Withstand…

I can hear the devestation loud and clear,
It bellows through your silence,
Whistling high pitched in my ear.
The magnitude of misconstrued perceived projected pain has boomeranged,
Smacked me as the target,
The sentiment of rage and pain reciprocated.
Both blood and entourage have misinterpreted sickness as purposefully projectile,
Yet in clarity I acknowledge the repercussions of self sabotage,
Whilst unclear it seems a worthy sacrifice.
You interpret the honesty of pain as manipulation and violence.
The reality of mental instability,
Is dark with turbulent misery.
I can see your lack of understanding,
From the silhouette of your back.
Whispers of ignorance tornado around us.
Bonds broken unintentionally,
Left to mould,
Unresolved have stripped away our alliance.
I fear permanently,
Whom I have lost may never come back,
Receiving rejection and abandonment are not new to me,
But I won’t stop loving you,
It’s a blessing and a curse,
But the majority of my anatomy.
Illness of the mind is invisible to all whom choose to be blind,
Mistaking symptoms for being unkind.
I will not keep chasing you,
It is clear you don’t want me too,
So we must drift,
With an unresolved bitter rift,
But if you turn around again,
I’ll be open,
To remedy what has sadly been broken.
I take accountability,
For the pain I have caused,
With hope that you will realise that it was not intentionally,
That the cards dealt to me,
Were not chosen by my hand.
I accept that I cannot make you understand,
And that it is easier to bubble wrap with withdrawance and practice withstand.

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.

Gift

Without the opportunity of reflection,
How can we process,
Learn,
And grow?
Wisdom is often acquired with the gift of time,
Yet so much time we waste,
In haste,
Or stuck in the past.
Is it a coincidence that today is the present,
And in our language a substitute for that word is gift?
Forget not the past,
The seed in which you blossomed.
Look forward to the future,
In which you may enjoy how far you have come,
But remember no man knows how long we each have,
So try to enjoy everyday,
Even if in dismay,
Life is hard,
Complicated,
A challenge,
We know not why we are here,
Why there is so much inequality,
And life is unfair,
But we have been permitted to experience life,
For some they are showered in riches and glory,
Others no luck
Ill health,
Struck with bad luck and no opportunity,
Treated poorly,
We know not how our fates are cast,
How long we will be here,
And lives will last.
What came before?
What happens next?
We can not compare,
Because all is inexplicably unbalanced and unfair.
Some are born with riches,
Fortune,
Networks,
And opportunity,
Others with nothing,
In poverty,
Off the map,
And instantly forgotten.
Many people are left behind,
Sadly knowingly,
They are not blind,
But will any of this matter when we leave this world behind?
Questions!
Curiosity!
Up there,
Or down there,
It’s in us all to strive to survive.
One inevitability is that we shall all follow in the footsteps of those whom have left us behind,
So lets make the best of today,
Before it flurries away into yesterday,
Each unwrap our presents,
Spend time on exerting who we are,
Where we are,
What we are,
As that is all we can ever be sure of.

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.

Simulation

For the unempathetic,
The unsympathetic,
That once thought ill mental health was pafetic,
Welcome to my world.
I say this sincerely,
As it is quite clear to me,
That your mentality is crossing borders unknown.
The lockdown zone,
Not being able to leave the house,
Estranged from loved ones (perhaps not reciprocated),
Friends (so-called),
Family (just blood),
That you truly miss but cannot reach.
Is something you never get used to,
Yet I am so very familiar with,
And feel warranted to preach,
A feeling and sensation that I would never knowingly share,
But I know it has its claws on the masses of you out there.
The paranoia,
The fear,
The new,
The way to close to home,
Is on all of our doorsteps.
We are warranted to threat,
About lack of finances and debt,
Whether we have had the virus yet,
The high possibility of death.
Wanting to go out,
Being mentally restricted,
Is just as gruelling as when restrictions are leagully inflicted.
Feeling restrained,
Contained,
Maintained.
When and how will it end?
The mania,
Hysteria,
May manifest,
As we flap our wings,
Without flight,
Wrapped up,
In a blanket of maybe and might.
Nothing is certain,
Nothing is for sure,
Don’t practice self blame,
If you are feeling insecure.
Just follow suit,
And hope.
When this all passes,
And we have said our goodbyes,
To this delicate yet tremendous stamp in history,
Please remember the simulation,
Of mental dismay and fraustration,
And spare kind thoughts to the mentally vulnerable always in this situation.

