Stay on my shore

I often visit the sea in a little boat in my dreams and when I meditate. There’s more on this to come soon. I love the words in this beauty. At the moment my boat is broken out on the rocks. But I’m letting the smoke do the cleaning, the pages of my story are about to begin. Happy adventures all.

Stay on my shore, and don’t desert me
And if you go, the wind will blow you back to me
And if your boat is broken out on the rocks
It wasn’t anger but a longing
We feed the birds, syrup and seed
So they stay near, so we can see

Flashing red and blue amid the green
When the fruit has long since rotten
Rolled in the needles and wrecked our skin
Gave it all to be empty
Wrapped in leaves, wet and clinging
In reeds, so holy

We split the cord
Of cedar and holly
And lie indoors
Let the smoke do the cleaning
And sweeten our skin with the salt and a stone
There’s the pages of our story

Joan Shelley

Fight/ Flight

phlegm-fight-or-flightFight me again and I’ll stand once more,

I’ll see the good in your fist and take it again.

What’s another bruise on something already so broken?

I fight the tears that heave out in an ugly mess,

Bubbling with the mew of an animal in a snare.

Take your aim and I’ll defend you rather than myself,

I’ll help you drive the arrow home.

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Take flight, I won’t blame you,

Soar free on your own ego and tell yourself more lies.

Just don’t fly too high because your wings will burn.

I know, my bloody stumps where they were cut remain.

I fight because its all I know,

Just sometimes I want to glide on an upstream,

Feel the joy of the air and dare to be,

But it scares me so much I give in.

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Unable to focus I want to walk and not stop,

To drive into the night to an unknown destination,

To find my wings again and join the stars.

But I’m still here with the broken pieces,

Most of them are not even my own.

I glue the fragments and pieces, I fill the gaps,

It’s never enough.

 

Fail For You

This is getting hard to bare
Face it I’m not getting through
I don’t even think you care

All the things I want for you
I have been your champion
So why do you walk awayI, bought you the sky
And the oceans too
By, the look in your eye
The only thing I couldn’t do
Was fail for you
Don’t ask me to fail for you

My neck is so it down with gold
My glory always on display
Strangers in this street behold
You just turn your head away

I will be your victory
Still, you walk away

I, bought you the sky
And the oceans too
By, the look in your eye
The only thing I couldn’t do
Was fail for you
Fail for you
Fail for you
Fail for you
Fail for you
Fail for you
Fail for you
Fail for you

Letting go…

It’s over, dead, gone. There is no going back only forward. I need to make room for all the love that’s out there and being thrown at me in abundance. So today I’m lettin go…


Letting go means more room for giving and recieving love. Today this is my affirmation. Tomorrow it’ll be something more. I’m excited about my new adventure. 

Walking

The trouble with walking so far is getting back.

Every gate I open has to be closed in case I set the beasts free.

Every footprint retrod in a different way.

All the effort with none of the anticipation.

A glance to check only my shadow follows.

The world is big and I am small.

The day has turned tail with me.

I’m back to the safe and known,

I’m back to something new and unknown.

A Year

Inside it was damp and stank like the garage, too many winters had passed.

It was full of snail shells, skeleton leaves and the big chest freezer.

 

You saw something in there, a hideaway, where I saw old,

You pushed your way through years of uncollected belongings.

 

You pulled out forgotten items of no use and found a purpose,

You began to make the unloved beautiful again.

 

That Spring you flung open the windows and let sunlight warm the darkest corner,

You dared to build from what others said was rubbish.

 

 

That Summer I grew things and tended them for it felt OK to dream,

We ate them greedily whilst sitting on an old palette bench in the sunshine.

 

The year grew on and we marched amongst the red apples and purple berries.

The fruits began to fall, their bitter decay intoxicating and vile.

 

As Winter came and the light dimmed you became distant and cruel,

We had a fire to keep and searched for solace amongst its flames.

 

The nights grew longer and the black filled our hearts.

Little by little the dream became frostbitten and bare.

 

One day you were not in the garden, or the house or anywhere.

I searched but only found more emptiness.

 

Brambles and ivy crept through the garden and into my heart,

I clawed at them to be rewarded with their thorns embedded in my skin.

 

With one last attempt to keep warm and see the winter through I lit the fire.

This time it was inside, the house and inside myself.

 

It raged and burnt in glory, its sharp tongues licked but provided no warmth.

For days it burnt with choking black smoke.

 

Inside it is charred and hollow, inside me is charred and hollow,

I’m waiting for you to clear the ashes and let them become the earth again.

