Tag: mental health

Sadness

Sadness is leaking
Like broken plumbing
Sewage of pain
Better out than in ey?

Trying to stop the leak
With bad habits
Chocolate
Mainly

No drugs
Never drugs
Brain on emotional rollercoaster
And it keeps spilling everywhere

If you don’t watch it
It will stick to you
After a hug with me
I don’t want that

So I leave
Walk alone
In the dark
In the woods

I am not scared
I am the woods
I breathe the silence
I am never alone

They all died
Slowly
Painfully
The perpetrators
Cheating me out of my revenge

What now?
I have no choice
But to heal now
It’s painful
Healing

Scars hurt, itch, bother
Sadness leaks everywhere
Like a flood of gue
I can’t stop it

So I just let it leak
Let it spill out
Send it on it’s way
It will stop eventually

I know

Unseen

You need no mask
You need no hiding

You walk unseen
Amongst the living

Yet you can hear
Can listen

They speak
About your strength
your beauty
your light
your resilience

You hear
Yet are unseen

Until
that day
on which
you learn
that it was you
who didn’t see
yourself

that is
the day
you start breathing

An act of writing

Is an act of self-care
An act of connecting
An act of healing
An act of civic duty
An act of kindness
An act of giving voice

Voice to the voiceless
the unseen
the unheard

Sometimes just
the unseen parts of us
the unheard sorrows
the unwitnessed joys that pepper loneliness and make it more acute

An act of writing
Is an act of being
An act of forgiving
An act of punishing

An act of self-truth
I am never that far away from my writing

An act of writing
Is holding up the mirror
to our selves–if we want or not
we are blindsided into looking at our reflection

The mirror is sneaky like that

An act of writing is weaving threads
We are all one
In the end

Just White Noise

White noise
Everywhere

Inside me
Outside you

White Noise
Permeates life

Can’t think
Can’t feel

White noise
Screaming silence

Too much in
No filter out

White noise
No escape

Until at night
You wrap your arms around me

ADHD Emotional Pain

#ADHD

When you feel like a fraud because you can’t just:

Just answer that email
Just take that call
Just hear what he is saying
Just remember what she just asked you to do
Just not cry before a meeting
Just call customer service
Just not feel as if you are making it up
Just not feel helpless
Just pay the bills
Just not forget lunch in the fridge for weeks
Just not have burning skin because of too much

Just not be muddled
Just not be messy
Just not be moody

Just not have a rotten banana in your backpack since before Christmas
Just not have an anxiety attack in a meeting

Just be normal?
Be normal!
Be normal!

Not feel like a drama queen
Not feel as if you are constantly asking for things others don’t need
Not be so emotional ALL THE TIME
Not question your sanity after trying to scan your staff card at the water cooler
Not have brain fog
Not have ALL the emotions

Did I mention the emotions?

Self-doubt

Underneath the storm-clouds
I am tossed and thrown about

Above the stormy clouds
I am calm without self-doubt

The rainbow and the sunshine
Are building me a bridge

Out of my forlornness
Out of my self-made ditch

Translating Reality

You live in a hostile world
There are monsters everywhere

Trust no one!

Your peaceful you seeks solace
Even in company

Your angry you
A tornado of defense and attack

In the aftermath
You don’t remember

Blurred lines
Blurred pictures
No emotions

He said, she said
‘Actually that’s not what happened.’

I translate
The skewed reality
Into something less hostile
I put bridles on the monsters

Then one day
Your peaceful you
Your angry you
Met
They shook hands

Now the monsters are gone

Dear Bum

Body Image Recovery

I wield a sizable bum,
As shapely and wide as they come.
With a wiggle of my hip,
I make the scales tip,
Bringing down, without a frown,
The most obnoxious clown.

Another of my woes,
My chubby Hobbit toes,
Adorning Hobbit-ish feet,
Which never miss a beat,
Stepping, tapping, moving to gigs,
Bringing along aforementioned hips.

If you care to look close,
There is my Romanesque nose.
Thanks to the brute,
I will never look cute,
But if I am ever out of a job,
I could work as drug-sniffing dog.

Now genetics are mostly to blame
For cellulite and varicose veins
I got nothing here to address this matter
Though without my veins and skin I would certainly not be better*

Therefore, I must conclude:
Dear hips, toes and brute,
You have served me well so far,
Despite not hitting the bar,
We dance, hike, smell, jump and run,
And have a heck lot of fun.

*Editing I realised that verse could be cut out. (2024)