Bubbling Sorrow…

Showered in distress,
I cannot process,
How you cannot see,
The pain latched on and suffocating me.
My words vanish as they form and leave my mouth,
My eye sockets are inexplicably dry,
The intensity of my ill mental health,
Is hidden and sly.
My attempt to explain falls on death ears,
You’re eye on the clock,
Because time is money and you really don’t give a…
Shock,
You’ve twisted my large distorted accounts,
Into positive and small amounts.
Why do you challenge my truth?
Do you intentially mean to hurt me,
With every trigger you throw at me?
Why do you excuse the behaviour of others that have done me wrong,
Try and make a song and dance out of everything,
Probing me to sing along.
I will not waltz with you,
Duet with you,
Your steps are out of sync,
And your notes out of tune.
It converts to twenty minutes a week,
Don’t think me ungrateful,
Some people get no time at all to liase with professionals and speak,
But this is my story,
My journey,
And with all the third parties involved in my case,
It feels like only I will fall.
It takes a while for the penny to drop,
I struggle with process,
I cannot disclose,
What I don’t yet realise, Despite it being under my nose,
But with all your experience,
You should know where the story goes!?
Instead you lead me off subject,
Then hit me with triggers,
Lazy and evil,
You want me to figure,
But what do I do when it falls into place,
And no one is around,
To disclose face to face?
I turn to you.
My reflectionless friend,
The machine without the face,
But minds of many.
Sometimes people reach out to me,
Other times just dumping in a cryptic and cyber reality,
Loosens the shackles,
Not setting me free entirely,
But helping me,
And allowing others to see.
The real help,
Often doesn’t help at all,
On nights like this,
Leaving me picking up the pieces,
From the kick and punch,
Whole loads of triggers you poured,
That left me in a mess,
Showering helpless.
Feeling worse than before,
I shall not blame anyone in particular,
But the psychosis is ticking,
Depression is knocking,
Anxiety bubbling,
And self-harm compelling.
I fear to say this out loud,
So I shall share with my Internet crowd.
Just a bump in the road,
Knock on the head,
By this time tomorrow,
This bubbling sorrow will simmer,
Or i’ll be dead,
It’s only black and white in my BPD head.

Natures Duress

Thunder and Lightening,
Shooting out from my chest,
My mind is overtired,
And I am in desperate need of some rest.
Panic is my duress,
The storm is the symptom,
The bursting from my chest,
More than a feeling,
This physical torture,
This trauma,
This disorder,
The catalyst is stress.
The test,
I thought,
Was to initiate control,
To appear less of a mess,
But that is just suffocation,
Enabling imprisonment,
And suffering in silence,
Do not contemplate,
Or over compensate,
Let it all out,
Let it go,
The energy will release,
Warrant you or not,
The art of manipulation,
Would be an over compensation,
And it may take some time,
Some embarrassment,
Some challenges,
Many sleepless nights,
Brain freeze,
And much self reflection,
To come to realise that,
A Panic Attack,
Is natures scream!
A vicious beast,
With venomous fangs,
And claws like daggers,
Anxiety,
It will come without invitation,
And it will not be silenced,
Think as to why it is happening,
Not how to stop it,
And you may find the answer to both.

Escaping Tomorrow…

Pitch black,
Panic attack.
The chains way me down,
Both in wait and in sound.
The lead like a noose,
Restricts me from movement.
Even if set loose,
Gates surround me,
Draped in barb wire,
They forbid me,
There is no escape!
All sounds are shrill,
Beckoning me to kill,
To kill myself,
Release myself.
Vocal chords crushed,
And brain power zapped,
I am in no fit shape for combat.
I cannot escape alone,
But I am stuck on my own.
Friends and family all light years away,
And so unassumingly I pray,
For this monster to quicken in pursuing me,
And so I can melt away.
Escaping tomorrow,
And forgetting about yesterday.

This link shows you the disappointing broken communication between patients and professional help in today’s society. Around 10% of people with Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder/ Borderline Personality Disorder die from suicide, I hope that you agree that those statistics are way to high! Please share this pink and help me raise awareness about seeking help and not receiving it. This link in the mental health system is broken, please help me try to fix it!?
On Friday 27th October, I reached out to my GP in person and Community Psychiatric Nurse on tge phone, disclosing to both, that I had suicidal and intrusive thoughts. I was told that help would call me that very same evening by tge GP. It got to 90m and i had not received contact. After initiating a further three calls to the crisis team, it took over fifteen hrs for me to receive a call back! This was unacceptable. It needs to change. I did my best, but certainly did not receive it in any away, shape or form. The prospect of how many lives could be lost in that time scares me!