anxiety · depression · grief · help · mental health · paranoia · poetry · reading · stigma · suicide · support

Loneliness

lonely

The dictionary definition of loneliness translates as…

Sadness because one has no friends or company.
‘Feelings of depression and loneliness’

The fact of being without companions; solitariness.
‘The loneliness of a sailor’s life’

(of a place) the quality of being unfrequented and remote; isolation.
‘The loneliness of the farm’

Loneliness is a feeling everyone would have or will be familiar with, as to some extent we have all felt lonely even when logically it might not make sense. By that I mean for example feeling lonely within a relationship, or lonely in a house full of people who love you, feeling lonely despite receiving help and support in difficult times… sometimes loneliness doesn’t apply to the obvious situations but can apply to a deep despairing feeling which follows you wherever you go.

I cannot speak on behalf of many but for myself when I am in a bad place and am told to reach out, or to speak out and that others are there for me I start to worry. As so often I have tried to explain that when I’m in this place where my mental health and especially my personality disorder can get the better of me I don’t even recognise who I am for a while. In this place I am not entirely myself and having others say they understand makes me feel more lonely, having others say they are there for me then getting freaked out or feeling judged by my erratic behaviour makes me feel more lonely, opinions and fireadvice I did not ask for can make me feel more lonely. So automatically out of fear of upsetting others or being seen as ungrateful I withdraw inwards to a place where I feel I might be safer, as emotionally I am already on fire the idea of being burnt even slightly more scares me to death, as death is literally what passes through my mind every few seconds. If only these emotions could come and go but they just burn and burn inside of me with no logic to why they are so intense it causes my body and mind to shut down.

I wish I came with a manual so I knew what to say when others asked what they need to do or say, or what can help me, but I am not myself I actually don’t know… I can imagine being a friend, being anyone close to me at this time would be hard. Not sure how I would cope if I didn’t already know what this feels like, it can’t be easy but that only makes me want to withdraw more and be less of a burden. loe
But loneliness echo’s within me.
I could compare this experience to feeling l
ike a baby crying out with no idea what is happening and wanting to be comforted from this pain but having no one there, just people staring at me wondering why I’m so distraught with no evidence to reason. Until eventually I stop crying and bury the feelings, but they are buried alive and sometimes they come to surface with no warning then you all see the demons, then I am lost to an overwhelming desperation to put out the fire, to find some comfort to not feel so achingly alone I go back to being like that child.

Silence is not golden when it comes to mental health and my words are not always comforting, maybe often not useful, could sometimes even be seen as offensive but they are true and a living reality for me and many others.

I often cannot speak about it, I also struggle to take this mask of ‘auto-pilot’ off to show whats happening on the inside, but I can write, and I will write if not only to remind me but also others that we are not ever truly alone no matter how alone we might feel.
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‘I’m here for you’ those lips state,
But where have you gone?
You want me to answer your questions…
like I come with a manual once I’m broken.
We’ve all forgotten haven’t we?
So obsessed with ME!
How could you be there for me?
You don’t even know where I am.

 

anxiety · bipolar · bpd · depression · help · mental health · paranoia · poetry · stigma

No love lost

Another strangers eyes breaks my gaze,
hands slip up my leg without a phase.
Another strangers lips touch mine,
as our bodies start to intertwine.
To bed I bring hope and chance,
As we go about our midnight dance.
Yet in the morning I feel guilt and shame,
This stranger only knows my name.
He has not even glimpsed within,
their interests go no deeper than skin.
Romanced myself into another dream,
Fuelled by the drink is currently the theme!
Arrived feeling lost, left feeling void,
not even angry, not even annoyed.
Why is the only question? Why I exclaim!?
Don’t I wait for a love which is mine to proclaim.

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bpd · mental health · poetry · spoken word

Time

What do we seek in time and space?

When we leave this world without a trace.

Our ashes might fly into the night sky,

Or dirt may lay on what was once called ‘me’.

Who I am right here means just the same as I was there,

I’m a mystery, an illusion, I’m filled with fantasy and confusion.

