On My Own…

Sat home alone,
I cannot focus,
On anything but the bloody ticking tock,
Of my painfully loud clock.
Relentlessly kept anchored in the present,
I fester,
As I am a prisoner,
A slave captured by time,
Unable to hence forth,
Or recline,
Just stuck,
And endlessly out of luck.
What are the chances?
What did I do?
I would repent if I knew.
All I want is to love,
And be loved,
Like everyone else around me,
They make it look so easy,
And I welcome it with open arms,
But there is no love for me.
I can no longer depend on hope,
Delude myself that we are all deserved,
Of love,
And may receive it.
I have been looking,
Loudly,
Openly,
Scouting,
Foraging,
Wishing,
And wanting,
But just keep on,
Getting rejected,
Left and abandoned,
Falling,
Longing,
And failing,
I am worn out,
And I am torn.
How else can I take this but personally,
Now thirty-three,
Believe me,
I have sailed into the great unknown,
Searching for a lover to call mine own,
But it seems that love is not part of my destiny,
It turns out that there isn’t enough love for everybody,
And two shall not always become one,
We don’t all get that special someone,
To hold up and lean upon.
I must sink,
And sink alone,
But for all my writing in ink,
That shall follow me as I drown,
Like a dog to a bone,
My only companion,
As in the same pattern,
I shall leave this life alone,
Just as I came into it,
On my own.

Extra Time…

That poor child with a hole in his heart,
He has a pocket full of dreams.
Adventurous,
Brave,
Smart,
And cheeky,
Eager for his life to start!
“A Doctor” is what he said that he wanted to be,
And so he could help fellow sick people like he!
Then there is me,
Nearly thirty three,
Thirty years his senior,
A wasted soul,
Unhappy and ungreatful in life.
We both have hole’s iin our Herat’s,
Only his,
Literal,
And mine,
Metaphorical,
Still each scenario could lead to an unpleasant fatality.
He,
To him this whole notion is inconceivable,
Unbelievable,
Unfathomable.
I was once like him,
Determined to heal,
Beg,
Borrow,
And steal,
In order to be alive and feel!
I would give him my life if I could,
He would make the most of it,
I know he weould!
Life to me,
Does not feel as it should,
Full of heartache,
Misery,
Despair,
And negativity,
Running on misery,
No obvious destiny,
Broken and desperately misunderstood.
I want him to have my life,
Some extra time.
To you this may sound strange,
To me it is a fair exchange.
An opportunity to be the best that he can be.
The wires in my head are positioned incorrectly,
If I could give him my time,
My life,
Perhaps that would finally mean peace for me.
I would be his Guardian Angel,
With him day by day,
Guide him from wrong to right.
I would monitor his sleep,
Converse with the Sand Man,
Sucking out the venom that nightmares make,
And replace them with love,
Confidence,
Comfort,
And passion,
Whilst gazing upon him amongst the star light sky at night.

Mental Health “Care”

I am by no means a veteran of mh hospitals but I have stayed in four, both in London and Birmingham, over the last three and a half years. In regards to atmosphere, Oleaster’s Melissa suite is by far the best. This time I found, “The Venue” extremely beneficial, it is basically a room and court yard off the wards, all inpatients are welcome and they provide varied entertainment all day, everyday. On the ward, I kept myself to myself, from experience making friends in a mental health environment is not wise, if not eating in the communal area, I would be in a side room playing guitar ? or in my room blogging, www.adiaryfromnoone.co.uk but I met some very like minded people in the venue, people that also carried note books everywhere, people who also wrote poetry and lyrics, people who played musical instruments, people who wanted to sing and jam with me. The staff were non judgemental, accommodating, non invasive, helpful and detrimental towards my crisis recovery. Since being discharged, I would have loved to continue going for support and something positive to do. It was not explained to me that once discharged from home treatment, I would not be entitle to attend, if I knew, I would have been lots of times by now, I would have taken advantage of the opportunity. My options were not made clear. I asked for a referral, thinking that I could enjoy the venue as the next step to recovery after home treatment. Unfortunately because of where my general doctor’s is situated, I am not entitled to attend the venue, I have to go to the day centre at the Zinnia Centre instead. Logistically the decision completely makes sense but my feelings and well being have not been taken into account. I found a place of Zen and it deeply saddens me that I can not go back again! The decision has left me feeling angry and emotional, especially as it wasn’t made clear and explained to me these last few weeks, I could have at least utilised a bit of time there. My only other complaint is that staff need to be trained up on how to sensitively yet professionally handle people with BPD. I think that the illness is completely misunderstood and therefor handled incorrectly. If you have been admitted to a psychiatric hospital, it has not been decided lightly, there is a national shortage of beds, if you have been allocated one, you definitely deserve to be there and should be treated accordingly. I was told, “People like you should not be here”. That statement was an inaccurate matter of opinion. My time in hospital definitely helped me get through crisis.It’s all over the internet, people with BPD, feel Ike they are dismissed and not taken seriously by mh professionals, but BPD is often not the only illness that people suffer from and if you have been allocated home treatment or admitted into a psyche ward, it is mostly because of the patient being depressed or under heavy psychosis or a danger to themselves or all of the above, therefor acute admission is beyond necessary.

Why can’t you hear me?

Over and over and over again,
The same thing keeps on having!
As I continue to be unheard,
You continue to be absurd!
It’s all about points, goals and dates with you.
These things take time as I don’t function like you do!
If I speak my mind,
You say that I am being unrealistic,
I try to stay calm and kind,
But my patience is running thin and you’re acting like a prick.
So just leave!
Get out of my house!
If you cannot hear what I am saying,
Let’s just end this shit because I am done playing!