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! ❤️ ;

Imperfections;

If you asked me to write a list of all my perfections,
I’ll be honest with you,
That would be something I would find very hard to do.
But if you asked me to write a list of all my imperfections, I’d say how honest do you want me to be with you?
As the list will go on for days and days,
And it’s frustrating because in many ways my weaknesses gives me strength,
But they also keep me down.
I can’t tell you how many doors have been shut in my face,
Because I have been unable to keep up with the pace,
Be the winner,
Knocking everyone out of the race,
First place!
I’m used to loosing now,
Not placing at all,
But I know deep down I’ve not given up,
I still can feel it,
Nothing can destroy all of that,
And as a reminder
the blisters on my fingers show that I’m a fighter,
I’ve just had to change lanes.
We all fall,
But we don’t all get back up.
Judge me from a far,
Once destined to be a star,
You now may think of me as a looser,
That I have been dropped out,
That I have given up,
But you’re wrong to doubt me,
I’m still standing,
I’m just leaning,
Got my crutch whilst I’m healing,
It’s more of a feeling,
Like how longs a piece of string,
Or the distance from the floor to the ceiling,
Then a measurement of time that can be reeled in.
So delicate,
Yet still strong,
I want to prove the ignorant wrong,
But that is not where my strength comes from,
At my lowest,
When all those around me had given up,
You stood up to give me a chance,
It sounds sickly to say that I have been saved by romance,
But all I ever needed was to feel unconditionally loved for the longest time,
As long as me memory serves me,
My history,
So many have left me permanently,
Not hot and cold,
My sensitivities persieve that as bitter,
I need continuity,
Consistency,
Not inconsistency,
Blinding me,
Leaving me in now way too familiar territory,
I once thought my only hope was a magical remedy,
To give me credibility,
To get back on the right tracks of my journey,
To get back to being strong,
But we were all wrong,
The super glue I need to keep things together,
In order to get better,
Even on rainy days,
Misty and blue,
Was always you,
I was destined to meet you,
You let me hold onto you and you hold onto me too.
You’re my one true perfection,
So that’s one for that list,
With your help I am slowly administrating personal correction,
And under your protection,
Just like this imperfection list in question,
I know some day,
I’m going to make it through,
Change lanes,
And all those closed doors,
I’m gonna burst right through!
It is hard to be me,
Hard to be with me gauging by history,
You’re making it look easy,
One more positivity,
You,
You make me happy to be me,
Confident to know that I will one day gather more control of BPD,
Feel less heavy from all the pain,
Be able to manage and restrain,
And hopefully be free,
Feeling lighter,
With a higher ratio of positivity,
Enabling my rehabilitation to be the best me.

Who The Fuck Cares, But I Don’t know You!

I know you think me rude,
But that opinion is misconstrued,
As it is you that intrudes,
I don’t respond because I don’t know you!
A Hi here,
A Hi there,
Direct,
Public,
And I’m quite sick of it,
God knows,
Who exactly are you?
Years have passed,
And my memories of you did not last.
The truth is,
I’d rather you stopped all of these messages,
As our “relationship” has ended,
Whatever platonic,
In your eyes ecstasy we may have had,
You are a figure of my past,
Time and dignity may have stopped you,
But I still receive messages of new,
And I still have no fucking clue,
Just who the hell are you?
Being terribly British,
I have not found the right words,
As to not offend,
But terminally end,
Whatever we had,
That is driving me mad,
As I don’t have a clue,
Just who the fuck are you?
So I have just not replied,
Avoiding offence, confrontation or violence,
But please,
Let this sink in,
My silence,
It’s deliberate,
A polite rejection,
Of your eager attention,
As I don’t want to upset you,
But you must acknowledge,
I just don’t know you.