What I am to you I was something completely different to someone else.

Part of your thoughts and feelings made me who I am, and will make me who I was.

So why hang onto it all? Our memories, our emotions and our possessions,

Our opinions, our hates, and our lifelong obsessions? 

They will not fly with us into the night sky,

Nor lay with us for eternity as this thing we call time passes us by.

Seek and you shall find,

Escape the walls put up by your mind.

a-trip-through-time-and-beyond

mental health · poetry · reading · stigma

The Sea

You cannot tame the sea,
So why try to tame me?
Forever a child,
My life cannot be predictable or mild.
Do not put the bird in the cage,
It only causes resentment and rage.
Beauty is in this storm,
It whistles and howls always changing form.
Loving her can be like a war,
But no truer love was ever saw.
I love you as you are,
Was only ever whispered from afar.
Up close you see me as strange,
This child you want to change.
But you cannot tame the sea,
So why try to tame me?

Wild Seas xsm adjusted

anxiety · depression · mental health · paranoia · poetry · reading · spoken word · stigma

Empty Screens & Empty Faces

How do I discover my place in this life, where do I fit in?
All that I see in front of me does not gratify the burning need within.
Doomed to feel lonesome while the world continues online,
While here on the outside I find so little to truly call mine.
Who am I out here? Who am I to you?
A profile picture, a twitter account, or someone you can relate to…
I’m not trying to hate or judge nor attempting to offend,
But people seem less genuine in person now and that statement I will defend.
As who takes the time for coffee anymore?
Who looks up from their phone for a moment, to politely hold open the door?
When was the last time you had a date without using an app?
Or the last time you didn’t scroll through your phone when taking a nap?
Have we become powerless with our eyes always glued to a screen!
Missing out on the world around us questioning ‘what does this life really mean?’
The nation calls us zombies walking around like the ‘living dead’,
To get things off our chest, we don’t speak to one another but write a status instead.
Apparently they used to write letters taking the time to know what to say,
Now we just violently tap our phones shoving our feelings out there on display.
Imagine if we went back in time where all this technology didn’t exist,
I feel our relationships with people might be deeper and not so easily dismissed.
I know society doesn’t often allow it but why don’t we try to put our phones down,
Step out the front door and discover real life, not being concerned about others around.
Let’s go back to the basics of human nature and learn how to interact,
Discovering ourselves and the world once more without the internet to distract.
As life isn’t happening on those screens with no heartbeat or face,
It’s here and its surrounding you, so lift up your eyes and don’t let it go to waste.

Handy-Wahn-Video

depression · grief · help · news · poetry · reading · support

Diagnosis

How cruel you are to sneak in now,

Leaving us with no time to even process how!?

To cut short our time with no courtesy or forewarning,

Leaving our hearts anxious and sad already aching and mourning.

You enter our lives with scarcely a trace,

Deadly yet silent until you expose your ugly face.

Stealing our last breath as you take one of your many forms,

Making us work desperately still searching for cures.

But just hearing your name consumes us with fear,

How much time do we have left, will they even survive the year?

Sometimes all we can do is beg and pray.

That you won’t take them from us, that they will be able to stay.

Too many lives have been claimed by you incapable to escape,

Here for what feels like just a moment, then gone without a trace.

Just know we are coming for you, we want our revenge!

For all the lives you’ve taken from us we will fight back and avenge.

But for those who have just heard your name and are filled with doubt and fright,

Do not fear, take courage as so many more are refusing to say their final goodnight.

help-friend.jpg

bpd · depression · help · mental health · poetry · reading · stigma · suicide

The Last Chapter

(WARNING: potential trigger alert)

 

The gentle fizzing noise in the background soothes my spinning mind,

Finally no need for any answers, no need for any lies.

Soon this will all be over, no more fighting anymore,

Just take another sip and keep an eye on the door.

Though mainly used for headaches, this substance numbs my pain,

The more I seem to drink the less I have to explain.

A few more deep breaths and then my head falls on the floor,

Eyes are starting to close, I guess only dying has won me this war.

 

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