You+Me

 

You and me were always with each other
Before we knew the other was ever there
You and me, we belong together
Just like a breath needs the air

I told you if you called I would come runnin’
Across the highs, the lows and the in-betweens
You and me we’ve got two minds that think as one
And our hearts march to the same beat

They say everything it happens for a reason
You can be flawed enough, but perfect for a person
Someone who will be there for you when you fall apart
Guiding your direction when you’re riding through the dark

Oh that’s you and me

You and me we’re searching for the same light
Desperate for a cure to this disease
Well some days are better than others
But I fear no thing as long as you’re with me

They say everything it happens for a reason
You can be flawed enough, but perfect for a person
Someone who will be there for you when you fall apart
Guiding your direction when you’re riding through the dark

And they say everything it happens for a reason
You can be flawed enough, but perfect for a person
Someone who will be there when you start to fall apart
Guiding your direction when you’re riding through the dark

You + Me

Bubble

When I started to write a post about mental health the other day I deviated. I was supposed to write about mental health in general and ended up just pouring my heart onto the page. So back to the original post…

I have many wonderful and talented friends who my life crosses with for fun, creatively and also with work. A few years ago a former student of mine introduced me to Katie, as we both had Lupus in common (I guess the disease is good for something). Immediately we got it, the whole chronic illness thing and everything that comes with it. To make it even better she’s a fellow creative soul.

We collaborated a few times in our quest for invisible illness advocacy and creative therapy. Over the past year Katie has been away studying for her screen writing  MA. We’ve missed having her around but the best thing is that she’s been growing her amazing talent. I know it’s not been easy with battling the daily illness thing and the lack of support she’s had. That just makes it more inspirational that she wrote and directed an amazing short film, Bubble.

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In Bubble we meet Erica and Paul, a couple struggling. ‘Erica’s desperate to burst Paul out of his depression, but on the first day he takes medication, she pushes too hard.’ The film is not really about the depression or how it manifests. It is about a couple and how their relationship copes with the the effects of depression.

Katie explains:

‘The representation of Depression in modern media is so often the sad person, who takes medication, and is sad. The human experience of a mental health problem, for both the sufferer and loved ones observing, is much more complex.

When spending long periods of time with a loved one experiencing Depression, I realised I had no idea how to help, or how to act around him when a black mood descended. I realised I was making things worse, but had no guidance on how else to be. It was then that I realised that there are no examples of stories or films that I knew of which exemplified what I should or could do for my loved one who was suffering so clearly but so internally.

Bubble endeavours to be one such example.’

I knew a little about what had inspired her and she told me a little more :

‘Two things really. Firstly I watched other short films and wanted to have a go to see what I could manage. And secondly I struggled to know how I could help friends  with their depression, so wanted to explore that.’

The film is a snapshot into understanding mental health from all angles. It cleverly puts emphasis on the couple rather than the illness. I think this comes from Katie’s innate understanding of invisible illnesses of all kind. After all we all live with, and experience the the illness someone has when we are close and care. We all learn to cope with it and don’t always get everything right. Invisible illness needs to be talked about, accepted and challenged.

Ohh and I almost forget to mention it, Bubble is up for an award. It’s part of the  Nottingham International Microfilm Festival Audience Award. You can watch and vote for it here:

Sick in the head

So lets have a little chat about mental health… well my mental health.

I actually don’t know where to start. From about 15 I experienced manic and depressive episodes. I’ve also had severe anxiety for a long long time. There have been a plethora of traumatic life events and my physical health is screwed. But the past few years have been relatively stable for me compared to the past. It’s had its ups and downs.

What I didn’t realise was my relationship, which once allowed me to be me, was becoming toxic. I was being suffocated and dimmed until I didn’t believe in my self any more. At home I was walking on eggshells incase I upset the one person that made me so happy and free. Or shouting because I was literally being ignored and he pretended I wasn’t speaking; I thought I was going crazy. In fact I was told repeatedly I was. I’d be ignored for sleeping on the wrong side of the bed, and cry on my own whilst he went out.

I was lured into staying at home whilst he went out because of my illness and I withdrew more and more. I tried to manipulate time together and control this not realising what I was doing and that something was deeply wrong. Anxiety at leaving the house was returning and I never spoke about my life and what I was doing. I’d listen to hours on end to his problems and help him solve them. Coaching the other person to be a better person and neglecting myself.

My physical health was going hand in hand with this silent gagging. I felt permanently guilty for the unexciting, fat, ugly monster I’d become. He always said it would be ok and I was still beautiful, these were lies.

Then there was the courting other people. Horrid toxic people. My intuition has always been good and alarm bells were ringing. But I was forced to let these people into my home and berated for questioning it. Then came the series of public humiliations in front of them. He was no longer fighting for me, or with me, but hurting me.

Alongside this my physical health with auto-immune was slipping and I couldn’t cope with any of it. I was going to appointments on my own now and feeling very frightened. He got angry when I needed an ambulance. In the end he had to be told it was odd that you’d rather be at work (or maybe fucking that girl) whilst I was having a lumbar puncture.

