[POEM] Overturned evenings

Fingertips lace against the thin film of sleep
Endlessly and without successful reverie
And she keeps her eyes wide open, in hope
She will spot the sandman knocking at her door.

Cold air washes over her old bones left in the
Mortal realm of consciousness. She wilts,
A broken flower that feeds on starlight in her
Dreams. She begins to weaken into herself daily.

Bleached beneath alter darkness, skin flushes
With desperation. Mind forgets and numbs as
Pill after pill tumbles past her lips and down the
Cavern of her throat. Her roots are stuck in her bed.

Alone, as anyone beneath moonlight with wide
Quiet eyes always is. Her brown orbs hush deeply.
The silence echoes around her as her heart begs.
Let me visit my dreams once more. Let me live.

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[POEM] .

I can feel their grip tightening today.
Where reality becomes as tenuous
As the breath from my imagined
Demons. Which should I turn
My cheek to?

Reaching for their overdue pay.
They make living just as arduous
As the dreams that blackened
My heart. How should I burn
My sins away?

I curl myself into comforts that
Stretch as far as time, but penetrate
Shallow into my soul. When will
I be whole. When should I battle
For my life?

Vision turns angled and flat.
Sounds bombard me and reverberate
Through bleached bones. My pill
Won’t make me whole. Who will rattle
My chains for freedom?

Darkness and coffin surround
Me unseen, until I bury myself,
With only my imagination to weep
At my death. What has this
Sorry life become?

[POEM] Sometimes

It still strikes within my broken body
When I had thought it was dying a death.

It turns, grinning and moving wildly
And reminds me of its depth and breadth.

All consuming, it pushes in madly
Demanding I give it each ragged breath.

All sense of time and true reality
Leaves me, as does my soul’s wealth.

[DEPRESSION] 2 weeks over – What now?

Two weeks have passed, and though my sleeping has improved (Wahey waking up at 5am instead of somewhere around 3am), I now feel anxious when I wake up.

My mind unpleasantly wrestles me from sleep at full strength, whirring before I even know sleep is over. My dreams are vivid, but I don’t remember most of them and that suits me just fine.

Queasy, reactive stomach, though my libido seems… fine? Not under-active and it’s resurfaced after a long depression related dormant period.

BUT – I actually felt feelings yesterday. And once the day before. I almost giggled in public, and I actually felt endorphins when I went to the gym. So instead of being permanently grey or irritated, or hateful, I have actually begun to feel some joy.

I really didn’t realise how much it had been missing from my life until I felt that little spark. It was such a shock, and such an alien feeling that it actually hurts a little, and makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable at moments.

But I’m looking forward to learning how to feel and be vulnerable again, which I haven’t had to do in a long time.

Vulnerability is something I’ll have to focus on.

[DEPRESSION] Week 2 of Prozac

Sleep. Sleep has finally started to come back to me somewhat.

The first week was queasy spells, sleepless nights (waking up at 3am), some anxiety, exhaustion, confusion, forgetfullness and continuous yawning. The acid reflux was pretty bad, too, and I found myself eating more to cope with the stress. First day I was incredibly suicidal, thoughts of self harm continuously and crying in the bathrooms at work, and even more at home.

Week 2, waking up is less painful. I actually get a half decent sleep, though I’m still exhausted and my stomach is still upset and showing the signs. Heart burn is still worse than usual, and I’m completely forgetful. I’ll move to do something, only to forget instantly what it is I’m supposed to be doing.

Less gym due to low energy, which also means back pain. Eating less now, barely ate yesterday. Heavy palpitations for hours, feeling sick, anxious, work was a bit too much. I’m definitely improving, just slowly. I’m hoping the positive effects start soon.

Palpitations seem to have started again, and I’m so distracted I can barely focus.

 

How I’ve pulled through it? By allowing myself more treats, more time to myself, being less hard on myself, taking time to relax and pushing myself to be comfortable with help.

I’ve been lucky enough to have so much support from the people around me, and though I feel uncomfortable accepting help, I’ve pushed myself to do it. It’s helped A LOT, and I feel like I’m actually enjoying things a little again.

[POEM] Tell me

Tell me how I should love you, while
Numb to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Tell me how I should feel one with you,
Though I am a shattered creation by myself.
Tell me how you survive on such meagre
Rations as hope. Gruel in replacement for
The constant love I once gave to you.

Tell me how I should love you, me
Who is full of hate and black storms.
Tell me how I should feel when I can’t
Even touch your skin without sorrow.
Tell me how you continue to hold stars
In your eyes for me when I am nought
But uncertainty and suffering.

Tell me how I used to love you, with
Clutching hands and certain chest.
Tell me how I used to feel, your soft
Skin quickening and comforting at once.
Tell me how you felt when you first
Found out that my soul was dying, and
Fast behind it was racing my heart.

