Lane

Who has been in touch?
Whose asked you how you are?
Who knows you are hurting even if physically they are apart from a far?
Whose true in your life?
Gifted or cursed with the all knowing of your current reality,
Tolerant enough to stick around through all notions,
Being emersed alongside you through euphoria or brutality?
Many today are entertaining the smokes and mirrors charade,
Only showing their best cards,
Once a fool to this sorcery,
I self measured sparring with the bullshit,
But now I want all out anf to be rid,
Washing my hands,
No part of it,
My Pinocchio sparks curiosity,
Into the world of celebrity,
But the craft of orchestrating or hiding from paparazzi,
I acknowledge and thank is lightyears away from me,
So why reveal anything,
Essentially to nobody,
Once fooled such networks were made to document,
When on the contrary they are built for the business of popularity,
And I seek not a spotlight upon me,
I will engage privately,
Especially with imagery,
But my minds often constraints me,
Regurgitating unwanted mental photographic projection,
That I only know to express in metaphors,
Blogs and poetry,
I must release to give my head space,
For turbulent matters to wreak havoc and pace,
Where people can choose to check in to learn and relate,
This worded place has no ladder to popularity,
No motive but to seek mental clarity.
Real is personal and direct,
A transferable transaction,
Hosted privately.
The act of back and forth,
Must flow that way precisely,
Frequency changes,
I believe are bound to occur,
But now older and less naive,
I acknowledge can result in permanent damage,
And irretrievable wreckage.
Who stuck to you like glue in your past,
So tight you never dared doubt that the bond may not last?
Who is in your present?
Are they a gift or a blooded tyrant?
Who will journey with you to the days ahead and unknown?
Memories fade,
Sometimes a blessing when practicing forgiveness.
Yet burdened scars bare permanent marks carried to the grave,
External or internal,
Some pain never drains,
Forever holding us hostage,
A haunting hold passed through bloodline,
Most complex without the hold of remembrance,
As triggers to avoid,
We know not,
Yet decclining emotion,
Mental stability,
We loose,
Confused we try to facade,
To cling to dignity,
From pressures of certain public persona,
As if wearing fragile emotion is a disability.
How do you weigh,
Measure,
The impact of bumping heads?
When trying to avoid conflict,
Yet acquire self respect,
Whilst acknowledging your worth?
The only inevitability in life as far as I see is death,
If you have entered this world as yet.
Being mindful,
Is not to revel in regret,
Or sit and wait for what hasn’t evolved yet,
Nor have to try too hard in relationships,
But to perhaps simply accept that sail has slipped and shipped,
And that’s ok,
If love was once shared,
It will always be there,
Even if unbeknownst,
Or unawear,
Worms meat is biogradable,
The universes capacity to treasure and share is amongst us and obtainable beyond our power out there,
But when trust is lost,
Your heart is ripped,
With no owned responsibility,
Warranted apology,
Palatable explanation,
And when no ofference has sincerely been made to truely fix it,
Redemption,
A line must be drawn,
For our tiny mind expantion is not infinite.
We are intended to always be on the move,
Going backwards isn’t easy,
Yet somewhow we all do it,
Nor is being in a spin,
Yet we all get stuck in loops,
There is absolutely no point in side stepping,
Going forward is the intention, And in my opinion not a cliche but accuracy,
Life is a marathon,
Learning many lessons as you march on.
In my lane there is room for support,
But now especially,
No room for baggage,
Being dropped myself too many times,
It pains me to reach this point,
But a door mat I am not!
I am pure and full of love,
I am light,
But not a star to stay constant for whomever,
Whatever,
No matter what and whenever,
My lane form is turning narrow,
With love I intend to part from many of you with one last hoorah,
Not maliciously,
Nor with sorrow,
But independently,
For a brighter tomorrow,
Deserved and contained,
Pastures new,
If you are part of my life,
You’ll personally know it,
Because you’ll be in my lane.

Not An Opportunity To Brand…

There’s a reason why I don’t watch the news,
There’s no room left on my body to bruise,
Pain and tragedy are my poetic muse,
And my heads already full,
I long for a break,
Someone to cut the fuse,
But I’m weighed down with heartache,
Longing for a retake,
Because for so long now society has played the same tape,
Never learning or owning upto their mistakes.
It has taken me a lifetime to waft away the haze,
Strip the glaze,
And truely see,
How society sees my reflection,
And why I have never reached perfection.
The odds have never been in my favour,
I was blind,
I was deaf,
I was dumb,
As to where all the hate,
Rejection,
And poor self reflection spawned from,
But now I see very clearly.
I don’t need your validation,
To feel like a valid creation.
Yet I am not deluded,
No longer musguided by secure ignorance,
My messages,
My stories,
Need hearing ears to fall upon,
No more suffering in silence,
That won’t stop the hate,
Stop the prejudice,
Stop the racism,
Scrutiny,
Murder,
Exile,
Violence,
Suicide,
Inherited opression,
Depression,
Injustice.
I don’t want to play hide and seek,
I am not a prisoner for you to keep,
Nor treasure for you to reap.
I am a human of colour,
I just wish to be seen,
Not judged,
Heard,
Not silenced,
Chances a new,
Not second hand,
To be seen as an individual,
Not an opportunity to brand.

