Write to Recover is an approved therapy called Bibliotherapy. It is used on people with Eating Disorders, PTSD, Depression and other illnesses. They are prescribed relevant material such as certain poems, novels and encouraged to write to find their inner being. Poetry as a form of healing dates back to Egyptian times in the 4th Millennium BC. Shamans used to write words on bits of papyrus and get their patients to swallow the words on them for the most speedy effective result.
In Roman times -A greek Born physician called Soranus of Ephesus was employed to come to live in Rome (in the 1st century AD) – to treat people with mania and melancholy with words.
The word Mania originates from the Grecians. Melancholia is can be interpreted as meaning ‘black’, bile or gall. Whilst Mania is was broken down into two words Ania- is interpreted as severe mental anguish and the word Manos is attributed as meaning a relaxed state or an extreme preoccupation of the mind and soul. Soranus was the first person on historic record to suggest that mental illness of melancholia and Mania were separate independant entities – it makes sense to understand why in later years Bipolar was referred to as ‘Manic Depression. It is documented Soranus, treated people with Mania by prescribing Tragedies to read and conversely prescribed those displaying a melancholic temperament with Comic works.
During the American civil war- American poet, Walt Whitman, used poetry recitations to treat the wounded before Morphine became the popular choice for pain relief. The humanitarian poet ( author of ‘Leaves of Grass’) also wrote a poem about his experience as a nurse on the battlefields of the American Civil War,
Thus in silence, in dream’s projections,
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals;
The hurt and the wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
I sit by the restless all the dark night — some are so young;
Some suffer so much — I recall the experience sweet and sad;
(Many a soldier’s loving arms about this neck have cross’d and rested,
Many a soldier’s kiss dwells on these bearded lips.)
Walt Whitman, “The Dresser” (1867, later titled “The Wound-Dresser”)
In modern times Poetry therapy is used to help people express themselves through self-reflection. So,the saying, ‘Words Matter’ – indeed do matter and have a powerful effect on our emotions and cognitive faculties.
Poets such as Alan Watts, Walt Whitman, William Wordsmith and Antonin Artaud works are prescribed to patients as an alternative form of therapy.
An article was written by, Igor Goldkind, called ‘Towards an Uncommon Sense: the Practice of Poetry Therapy goes into greater detail of the breakdown of the three types of the most common approaches used to help people with Mental Health issues.
Towards an Uncommon Sense: the Practice of Poetry Therapy, Igor Goldkind
I identify as a humanitarian, I’m currently doing my TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) training. I think I have found my new calling. Perhaps my next career move will be to do training to become a poetry therapist.
So, I will carry on with my ‘Write to Recover’ posts because I benefit from using this creative outlet to consolidate my Emotions and feel energised and purged from the unravelled thoughts I have in one day. My thoughts have a way of discombobulating my emotions and I become ruled by my emotions and thoughts that are not necessarily based on evidence and truth. I have made an ambitious start at using self-therapy DBT (Dialectical Behaviour Therapy)to practice emotions distress tolerance, Wise mind and many other techniques to have more moments of Emotional Wellbeing than non.
I’ve downloaded many helpful apps to help me stay focused -The DBT therapy app, Happily, The recovery app because I do live in my head a lot. Perhaps too much and too often. and in the past when I have been unwell with my Bipolar, Chronic Anorexia and Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder.
Please, can the word labellers of the world reclassify the title of this illness because I hate the Stigma and connotations conjured by the term EUPD?
A post for another day…
I’ve also begun to throw myself into reading and educating myself across the entire spectrum of the Humanity & Arts subjects- Music, I have a Music blog, Photography, Art and reading up about different philosophers -all the subjects I have a great passion for and I never thought I was intelligent enough to grasp.
Reading back on these words,I find this tragic to put myself down to the point I feel that I am not like “normal” people who can enjoy these subjects and write about them (with a degree of credibility).
Momentarily I shall blow my own trumpet to state that I have a post-graduate certificate on the humanities I worked my booty off and received high merit. I received high merit towards my first year studying my MA degree in Advanced Creative Writing focusing on stage scripts! Writing about themes I want to shine a lot on – Homelessness, eradicating the stigma attached to mental illness.
Morality plays covering historical themes- the Russian revolution being a prime example.
I am compelled to volunteer my time in my community on the therapeutic benefits of creative self-expression and the connection with Mental wellbeing being. I have done this in the past. I’ve stood in front of Social workers, schools, NHS workers doing Anti -Stigma Workshops. Co-producing them. I don’t want chuffing letters after my name. I don’t want fame. I loathe it. I’ve been asked many times what it feels like to have so much insight into my mental health issues and “suffer” from them. Sometimes, I scream in frustration, I choose Ignorance!
Perhaps this is the reason why I’ve sought out “bliss” by self-medicating or trying to take my life because I have two live in my head.