I was fighting a battle with the world to say I really am sick, please believe me, I’m not a fraud. I’d drive to work in so much pain I’d stop and vomit 3 or 4 times along the way. I let people down and got so muddled. It was like daily torture. I earned less and less and he made me feel like a burden. I desperately tried to keep earning and budgeting. Quite often I was covering up his big mistakes and lavish lifestyle. I agreed to put my name on a huge loan so he could get a brand new motorbike we couldn’t afford that was impractical and feeding his image. I was made to feel bad for not being able to ride it.

I heard my friend’s story about domestic abuse and alarm bells rang. I ignored them because I still believed in him but it was there, I was in love with a narcissist:

  • Love Bombing – He made me feel so special, this was it and I was the one. He promised me the absolute world and went above and beyond to win my love.
  • They can’t admit when they’re wrong. – He never ever said sorry even if he was proven wrong. You’d make me beg for forgiveness or tell me I was going mad.
  • Conversations are one-sided. – in the end I was helping him run his business but he didn’t even realise I was directing a play!
  • They’re really, really ridiculously good looking. I was made to listen to hours of how he got girl’s and guy’s numbers over the bar and was the most good looking guy at work. I was always made to feel lucky then ugly.
  • Their brand of empathy is self-motivated. Being the kindest most generous person in public was his forte, and it tricked us all into thinking he was so kind. It wasn’t like this at hime, the brooding moods and hours of silence or being picked apart showed that.
  • Your needs and requests don’t matter. So in the end I got so sick I couldn’t move, I felt terrible that he was my carer. I’d not ask for ages but then not being able to get upstairs for meds or into the kitchen for food. I’d guiltily ask for help or painkillers. He’d then stretch the time out as long as possible till I’d beg like he had some kind of control. It was torture yet always my fault. And the same was happening with our dogs as he neglected them then blamed me.

So towards the end I couldn’t work and was in and out of hospital. The experts were still saying it was OK, I was not OK. I was in pain most of the time and not coping, I was taking a lot of painkillers and 9 different meds everyday. I didn’t go out or forced myself to be exciting then be in bed for a week in agony.

All of this went on relentlessly and I was trapped in a cycle of pain, misery, bullying. Then we had to move house, I was exhausted. I knew he was cheating but made to feel so awful I didn’t have the self worth left to confront it. I was fucking up work and working like a maniac. I suddenly realised I was having suicidal thoughts.

I was very scared by this point and spent hours fantasising and planning. I tried to voice it but he didn’t listen. I got so sick with migraine I needed an ambulance but he wouldn’t ring one and then abandoned me.

Then out of hospital a week later I had another crippling migraine. I left the wedding we were at telling him why I couldn’t stay. I drove myself 45 minutes home then the vomiting came. I text to see where he was. I now know he was cheating. He came home and his only words were ‘its over there’s no talking about it’. Whilst I was at my weakest and most vulnerable he baled.

That was it for me. The switch finally flipped. My first reaction was flight, so I ran, my head full of ways to hurt myself. But I walked it out and bravely returned to the house to ask like an adult to talk about it. I wanted a reason why, to fight through it. To understand the cruelty and to be stripped of all control over my own life. I know now that he chose this moment because I was so sick and he is a coward. I also think he was in a corner and cheating. This is not how you treat someone after 6 years of building a life together. My voice was smaller than ever.

In one moment my life, trust and my home had gone. I already had lost my work and income and then my health was so bad. There was not an area of my life that was OK.

So I decided to end it. Not for attention or a cry for help. I just wanted peace. It’s hard to say I didn’t want to kill myself but it’s true. I really just wanted to sleep and not wake up. In that moment the pain of the world was just too much and I couldn’t go on. I panicked. I still in a way am annoyed that I wasn’t allowed to make my own choice.

It happened again two weeks later when he said the most terrible things to me after I found proof of the cheating. Even I didn’t realise how low he’d go in the moment of my pure brokeness. Telling someone they are mental and need help doesn’t help them but makes them panic. Panic that everyone will agree and say ‘lucky you escaping from that’. Saying ‘its been dead for years’ is the most hurtful thing he could ever ever say to someone who invested so much. There are things that were said that I cannot even write now as they are too painful. They make me want to vomit they were so degrading and bad. I flipped, went through anger and crazy. I shouted as loud as I could for help to those around me and I was saying I’m not OK. The next thing I knew were the police were climbing through my window and threatening to section me. I had tried to sleep again.

See there’s always a story behind the mental health and mines supposed to be down to my physical health and nervous system damage on top of all of this trauma. I’m not ashamed of my actions at all. I only worry that I still am a burden to others and let them down or scared them silly.

I didn’t actually mean to write this post at all. It was going to be something more generalised about mental health. But it kind of all fell out onto the page. One of the hardest things I’ll ever write and this is so paired back.

I’m also not a victim, I don’t want you to see me as that, I am always trying to fix things. This time my energy and life force ran out. My buttons were pressed. My control taken away. I really did choose flight but now I know I am full of fight. Bring it on. I survived this and now I want to do it my way.