Destined For Disaster…

Staring at the wall again,
Trying to remember when,
Everything was so good back then,
Looking back at photo’s,
Trawling through social media,
The filtered photo’s deceive ya,
Me and the Girls,
Me and the Boys,
Cocktails,
Mocktails,
Endless joys,
Youth,
Freedom,
Expression,
Creativity,
Power,
Sexy,
Sassy,
PARTY!
Those years were golden,
I now understand the phrase,
But gradually everyone has grown,
Moved on,
Progressed to the next phase,
Transitioned in only the best ways,
Detached from the old days,
And the only one left in pain,
Sad and angry,
Is me!
Stuck in a rut,
The door hammered shut,
I am so far removed from them,
They don’t bat an eyelid,
But even if they did,
They don’t see,
They don’t recognise me,
I am the lone soldier,
That basks in the memories,
That they did leave.
How is it fair,
That those who have done me wrong,
Have moved forward,
Happy and strong?
I was insignificant then,
And I am insignificant now.
Staring at the wall again,
Straining to remember when,
There were no voices.
What shall I do?
Take some pills and end it?
Make myself bleed to control it?
Talk to someone?
I cannot.
If things don’t mend and positively change,
I just don’t think I can go on.
Anchored by trauma,
Separating me from old dreams,
Repelling dreams a new,
I loose my desire to push for a break through,
I cannot foresee anything,
I feel so weak,
Not strong,
Perhaps I was destined for despair all along!?

Anti-Clockwise

All of a sudden you hit a brick wall,
And in slow motion you begin to fall,
Before crashing,
Like a phone malfunction,
Or computer virus,
Unbeknownst to yourself!
System down,
No control,
You’ve been hacked.
You have been rewound back in time,
Stolen,
Kidnaped,
Catapulted through an anti-clockwise time blurring tornado,
Until an abrupt reset and play.
You are back in a place where chapters were closed,
Forgotten,
And knowingly,
Once locked,
And blocked,
From your memory.
Somehow things just don’t seem or feel right,
Unsteady feet,
Disorientated,
Unable to recognise the difference between day and night,
Black and White,
It’s neither,
It’s either,
Possibly both,
Between the lines,
In the thick of grey.
Clues are there all the while,
But the chimes you cannot hear,
And the hands you cannot see.
You have been here before,
Yet this is unfamiliar territory,
You recognise the place,
Everyone’s face,
But something is awry,
Not natural or what they are supposed to be,
Because this is the second time around,
It just took a while to see,
Identify that,
I was picked up and dropped but the timing is off key.
Your hopes,
Your dreams,
And your achievements muffled.
What was,
What is,
What will be,
Scrambled.
Friends,
Family,
Loved ones misplaced,
You have stumbled,
Tripped,
And scratched your memory chip,
Lost time,
Gone back in time,
At the same time somewhere the eye cannot see,
Unsure of visions or reality,
Trying to find your feet,
But everything is off beat,
Your mind and your body,
They have been separated,
Ripped apart,
Running wild on emotions,
Lead by the heart,
My chaos just a muse for other peoples art.
I was trying to pick up from where we had left off,
But our journey had already ended.
I was supposed to start again,
But instead of somewhere new,
They took me back to you,
Where everything started.
Old friends,
Old home,
Old life.
My situation gave us a second shot,
But our relationships had already rot,
I was just dazed and confused,
The chapter had ended,
The book had been closed,
This jigsaw puzzle burnt,
I forgot and you entertained it,
For reasons I know not,
Curiosity?
You could not have also forgot?
Ten years of no contact,
Or silence,
Is an awful lot!
I regressed to a younger self,
Of cause we were older now,
Yet this didn’t play on my mind,
Everything was old,
It took time to feel new,
To catch up and be on the same page.
Trauma,
Relocation,
Life was like an animation,
I didn’t really know what was going on.
Reaching out to what I thought was safe,
Familiar,
Not recognising that we were strangers now,
Unfamiliar.
It’s double confirmed now,
I understand.
Nostalgia is sweet,
But one must learn when to accept defeat.
I thought I had been bought back to make amends,
That an old place,
Meant familiar faces,
Thus reigniting relationships with old friends,
I was so sure,
I didn’t hold back,
I lay it on thick,
And when cracks appeared,
I honestly feared,
That we had gone full circle,
And that this is where the book would end.
You ran away from me.
I understand now.
I might have even done the same,
If I didn’t recognise,
Dig deep from curiosity,
Or just blatantly see,
The shell of a body,
But oozing with dazed mentality.
I had forgotten about the silence,
The time lapse,
And therefor pushed,
But it was a force already broken.
I only realised this the other day,
Now that I am more content,
After letting you’ll go,
And finding my own way.
Our second chance is an inexplicable mystery,
The wrong path to take on my journey to recovery,
I needed a pillar,
But it was not for you to lean upon,
So let us lay it now to bed,
I meant you no harm,
And did not mean to do you wrong,
I think we are all content now,
To remember one another,
But move on.