A Diary From Noone

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

Tag: #sensitivity

Panic Attack…

Heads pounding,
Chest on fire,
Can’t catch my breath,
A pin drop sounds like a satanic choir.
Anxiety has me pinned down,
Vision blurred,
Overwhelmed by sound,
I cannot remove the burden of this thorned and bitter crown.
Where is all the air,
My word bank suddenly empty,
Tears fall,
This isn’t fair.
I cannot articulate what’s happening to me,
Despite all to well knowing what it is,
I must ride it out and get through like each time before,
Another panic attack fueled by anxiety.
Each time it feels like death has found me,
Until all of a sudden I am free!
How long until the next one will be?
The unsurity,
Enhances insecurity,
Not knowing simply gives me more anxiety,
Paranoia kicks in,
I loose all rationality.
I fight this constant battle,
It never gets easier for me,
But I shall not blame myself, Nor beat myself up,
Each time I get through,
Is a victory!

Complete Silence…

I have experienced quiet but…
It’s never truly quiet,
There were moments before,
Like deep in slumber,
But not anymore!
The concept of silence,
I would associate it with sleep,
Something hand in hand with when the lights go out,
A time to let your brain sleep.
A time for peace, quiet and still,
That was before I got really ill!
I long for it now,
The ongoing noise is haunting.
I liked busy sounds,
They were a circumference of comforting energy.
Contending with traffic,
The hustle and bustle of people,
Was once all I knew,
Living in the over populated “London Town” zoo.
Music north,
Television south,
Chatting east,
The clink and clank of cooking to the west,
Such was the noise and audio reality of flat sharing.
Even when growing up and back home,
Just mum and I,
But still plenty of sound,
The dog barking in the garden to the north,
Mum singing out of key to the radio in the kitchen to the south,
Television on in the living room to the east,
Me chit chatting on the landline to the west.
All of this,
It is what I knew,
The noise of my life,
Content in the sound cloud,
Bubble wrapped within the comfort of what I knew,
The humbling sounds that I was used to.
The noises pacified me,
I knew that I was never alone.
These day’s,
It is not quite the same.
I dislike the sounds that I hear,
They seriously generate fear.
Every whisper,
Every scream,
And all of the noises in-between,
Haunting!
My ears are more sensitive now,
Susceptible,
And responsive,
To the less obvious sounds in life.
I hear the lights buzzing,
The clock ticking,
The radiators whistling,
The voices of those that you can neither hear or see.
I liked noise,
It didn’t restrict me,
I felt free,
But now it’s different because I cannot escape it you see.
Hallucinations,
Psychosis,
Heightened sensitivity,
Whatever label you want to stamp on me.
Once pacified by the comforting sounds of home and life,
My ears now ache,
And I cannot shake the discomfort which these noises make.
A voice in my left ear,
Another in my right,
Trying to ignore them,
As to correspond with you and seem alright.
All the while my strength implodes,
Because balancing it all,
It is a tough fight.
The idea of complete silence used to be a fright,
Now it is all I dream of,
Everyday and every night!

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