I will wrap this post up by affirming my saying
Write to Recover or die to live the day of another
The calm before the storm.
I break my fast musing over my odds of being crazier than the norm.
— Brain sensory overload — the cranium structure is deceiving in its form.
The third eye lazily flickers in a state of REM.
an attempt to channel my inner chakra.
I’ve resorted to stick-on Googly eyes to play the part of spiritualist guru, sipping on high tea, to awaken my inner rapture.
Dear Goddess Kali, can you save me from the howling winds?
The mooing cows spinning around me
moaning gutturally for their new fateful flight as fledgelings?
My Glasshouse shatters into a myriad of snow flaked, razor-sharp, jagged pieces.
unable to repair the damage.
Take a searing hot iron to my face to smooth out the grimace in my features.
Sacerdotal screams interrupt the night — another man stolen from his lullaby.
brazen in their efforts to destroy,
my favourite playlist titled: sweet dreams.
behind the thousands of words, I’ve ploughed through with oars
Where will I be?
Will I have sailed?
Will I capsize?
Will I have the ability to walk?
Will I be a cripple, dragging myself by the elbows under a storm pelted bleached , grainy beach?
The Temptations won’t knock
They will saunter in.
Oh, it’s to be expected.
I refuse to fall to my knees
swearing my allegiance to make another man’s family richer
Than see mine indicted.
I’d sooner sit on a floor, covered in colours of paint and corners lit with the smiles of my loves.
I’d sooner watch paint dry or read a screenplay loosely based on what I know about when life comes to rouse me with rough pushes or shoves.
Elements balance my kinetic,
complex feelings of despair.
Change comes with a promise.
Fear comes with very little solace.
Motion to a new position –
don’t cower from success
It might even suit your current attire and inner prowess.
My time to deliver.
Get my due.
For me and my few.
My kind words are still here and my support?
I have some to spare.
I won’t waste it on those who don’t reciprocate
The err is but their own.
Chosen to remain frozen-staring down a hall of, pale, mirrored self-reflection.
unable to see
they are not the only ones
in need of encouragement or care.
I swill down the remnants of this blessed day with a bitter tea.
I clamour to suppress my applause.
I catch out the dawn rising with a yawn unashamed ,gloriously
I’m no longer afraid to be the lunatic.
I’ve seen the powers of nature.
Forces of rage.
still, waters run deep.
This insanity is something I hold dear to me-
The great mother gave it to me-
I will set with the sun
It’s my duty to consummate all that is sacred.
Revised stream of consciousness — borderline poetry.
Black sheared sheep – interrupts my sleep flow.
Jumping forwards then backward.
He’s part of the clandestine cult thought- process flow.
All beginnings eventually have to come to an ending.
Concerning future alliances- the fork in the path mutates an extra prong.
Allow for the change in shape of an another alternative route.
Cheat decides to look up in dictionary.com what it means to say moot.
Meaning already forgot.
Decision debased on ill-behaved behavior electrifying a footwork track -based on a biracial intercourse toot.
Turn moot into witch doctor Muti, a cure for this malaise oddity may break contact with the shepherd’s compulsive ewe.
Silenced into the next move in the game of life.
What is the most Infallible- can do?
Make a fresh start- sell out one pearlised vocation. Many breed the high ground in a scorching sorting hat.
Priorities muddled in an attempt to make a life more longstanding than a welcome mat.
Mathematicians turn up in a state of multiple divided equations.
New lease of life -E=mc^ 2 – it’s all relative – beautification renders an approving look – misread face leads to unresolved complications.
Let sleeping dogs lie.
3 am -Hare wakes up to see tortoise break past the time barrier, marathon race. March mad, too young to let his ego sit back -ears push forward in sly.
Morals without a compass, external hard drive.
time dials erratic – so distant.
Testify to honor all vocations – duty bound to follow the one leading to the most effective change – energy is insistent.
What matters is not to what degree – all frying pans are a sizzle. Take a calculated risk on Heart.
wrenched backward -trust it will not deceive.
Patriotic to the cause of writing until last breath ceases – suspended in mid-air -acrobatic chaos,
spectator led into disbelief.
Matter not those who don’t walk the same path.
Respect this life entrant is making a decision on behalf of the majority, swathed- ready to abort the plan.
Whim-sake not the confidence of this indecisive.
Aim to do better -empath.
Besmirch the elders – radicalize the institutional bonds that bind.
The weight of titanium – Poseidon never lets a nymph stray too far from the seismic mind.
An explosive ending to start off the new year.
Just over 365 days to go.
change this automatic for a manual stick gear.
words tantalize her very mind.
every adjective ,every noun resounds in the primal part of her -hidden and bound.
Let loose to its device it would seduce a nation of puritans .
Her sin is her lifestyle.
She heard this from the one who set her mind free with tempting condiments.
