Too late…

You should have been there,
You should have noticed,
You should have helped me,
You should have saved me!
You could have asked,
You could have told me,
You could have had my help,
You could have been saved!
I tried!
I Tried!
No you turned your back on me,
No you looked the other way,
No you didn’t listen,
No you didn’t help!
You put up a brick wall,
You looked fine,
You shut me out,
You didn’t ask!
I Tried!
I Tried!
I wish that we spoke,
I wish that I could have communicated with you,
I wish that I could feel that you cared,
I wish things ended differently!
Your pain did not translate,
Your suffering wasn’t clear,
You kept me at arms length,
Things could have ended differently!
Now I am gone!
Now you are gone!
Yet there is a lesson to be learnt here,
Which may lead to truly saving someone!

If you know someone who suffers from mental illness, checking in on them regularly could be a deal breaker. Feeling just an ounce of significance can save lives! Knowing you have someone to turn to can save lives. Feeling acknowledged can save lives. Knowing that support is available and warrented can and does save many lives. So be a sport, show some love and support, always be mindful that when people are mentally unwell, reassurance of security can be detrimental.
This following clip is of season 1, episode 2 of, “No One’s Lounge” my new mental health chat show via my YouTube channel noone adiaryfromnoone all about stigma and taboo. Please check it out and share it all about. Donations will assure more episodes to come, crowd funding throughout the year… only 7 more to go and halfway there to number 3 🤞🏾❤

Performing…

I thought that spoken word was so easy,
That being myself was the best kind of performing,
Because you write your own script,
Direct,
Produce,
Visualise,
Create,
Everything yourself,
But I fear that I may have been mistaken.
Performing is performing,
And performing I love you,
But my psychosis is now sabotaging my gift of creativity.
When you don’t have a character to hide behind,
Sharing your own art is a very difficult thing to do.
With my acting background,
With my head in the game,
Crowds don’t phase me,
I can deliver,
I like it,
I feel at home on the stage,
But I did not take my honesty into consideration,
My ill health into consideration.
I get so much pleasure from helping others,
Expressing myself creatively,
Reaching out to those curious, similar or exactly like me,
But have absoluteluy no idea how to help myself.
I wish my performance was a play,
But these days I showcase my own life,
And now it is over for a while,
I really feel the pain and strife.
The audience receive a short summary of what my life is like,
When it finishes,
For them it ends,
But I cannot escape my own life!
I didn’t realise at the time,
But I became an actor to take advantage of executing different emotions,
Emotions that as human beings we all need to express and feel,
Being emotionally unstable,
This was a playground for me,
Acting allowed me to play,
Experiment and release,
To feel emotions that we so desperately need to experience to progress,
And grow naturally.
Now speaking spoken word,
With Words That Are Nothing But True,
I have all of these emotions and I simply don’t know what to do.
So for now,
I decided to start with writing to you!
I have no regrets,
Only envy,
Hope helps troubled minds,
But I have been medically informed that my illness will always be a part of me,
With no escape,
A condemned eternity of misery.
A huge cloud now hangs above my destiny,
I am trying to process and accept the character that this makes me,
But this is not the way that I wanted things to be,
And I mustn’t fool myself that what lye’s ahead will be easy.

Dorris.. To those forgotten and those that forget!

To the one’s that we have lost to suicide, that were to ill or lonely to reach out to the estranged people in their lives that they felt were to far away to reach out!

Dorris was your very first friend at play group,
Someone else’s best friend through primary school,
The girl you wanted to be like at secondary school,
Your girl at college,
Your rival at university,
Your colleague at your first place of work in the adult world,
Your drinking buddy,
Your weekend partner in crime,
Someone special to you at some time in your life.
Your relative,
Your lover,
Your soul mate,
Friend,
Or someone that you used to know.
Time,
Distance,
Change,
And circumstance came between you,
Dorris became someone you meant to call but never got round to.
Whilst you were busy living,
Dorris fell behond and ill,
You heard about it,
Had an inclination that things were bad,
But not serious enough to kill.
Crying to a sad song,
A movie,
Or tragedy on the news,
Dorris longed to walk in your shoes.
Dorris had been conquered by serious mental health issues,
Suffering from the deathly blues,
But none of you came forward,
Not one of you’s!
Now that she is dead and gone,
You remember her,
Have time for her,
Regret not contacting her,
Kick yourself for not visiting her,
And it is terribly sad,
But you just didn’t realise that things got so bad.
Now it is to late,
For Dorris in any case.
Don’t make the same mistake twice or more,
Man up,
Clear the cobwebs,
Even if you feel sore,
Forget about your shame in failure and neglect,
Just contact your Dorris now,
To avoid a lifetime of regret,
Reach out to her,
Before she becomes the next suicide suffragette.
Recognition, apologies and compassion are for the living,
Not the dead.
Treasure moments and time with the ones that you care for,
Who knows how long any of us will be here.
Please enjoy them while it lasts.