I will tell you I love you, soon,
And know I mean it to my depths.
I will feel you, whole, and become lost
In your world of faeries and darkness.
You will wonder how we could have
Ever been otherwise, you and I.
You probably already do.

How we could have ever been full of love,
When now you are time and patience, and
I am pain. Shadow beaten pain.

[Depression] Day three on Prozac

Prozac is giving me heavy pressures and little rest from the waking dullness of the day. Emotions have begun to actually happen, but sleepless nights lay behind and ahead of me with tepid carelessness.

Side effects settle slowly, and I have a long span of fighting ahead of me, trying to cope until the pills start to work. The listlessness is fine, and being mostly void of feelings is also fine. But the body aches and pains, the headaches and the exhaustion that can’t be lessened is difficult.

I seem to find myself full of restless energy but exhausted at the same time. I’m comfort eating (mostly because I’m allowing myself – I’m learning not to stretch myself too thin again)

Maybe it’s time for copious amounts of tea? If anyone has advice on what can help a full time worker make the symptoms more bearable, I’m all ears.

I’ve read it can take a month. Some people say ten days.

[POEM]

Mindless box kept aloft on strength
Built on years of plugging on
Without thought. Without sense.
What other strength is there,
Besides this fog of desensitization?
What other meaning besides making
It through and back to the Earth
As unscathed as humanly possible.
And taking the longest to get there.

Head hung, weighltess atop this
Weighty body. Power built for what?
Not for any real purpose, not for
The battle she keeps expecting to come.
She has trained the wrong muscle.
Left her brain and feelings to rot
Beneath the leachings of modern
Disease, not so modern and just
Crossed wires of back then and now.

Hopeless, and waiting for a pill to
Numb this numbness she has
Built to survive. Built to revive
Herself from the pain, but she does
Not remember that fire and ashes
Bring new life, not soft and safe
Surroundings.

Build your nest on needles and sheer
Cliffs, young bird, and watch yourself
Die.

[Self Help] St John’s Wort, self therapy & facing medication

This is coming from a person who has so far come into so many ‘walls’ with the NHS that she’s too tired to try anymore.

They’ve had me crying on the phone while arguing with me about their professionalism, keep expecting me to be able to drop an hour out of my day to provide the same information I’ve provided over and over again (an hour of my working day, where I would then have to return to work in an overly emotional state) and have informed me that my wage means I -should- be paying £30 an hour when I am distinctly quite broke living in London.

I have started facing the idea of medication with no professional aid, despite the fact that Mind recommends only using medication for severe depression, and that it shouldn’t be your sole method of recovery.

I loathe the idea of going back on to medication, but the constant exhaustion and reliance on cigarettes, alcohol and other substances to cope is too much. I’ve fooled myself with looking at over the counters, such as St John’s Wort, because I don’t want side effects that come with my pills. I keep thinking if I just keep carrying on and trying my best to live that eventually I will start to live. It’s become my daily lie, mostly because I’m exhausted. The smaller part of me, however, has just given up hope I can ever lead a functioning life without physical pain, mental anguish and often times a total lack of emotions plaguing me on a daily basis.So, I’m heading back to medication, and hopefully with a good dose of healthy eating, exercise, meditation and spending my money on happiness instead of image… Who knows, I might at least find myself again.

I don’t take this decision lightly, and neither should anyone else. I have deliberated, spoken to my nearest and most trusted friends. Most of my friends always ask “Have you seen your Doctor? Why aren’t you in therapy?” continuously, which is less than helpful. I feel accused, as if I’m choosing to be ill, and maybe that’s what pushed me to now think of medication again.

I didn’t hate the medication, but I hated the lack of care and information my doctors had. When I said I wanted to come off them, they didn’t have a conversation with me, they didn’t seem concerned. It was just “Do you feel able to come off them? Ok, taper them off… ” and I was told how to reduce dosage until I didn’t need my tablets anymore.
They don’t seem to realise I was first diagnosed 13 years ago. I know I’m the best judge of my mental state, but surely coming off medication warrants some sort of check up? A couple of therapy sessions while you begin to cope with normal life?
Things went wrong, I heaved and almost threw up due to my body’s reaction to coming off my meds in the way they suggested. I was told this was abnormal – ok fine – but after being given further medication advice that contradicted Mind I just said enough was enough. I was done trusting these people who obviously had no idea what they were doing.

I hate that I have to trust these people AGAIN. I don’t want to trust them. I have the distinct impression they don’t care, even though they assure me they do while I sit and weep in the patient’s chair, livid and exhausted.

I’m rambling now. I hope any of you with mental health problems have better facilities you can reach out to, and if not please do use any resources you can.

You can do this.