Blood Is Thick

Tis fact that you are familiar with ill fortune,
Your ears have heard the tale of many woes,
Perhaps weakening your compassion,
Pained details becoming a fashion,
That by duty you must hear and impartially adhere to,
So much so that you perceive my grumblings as petulance,
Detached you are,
This is apparent from your facetious and needless remarks,
That you have barked,
Despite my fragility.
You harbour no emotion,
It is all innocent and guilty,
When it comes to my commotion,
Because we share no blood.
Occasionally fond of me,
But only love would enable you to hear and see,
The true pitty,
Wich is my history,
Evoking such misery,
So much so that it obliterated my destiny.
Now on a new path,
I do not forget,
Still waiting for you to love me,
But I no longer threat.
I ask for nothing from you,
And am therefor not disappointed,
You are happy with our distance,
And so it is kept.
Thinking I meant more to you,
Sums me up more than what you do,
Or don’t truly think.
You compared me to them,
That’s when I knew when,
You are detached,
And I cannot change that,
We need not walk on eggshells,
Nor tango,
Waltz,
Two Step around it,
Different blood we have,
Completely different roots,
I’ve seen the apple in your eye,
Your dedication to the princess and the glass slipper,
So made of stone you are not,
I’m just the old boot,
But a boot I am,
And I must be greatful for that,
Blood is thick,
Wine is devine,
But we all need water from time to time.

Mental Health Awareness Day

There is no shame in admitting that you are suffering,
Impatient and unempathetic people may tire of hearing,
Struggling to recognise what you are feeling,
None believing because they are not seeing,
Ill mental health may appear to be invisible,
Some people need to see scans,
Broken bones and bleeding,
Or they suspiciously cross you off as deceiving,
And that is why we need to raise awareness,
There are other telling truths then seeing to believe in.
Struggling to get out of bed,
Find joy and motivation,
Psychosis consistent,
Becomes dominant,
Especially when support off others is infrequent,
Or none existant.
When your hallucinations are more common,
Than the occurance of communication off others,
Life is bleak,
You are a prisoner to darkness,
Unable to see any light,
Each day is a fright,
And there is only one way out.
Your friends loose interest.
Your family turn their backs,
The help is infrequent,
Your lover feels trapped,
It seems like you mean to push them all away,
But just like you don’t know what to do or say,
Neither do they.
Social media is false representation,
Liking a post is not interaction,
Real acknowledgment,
Or appreciation.
Choosing to not discuss life depending issues,
Does not make them disappear.
Invitations become less.
Not one text.
You are living your life,
Avoiding the mess.
Not grasping that your neglection interjects even more stress.
So instead of being strong
Firm,
Consistent,
You just slip away,
Awkwardly as you know not what to say,
Until one day it happens to you,
And you get it,
But it is all just a little to late.
Take responsibility in knowing the basics of understanding the power of the mind.
We all have mental health,
And therefor we can and most likely will,
All experience ill mental health to some degree,
So take the opportunity to understand and be prepared,
We are not all hero’s,
If you can’t,
Or don’t want to help others,
At least help yourself.
Once you understand,
Pass the baton,
The more we know,
The more that know,
The less stigma and exclusion,
More respect and inclusion,
Hopefully leading to saving lives.
We loose too many to suicide.
Rip to those that have gone,
In your memory may we be strong,
Join forces,
Learn healing,
And live on.

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.

Black Girls Don’t Cry… Returns

As a self appointed mental health advocate, I have been fortunate enough to be approached by the BBC a few times throughout my crazy journey of ill mental health and my latest opportunity was being able to share parts of my story via the BBC Radio4 and Made In Manchester documentary, “Black Girls Don’t Cry”. Due to resounding success, it is available once more. It airs January 3rd at 8pm BBC Radio4 but is also currently available on iPlayer. Simply Google, “Black Girls Don’t Cry” or https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0b9zfws and you shall be able to hear two other brave black ladies as well as myself, share our stories of ill mental health. Catch it while you can. It really gives great food for thought.

