are not something I can control,
Not anymore more than I already am,
I cannot turn on or off on command,
You cannot force or demand, That I reach upto your expectations,
So neither should you pick and chose when you want me in your life,
I just want you to hold my hand,
Be it literal,
Or virtual due to distance, Don’t turn a blind eye,
Dismiss my ill mental health, All the work I am doing to hold things down,
And be my best self.
Please don’t just chime in on social media if I’ve had a public breakdown,
Or turn up if I’m in hospital, Or buried dead and gone,
That would ultimately be too little too late.
It is important that there are no delusions,
That I know exactly who is there for me,
And therefor where I belong.
Feeling loved makes me strong,
Gives me the super drive to hold on,
Reminds me of my entitlement to stay here and live on.
To feel love,
Be loved,
And be strong.
The ignorant,
Shallow,
Disloyal,
Unfeeling,
Can do one,
As I strive to destination happy place,
Manage to navigate through the dark,
I hope to feel like I belong,
To be brave,
That’s all that I crave.

Rainbow

All stories come from stories,
Fables and tales of old,
Get twisted,
Torn,
Pulled apart,
And made a new.
The art is to refurbish and tell like never before,
Leaving hints of familiarity,
Subtle enough for you to question the clarity,
Yet get you hooked,
And entertain you once more.
Words pour out of my mouth like water,
Vivid,
Fast and pure,
Never preplanned,
Or to mine ears been heard before,
I must have been a muted poets daughter,
Kept back by prejudice,
In a life before,
Now reincarnated I am still kept back with not much more to gain,
So much time has passed,
Yet judgement and exclusion remains the same,
My gender now not to blame,
But this time my brain,
Some lable me as insane,
Making publishing my work a gamble,
Excusing the discrimination with health and safety,
Keeps me at the back of the line,
Instead of the front where I deserve to be.
I want to open my mind,
Open and let you all in creatively,
I’ll keep you entertained with many a story,
Some real,
Some fantasy,
Some as dark as reality can be.
Yet people don’t want to take a gamble on me,
Be it the colour of my skin,
My battle scars out and showing,
My mental health diagnosis,
My fragility,
Potential crisis.
If I was a celebrity,
Publishing offers would fly to me,
Which is something I cannot fathom!?
I am no one imparticular,
Which makes me all the more spectacular,
Because I represent you all,
Anyone and everyone,
The masses.
I could be you,
Or the girl next door,
You’re daughter,
Best friend,
Or cousin.
Instead of allowing me to rise and connect with you,
You step over me,
You do not see me,
You will not listen to me,
Despite with all of my experience,
For the curious,
Those in the dark that need a guiding light,
Someone other to hold their hand,
To understand,
I am the connect to help you through.
The one without private health care like you,
The one who has to wait like you,
The one they medicate like you.
There is no personal Doctor on call,
Nowhere to just check in,
Thats the world of your celebrity.
I will not discriminate fleeting moments of ill mental health that others have indulged,
So why discriminate me.
My illness is longstanding,
I’ve been institutionalised,
Penalised,
Accosted,
Persecuted,
Snubbed,
Ignored,
Ganged up on,
Disrespected.
I have been to Hell,
I could tell you about that,
Demons and Psychosis,
Hallucinations,
Manifestations,
Paradise,
Euphoria.
I’ve been down to the darkest place.
I’ve been up to the highest and brightest.
I’ve spoken to the people that movie characters are made from.
My eyes and ears have explored every crack and crevice of the mind and beyond.
I could tell you a tale or two,
Some you may have heard before,
Some familiar,
Some brand new,
But I refuse to speak to buttoned up ears,
Lost in translation,
Focused on fame and vaneers.
I worry I may loose,
Or confuse what has been
As my memory looses stability,
Due to medication,
And emotional sensitivity,
And so I share snippets on here,
Both to remind and for those that support me.
One day I shall tell my full story,
Awake my imagination from slumber,
Mix everything together,
And share a rainbow of novels to suit everybody,
When the world wakes up and sees my potential as an endearing literature somebody,
Fueling books,
Theatre,
Television,
And film.
My stories,
Honest and brave,
Timeless.

