Upon mind and body Only then When ecstasies and agonies Are allowed to coexist
Can true love be found. Such is this I lay before you My Ode To True Love. My love for you Is as gushing As a burst abcess As intense As the agony From a gangrenous toe And as teasingly Unpredictable As a bucket of vomit On a trampoline. Indeed Through all of this And more You Are truly loved.
Why do some people when commemorating a deceased persons birth date, you know, someone who's been gone from this immoral coil for a considerable amount of time...why do they insist on saying things like ...
"If he'd have been here with us today...Great Uncle Gerald would have been 135 years old" Why make a point of this as if it's an amazing achievement? I mean, it would have been an amazing achievement if Great Uncle Gerald HAD been with us today at the age of 135, if only for the TV appearances and cake.....but he isn't.....so, it's not!!! We don't apply this strange reference to anything else do we?...and there's a reason for that...it's 'cos it's daft! It's like me saying "If my childhood dog, Sandy, was here now...he'd be 350 years old. Yeah...he just...he just went too soon, you know!" And how far back do you want to take this stuff?...If Tutankhamen was with is today he'd be 3,359 years old"...*releases wistful sigh*... I'll shut up now...
Quite rightly we are urged to talk about our mental state of being. To share whatever is going on in our head with someone we trust. But sometimes, as much as you want to talk, the words won't come. They buzz about your head in a scramble each tripping over the other and you are desperate to sort them into an orderly line so they make sense. So you can seek the help you need. So the person you are talking to can understand you. So the disjointed babble in your head will cease its jumbled racket! And because that is so hard to do, sometimes, it's easier not to try because HOW can you make that phone call. HOW can you talk to a family member or anyone, for that matter. HOW can you begin to tell someone what's happening in your head when you are afraid that any words spilling from your mouth will be illegible and you'll just feel humiliated and you fear being ridiculed?? And that's the other thing.... FEAR. All of this is frightening and that fear can trigger other reactions and sensations until you feel you are plummeting ever downwards and you're NEVER going to climb back up. Never going to unscramble those words. Never going to be understood. Never going to get to understand yourself. NEVER going to be able to manage whatever it is you are dealing with in your head. But......with the right help...I believe that you CAN manage to do all of those things! Although, that help has to be that which best fits you and that may take some time in the finding, still, every step you take towards seeking the help that's right for you is a step towards unscrambling those jumbled words. And I know this 'cos I'm still taking those steps myself and I'm still working on unscrambling my words and for me, writing is helping me do that. Nevertheless, coping with ones own mental state isn't easy and pressures exist that seem to work against us and I feel that some of those pressures involve certain members of society who, by their reasoning, are only doing what they consider best to help us. However, to some degree, I feel they serve to exacerbate our situation...purely by their addressing our personal issues in one clump...by their categorising and subsequently 'treating' us as a group rather than the individuals that we are. Of course, for the sake of managing mental health matters in society given the scale of its presence, there has to be a degree of order but AS a society we must not lose track of the person beneath the issue. We are each one of a kind. It is dehumanising to treat us as a collective. Give us the chance to allow our nuances a voice...even if that voice is only a whisper at first.
(a poem relating to this blog titled 'THEY TELL YOU' can be accessed by clicking this link:)
(a blog relating to and preceding this poem titled 'LISTEN' can be accessed by clicking this link)
They tell you to TALK And you know that you should
And you wish that you could
But you can't
'Cos the words in your head
Are a jumbled up mess
Just a rant
You cannot express
Why you're feeling depressed
When the feelings you're dealing with
Not even you understand
They tell you to CALM
And the panic gets worse
When you hear that one word
And it starts
That dizzy weak feeling
Your inner voice screaming
As your heart
Pumps dangerously faster
As you face disaster
And death Whilst they're still persisting That you stop resisting and chill! They tell you to BREATHE And God knows you want to But air cannot pass through Your throat Invisible fingers that linger squeeze tight As you choke Whilst their mantra's mounting Their "in and out"chanting's No aid To your situation of fear and frustration And pain
They tell you to SWALLOW And outstretch their hand And expect on command You comply Say if you stop wallowing Take meds and start swallowing You'll be fine But the banter they canter through Doesn't convince you at all It just adds to your issues Which refuse to defuse And you fall
I ask them to THINK To stop the stock statements And try to replace them With words Not taken from textbooks 'Cos cliche stamped rebukes Don't work They just serve to distance And trigger resistance To help And being barcoded corrodes and erodes Mental health
I ask US to WORK Together wherever to sever The pigeonhole style That labels and brands and demands That we're categorised We may seem the same on the outside But deep, down beneath We're different so make that distinction Treat us as unique Then maybe the talking will happen When we each adjust The moment we're heard but not herded And they've earned our TRUST