No One, In a Nutshell…

I was an extremely sensitive child,
I grew up with a single parent,
The other I had probably seen about 10 times in 17 years until he disowned me for good,
I have dermatological issues caused from stress,
First therapy session age 12,
Diagnosed with depression,
Put on Anti-depressants age 16,
Tried some more therapy,
Decided I was well and that I didn’t need medication at around 19,
Put back on medication at 21,
Doses kept increasing,
Bullied in education from 4-21,
Bullied in my professional adult education,
Family troubles,
Sexual assault,
Self harm,
Heartbreak,
Self harm escalation,
Community Psychiatric visits,
Assessments,
Breakdown at 29 after loosing partner, home and job all at once,
Institutionalisation for the 1st time 2013,
Diagnosed with BPD,
Hallucinations,
Psychosis,
Suicidal behaviour,
Unable to function,
Unable to control emotion,
More therapy,
Therapist died,
No therapy,
More therapy,
Kicked out of therapy,
Disscociation,
In and out of hospital and home treatment,
Sectioned 2017….
Thus far on my mental health and life journey.
Now homelessness looms above head, after exceeding my housing association, floating supported, independant, self contained accommodation, I must now leave but the Birmingham City Council have rejected my application, three times over. This situation has had me close to attempting suicide because I cannot help but take the rejection personally. After being hospitalised every year for the past 5, I would really like a break, but the current housing epidemic crisis is breaking me. I have no children, I am not expecting and I am not over 55 years of age, despite my intense, approved and certified medical records, apparently I do not meet the housing criteria. I have been advised to rent private but with a council or housing accommodation budget! I am expected to go around the city, contend with rejection, forms, viewings, all on my own with no aid, guidance or support.I fear this may be the catalyst to the next dip in my mental health journey, but as long as I have breath, I will fight to raise awareness for those that feel they have no voice, for those of the future and anyone with acceptance and empathy, to rectify these mistakes and carve an easier path for my fellow and future sufferers.
Please support all things adiaryfromnoone and help me make positive change. Mental illness bares no immunity, anyone and everyone can be subjected to it and so the sooner we have global acceptance, perhaps global understanding will be less of a dream and more of an active mission. Stand with me. I am No One and I represent anyone and everyone of you! ❤

Roundabout…

Inspired by the TV show, West World…

See the record spinning?
Neither head nor tail,
Where’s the end or the beginning?
Round and around,
Full circle on demand,
Yet seemingly free,
Deceit!
Tis all engineered,
Placed by God,
Or something supernatural,
A force beyond our understanding,
It’s all engineered,
Designed,
Rigged,
Already chosen,
A hidden force manipulates,
What we perceive to be free Will.
Play,
Stop,
Skip,
Handle with care,
Delicately,
Avoiding wear and tear,
Scratch that,
And the sound will slack,
Skipping,
Trying to take it back.
It loops,
Circling like a hoola hoop,
Rhythm fast,
Rhythm slow,
Rhythm go,
Go,
Go,
Over and Over,
Because the master made it so.
A mirage of freedom,
In reality,
A soul trapped against its Will,
Destined only for fatality,
Things aren’t what they appear to be,
Russian roulette,
A fascade of tranquillity,
When really brutality,
A journey that you will endlessly repeat,
Yet we still forget,
The purpose as to why,
We do not know yet,
Bewitched,
Trickery,
We learn with regret,
And then we try to learn some more,
Starved with zero power,
I am mentally impaired,
But a sensitive suffragette,
Slightly aware that things are not right,
Stuck in an endless maze,
I hope for something more,
That there is some reason behind this treason,
But for now,
We lack control,
Lost in a game that we did not sign up for,
Chained to the tightest strings,
We are but puppets,
Stuck in a wretched game,
That we are forced to Play,
On this tainted roundabout,
In shades of grey.

JUST ONE MORE DAY UNTIL THE 2018 TRAILER OF NO ONE’S LOUNGE…PLEASE SUBSCRIBE AND STAY UP TO DATE VIA MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL, noone adiaryfromnoone

Subscribing, sharing, reposting, posting, tweeting, retweeting all of this and the crowd funding pledge below, will really help me lift this project off the ground. The proof is in the pudding, the more shows I do, the more information and 8nsight will be revealed. I just want to help people by raising mental health awareness. I am forever finding new ways to connect with people and this is my latest way. No One’s Lounge is a show for the people by the people, exploring the depths of mental health whilst appreciating serious creative forms of expression.

https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/noone?utm_source=Facebook

No One needs Your help!?…

I want to reach more people. I want to help more people. I want to make the topic of mental health more socially acceptable. I want to reach those in need. I want people to feel less alone and alien. I want people to accept their ailments. I will share my story and experiences of ill mental health time and time again, because I believe doing so sets an inclusive atmosphere for us all to share. I am no one, no one special, no one in particular, just a being like you, that is happy to share, providing my truth helps others contend with their own woes.
I will always write, but I am trying a new avenue of exposure. Visable documentary! Yet I need your help to do it properly. Please check out my Christmas 2017 pilot, both in trailer and/or full, via noone adiaryfromnoone on my YouTube Channel and please subscribe as well as share.

#shoutouts for those with #insomnia #Depression #anxietyproblems #worries #troubles #bpd #personalitydisorders #schizophrenia #ptsd #pnd any and every ill mental health #MentalHealthMatters & knowledge should be shared not silenced, please help me reach out to make more https://youtu.be/4mC_l48Ixkc via https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/noone/dashboard asap

Pictures…

We put pictures up of the ones that we love,
So where are the pictures of me?
I may not like the way that I look,
But is it any wonder?
Your neglect is affecting me!
Filling me with negativity,
As your actions loudly prove that you do not love me.
Your insensitivity is detrimental to me,
It fuels my psychosis,
Which always leads to crisis.
Perhaps a bit of sensitivity,
Will make your actions less of a liberty.
Just a small declaration from you,
Would prove that you love me,
So you don’t have to say you do.