Kween Like Lizzo…

Wish I could be a kween like Lizzo,
Looking fly,
Throwing shapes at the disco.
Instead I am lying low,
Locked up in the dark,
Not living my best life,
And letting my juices flow.
Don’t judge me because I ain’t a size zero,
Thick thighs not out,
But covered up,
Not alfresco.
Think you know me,
Well I don’t think so,
You just assume,
But I ain’t filling trollies full of junk in Tesco.
I’m sick so I’m full of medication,
Instead of healing,
I’m feeling ashamed because of society’s pushed and unrealistic misrepresentation.
My weight should not be the topic of conservation,
Put your energy into some other dedication,
Hold back and have some reservation.
If my weight is a worry for the nation,
You’ll need to get a life and take a vacation.
Word vomit,
Throwing hate,
No hesitation,
Girls got feelings,
You just assume,
With zero investigation.
Don’t judge me,
Don’t comment,
If there is no invitation,
Keep your obnoxious judgement to yourself,
It should be you in isolation.

Broken Heart

I think the reason why I blog, write poetry, spoken word, music and reach out to people on social media is because I genuinely don’t want people to feel the pain that I do. I reach out to anyone and everyone because I feel like I have lost the contact and love from important people in my life and I try to fill that void by helping others. A heavy heart and tangled brain is a burden that often leads to isolation and fatality. A problem halved is a problem shared, because you need more than one hose to put out a fire.
I have lost friends, partners and family because I suffer from mental illness, BPD and all that sails in her. I have lost a huge part of myself, my dreams, my confidence, reputation because after being constantly bullied, denied/abandoned/banished by my biological father, excluded from family holidays and reunions and you can only pick yourself up and dust yourself off so many times. I can see a world without me in it, way more clearly than I can see a future for myself. I want my own family and their only burden would be to be smothered by my love and baffled by my pride, my husband and children would never doubt my love for them for as long as I live.
When you stop going out and attending social events/family occasions, inevitably the invites stop coming in, so do the phonecalls texts and all communication.
The only comments I receive are about my weight gain, belittling or denying my illness, I receive no love off the people that once gave me so much. Do I embarrass them? Offend them? Do they honestly think self harm and suicidal behaviour is something that I am proud of, that I take pleasure in?
When you come from a working class background and you don’t get private health care, even the professionals abandon you and let you down. I had a mini breakdown last year, because of the disgraceful way that I was treated in hospital.
A family member has said to me, “If you are going to kill yourself, just get on with it and do it!” I tried by the way. At least I know where I stand with that individual.
Life carries on. I think people loose patience with people like myself. The survivors have a strong network of support. So many others leave this world because fighting depression/anxiety/psychosis is like fighting an army and no human is strong enough to combat an entire battle alone. Not even fictional characters like Arya Stark from Game of Thrones! Even her badass needed much help.
I apologise to all whom I have hurt/disappointed/upset since my breakdown 2013. I need you to know (even if you do not understand) I am ill. Would you be able to resent someone with epilepsy? Sounds a bit silly and I am not literally comparing, but sickness is sickness.
I used to reach out alot more before than I do now, because I know that there isn’t really enough help, love and support out there for me from the people that I want and need. I got so confused, at one point I was even reaching out to people from my past, whom were left in my past for a reason, sorry! Desperation is a poorly lit torch. I now understand your side steps.
I don’t need to be ignored, excluded resented by my closest/oldest (long standing) /bestest and feel that I both have been and am being.
I feel like a spare part.
I feel so tired of fighting alone.
I feel like trouble and woes just keep falling upon my shoulders.
I cannot really help myself anymore, I try my hardest to be independent and self sufficient but my demons are often all consuming. I take my medication, accept professional help but it feels like prolonging the inevitable.
Friends come and go in life but best friends should stick around through ups and downs forever.
Partners come and go in life but should I loose my current one I really will explode.
Love is so important and we understand that it should be unconditional, but more often than not, it proves not to be.
Family are your family, blood is an undeniable bond but I don’t expect my third cousin in timbuktu to be there for me, yet I do get disappointed by my immediate family not.
Age is just a number when it comes to dealing with the emotional turmoil that I do, I still need a phone call, an I LOVE YOU, a cuddle, to be held and included. I hate confrontation and so I don’t scream & shout about all this but we all know.
I think people get tired of people like me, I just want those people to know that I do not choose to be this way. I don’t want you to have to tolerate me, feel obliged to be there for me, so I silently let you ditch me but it does upset me and doesn’t help me stay on top of recovery. I have tried to communicate and hint but you are all putting a wedge between us, just please hold on until I am secure with my special someone, I won’t survive on my one.
To my blog readers I am No One, a someone representing everyone and no one in particular, but to a few I should be a special someone, and all this someone wants is to feel loved and secure to fuel the fight and sun away those dark clouds.
So never feel a burden by messaging me guys, together we can silence those terror crys.

