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.

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! ❤️ ;

Virus! Leave and Go…

It’s a strange and complex feeling to fathom,
When your vital organs shut down,
And you have to fight with all of your might,
To do the often considered simple things,
Such as breathing.
Times of trouble haunt me,
Now deep rooted PTSD,
Has cost me,
Days ago all things considered,
I should have asked for help,
Dialed 999,
As my life was on the line,
But I recoiled,
Breathless and withered,
The Sandwell ordeal at the forefront of my mind,
Just the idea of once again being mistreated from people so unkind,
Made my judgement blind.
Jab,
Jab,
Like a punch bag,
Sharp pain on the left.
Short and sharp,
Unable to catch a full breath,
There’s a fire lit in my chest.
Weazing,
Nothing easing from medicine or rest,
My temperature in a blaze,
In a haze,
I am dazed and confused.
Thank you my love,
For taking care of me,
Holding me,
Giving me hope and the want to fight,
Holding my hand all through the night,
And providing some light.
I must now admit that he was right,
I needed hospital assistance,
But my fear and stubbornness beat his persistence,
He gave in to my resistance.
My will strong,
But mind now weak,
As I have stayed ill lay down,
Beyond the planned week.
Medicating my asthma and this wretched illness,
I have neglected my mental illness,
Ran out of medication,
Over consumed by this complication,
My breath is short,
My mind incomplete,
Emotions high,
Tear ducts overworked and nearly ran dry,
Mother I cry,
But she is nowhere nearby.
All this ill health is making me question myself,
I beg for this ordeal to end,
I have no strength to pretend that all is OK,
In fact it all gets worse day by day.
I am holding on,
In hope that soon,
This shall all one way or another,
Be over and done,
Where hence this virus came from I do not know,
But I cannot wait for it to leave and go.

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!

We Can No Longer Deny it, December 1st Is Here…

As Christmas is nigh,
I look up at Santa’s map,
The starlit sky,
Where he shall sleigh his mighty sack.
December is here,
I feel nothing but cold,
The young ones full of cheer,
Ba Humbug I am getting old,
But as Christmas is near,
Children write their lists,
In hope of getting many gifts,
To be bestowed upon them December 25th!

Happy Christmas 🎅 one and all. December can be a lonely time for anyone and everyone, be Kind and make it known that you care for the good people in your life. From a mental health point of view, I have struggled, relapsed and been in Crisis over many Christmas periods. I was in a mental health hospital through the Christmas period a few years back, I remember being permitted hospital leave on December 25th and relaxing with my Mum, Step Dad, Sister and late Grandfather, it was magical. While the lucky ones enjoy lavish gifts, the even luckier ones enjoy friends, family and festive cheer. Enjoy your Christmas but be mindful of those on the streets, the elderly who are lonely and feel forgotten, the sick children in hospital and their parents and families, the lonely, the suicidal and unwell. Please share this link, it is easy to forget the unfortunate during the hustle, bustle, preparation and celebration of Christmas. A little acknowledgement and a smile may be small and effortless to you but mean the world to another.
Merry Christmas From No One xxx

CIRCLES…

You will find a link to my YouTube channel at the bottom of this post, please check out my new vlog entitled, “Circles”.
Beforehand, please see two poems that I wrote in relation to two pop songs (Cyndi Lauper’s True Colours and Rhianna’s Stay) that inspired me for a spoken word performance. You will also find a live recording of that performance on my YouTube page, under, “NO ONE & KK!”

True Colours…

I live in a multi-coloured world.
A diverse universe,
A parody of the Planet we Human’s call earth.
I see beauty in your sadness,
And sadness in your smiles.
Of cause there is tragedy but mostly comedy,
No poverty,
No hierarchy,
No monastery,
No political parties,
No war,
No prejudice,
No racism,
No hate crime!
Saying this out loud, of cause it is pure fantasy,
Perhaps this is why I am certified crazy!?
But I see your true colours,
And I know in which world I would rather be!

Stay…

Even in my world there is heartache,
Yes, even in my multi-coloured world!
Like glass it shatters into pain wrenching particles,
Leaving an “Ora” of only black!
Your heart stops beating,
A heart attack.
The pain projected upon you seeps through your skin,
Into your blood,
And swims through your veins.
Asphyxiated by abandonment,
Turned ice cold,
Blue upon rejection.
Life’s meaning fades,
Imprisoned by love lost.
There is only one remedy,
That he will come back to me,
Come back to me and stay!
His return determines my fate.
Oh please come back,
Come back and stay!?

CIRCLES…

Struggles With Voices Are The Worst!

When you are down, low and insecure, there is nothing worse then the added pressure of hearing voices. For the reader’s that have never experienced psychosis, imagine wanting complete quiet but you have two people shouting into each ear at the same time, plus the radio on full volume, the TV on full volume and the piercing sound of all electricity, the lights, heating, just a volcano of noise that you cannot control or ignore. Plus everything being said is critical, condescending and demanding of you. That is the best way that I can describe my experience of hearing voices. It is agonising and can lead to catastrophic consequences’. I may be happy one second and then like a smack in the face, it can all come on and all at once. I can have the cleanest diet, be alcohol free, exercise daily, distract myself with music, poetry, TV, whatever. I could go on a heavy night out, drink all night, socialise and dance. I can be stuck in bed for days. I keep trying to diagnose my own triggers and think that is where I am going wrong. Such symptoms are simply part of my illness, what I do does not determine a relapse, it is just the nature of my illness. I take my medication, communicate with support but neither or are cures, they are just put in place to decrease such symptoms, not eradicate them. This is an acceptable theory upon reflection but not helpful at all when in the moment. I just want to switch off for a bit.

Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Swish!
Swash!
Swish!
Can you hear it?
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Swish!
Swash!
Swish!
Can you hear it?
I can!
I am sick of it!
It’s not as it may seem,
The noise I mean.
It is like tuning into a radio station,
Before they went digital!
Nonsensical sound waves,
They then commit,
Translate,
And strongly exist…
Listen to me!
Listen to me!
Oi,
Jade,
Listen!
Seriously,
Can you not hear it?
I can!
It goes on and on,
And on and on,
Intense,
Overpowering,
Tightening,
Instructing and demanding.
I hear it!
I cannot turn it down.
Where’s the mute button?
The stop button.
They say they will,
If I succumb.
You are insignificant!
You are unworthy!
You are vermin!
You have the stench of death about you!
People would be better off without you!
You are no one special.
Pigeons are like Rats with wings,
You are like a rat with two legs.
A pest!
Get over yourself,
Everyone around you,
Strangers that meet you,
Loved ones too,
They don’t want you,
You know it’s true.
Darkness and gloom seeps in and out of your nostrils,
What you inhale is pure,
But release is deadly!
So I unwillingly spread darkness?
Make it stop?
No one wants you around,
It doesn’t have to be said!
Just read between the lines,
You are an unwanted inbred.
No one wants a burden,
You’d be better off dead!
You can try to keep up.
You can try and beat it,
Defeat it,
But is there any point?
Weighing people down,
Bringing people down,
Drowning and gagged,
Sinking deeper and deeper,
Let go and release them,
Everyone and thing you touch ends up in disaster,
Your darkness spreads like fire!
So let them all go,
Or they’ll all burn with you!