Whatever Makes You Happy (even if just for a moment)…

I was christened Methodist at birth but most of my foundations and early beliefs of religion came from attending and being educated in a Catholic Primary School named, St Martin De Porres. My nan still says, “Say your prayers” everytime we speak. Yet after primary school, religion wasn’t ever really part of my life. Like most western people my age, growing up, family Sunday dinner (even if just Mum, the dog and I) was a ritual, not going to Church. I was always curious about religion though, I guess it was more about understanding my surroundings rather than looking for a saviour. Birmingham, England is and always has been extremely multicultural, I wanted to understand what my peers were upto, believed in and committed to. I was just curious and therefor Religious Studies was one of my favourite subjects at secondary school. There was so much to learn about, it made me question how all of which fit together, who was I to say what was fiction and none fiction, that one religion or another made more sense or not and so I vowed that until I found the time to study every single religion, it would not be fair for me to side with any which one without all the information. To this day I have never found the time to do so and so I stand by the tittle Agnostic, which for me means… I believe in some sort of higher power but as to which exactly, I do not know. Most of the people that I know are Atheists. The truth is I don’t mind what religion anyone follows, as long as they do not force it upon others.
I consider myself to be rather spiritual. Believe me or not, I have no reason to lie, I have psychic dreams, I have had three encounters with angels and I am still figuring it all out but this year I started to attend a spiritualist church. It is my saviour. With the nature of depression, I am down more often than not, whether it manifests out of me as suicidal or manic and many complex shades in between, I find it hard to be still, calm and have a free mind, but spiritual healing enables me to explore being zen, even if just for a moment every week which I attend. Hands on healing is extremely powerful. At its best, I can only explain the transaction between the healer and I with this metaphoric description; before healing I am a battery controlled object in an inanimate state, when I am touched the very first contact is like being plugged in on super charge, my body hair pricks up and a wave of cold hits me from head to toe and then heat is transferred to the areas in which I am touched, I am physically and mentally awoken, walls are broken down and restored. Sometimes I cry, sometimes my head hurts, sometimes I feel sea sick as I tend to be gently rocked both forward and back, side to side by the comforting powers that be. There is nothing human that I can compare it to, nothing that I have personally experienced, but please take my word for it, it is wonderful.
Healing/Church/Religion/Spirituality may not be for you but I urge you to try something substance and toxic free to help clear your mind and recharge, life is hard and with no you time, to reset, self reflect and self focuss, life can be an unpleasant, continuous and seemingly pointless cycle. I do not insist but encourage you to experiment if you have not yet discovered your happy place to reboot, maybe explore with yoga, meditation, mindfulness, any activity that focuses on self attention and reflection without the aid of distraction and find your happy place. You deserve it. We all deserve to feel wholesome, even if just for a moment in our fragmented lives. You might not find your thing straight away, it took me 35 years to connect the dots but we are all fragile and all deserve to be healed.
I just think everyone deserves an occasional worry free, float in the clouds, lifted, supported, enabling energy/feeling every now and then because we all fall down sometimes and it is so nice to be helped back up.