Honey dripping, swarming bees pollinating with a delicate fleur.
opening one up to her fullest bloom – Every species took one look at her and at the same time uttered the name: Allure.
Saucy enough to steam rouge to her usually pale cheeks.
Thoughts of rollicking in clouds, scented of meadow dew satin sheets.
Thorns might sting when they draw blood from the skin,
only you will know if it is worth pursuing the unrequited ache from the arousing pain consuming you from within.
Tempting, stealthlike- scented whispers , send flowered vines, to contain too much movement, from your limbs .
skin on skin contact is pure.
where is the shame of needing to remember what it is to live -fill the arid ,parched crevices, in need of moist hymns?
Trust, this fleur won’t hurt you, not even when you tempt her with mental visions that send her sweet nectar into a frenzied hive -alerting drones, intoxicated .
Merely, one queen combing her hair – let down your guard -let go of the bumbling confusion.
She can protect you,stop you from ignoring the drumming of what your heart truly yearns,
Connected by an incongruent rhythm , a dance you both control by merely partaking in making up the infusion.
Lilac and lavender -fields of frivolous laughter and secret ,coy smiles.
Lay down in fields born out of mother nature – her approval aligns your contoured bodies by joining in with earth tremors – exasperating your gratified sighs.
Free spirited, close to the ocean. She wants to be entangled – one body -a symbiotic union of something quite close to adoration.
Waves of emotions to deep sea dive in. La Tresor de la Mer – reeds, fish, seabeds ,caves to navigate together – dive in the deep end to begin with this exploration .
How to know if two souls are meant to keep the other lit?
A meeting of minds – a meeting of many kinds before one can promise the other that somehow they can see how it will come together and fit.
Hold your breath and enjoy the ride. Don’t struggle against the motion, the tide , leave la Mer to her dramatic side.
When you stop fighting and accept that water was 9 months of your first gilded breath.
Will we know if,
we are meant to glide and soar and tumble in the same sky -with nothing to hide -publicly side by side.
The sun may have called it a day 😀 but as promised, I have done it! Caught up with all you ,bloody brilliant bloggers who have touched soil with the Willows.
Finally, I have had the attention span and energy to go through all of your lovely blogs. You are all so bloody unique. I LOVE IT!
This usually takes me a full day and night to do but it is totally worth it. You all are.
I am blown away by the diversity of the people and content I connect with on WordPress. I am buzzing from checking out your Blogs. I have a massive smile on my face. The sun is still shining for me and my heart is brimming over with sunny Delight.
WOW! I’m speechless. Ha ha!
Thank you for taking a chance on this flower. Me!
I know I have an epic award to receive but I have really wanted to meet everyone who has come into the Willows over the past two weeks.
SHOUT TIME – whoop! whoop!
I do sincerely check out all your blogs and not only do I give you a shout out to say THANK YOU! but I pick what I call -MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK to lead other Bloggers to check out your Blogs.
Please check out these Blogs.
Be comfortable to feel how you want to feel!
Breathe in the Good shit! OXYGEN!
Thank you for bringing so much colour to my Blog!
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK: humor.
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK: Be Mine
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK: First blog post
Brickley Jules Writes Writing chick lite to erotic romance with some fantasy thrown in.Brickley Jules Writes Writing chick lite to erotic romance with some fantasy thrown in.
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faithfoodfear Somewhere in between graduating college in Biology and attempting to have a life. This is my story of my running, working, relationships, school, friends and support. My ups, downs, complete failures, and undenying truths along the way. Oh, did I mention I am recovering from an eating disorder in the midst of it all? Welcome to life in recovery…. it gets a little bumpy.
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK: Self-Empathy & Compassion
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : Desire
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : The Missed Spot
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : My Jewelry Featured On…
simple Ula I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : Attention to each other
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : SILENCE
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : WHY BLOOKUP?
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Jude Rants- the wild and tastefully philosophical musings of a carb-fuelled millennial on a quest to manifest herself as the greatest rapper of all time
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : How A Sleepy Serbian Mountain Town Woke Me Up – Part 1
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : POSITIVE VIBES
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : Light in obscurity
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : My Spanglish Kids & The Sh*t They Say
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : INCOMPATİBLE
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WILDSOUND WRITING AND FILM FESTIVAL REVIEW Feature Screenplay, TV Screenplay, Short Screenplay, Novel, Stage Play, Short Story, Poem, Film, Festival and Contest Reviews
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : About
BLACKGIRLDOWN.COM- A FABULOUS BLACK WOMAN LIVING UNDER THE CLOUD OF DEPRESSION AND THE STIGMA THAT COMES ALONG WITH IT
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MEGAEGGZ-WELCOME This is megaeggz, my name is Josh. This might be unsuitable for you but you know.. PROCEED
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK: THE THIRD EYE OF THE NTH EYED FISH
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : Bitter or Better
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MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : About Us
MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE. WHO? PRINCIPLES OF LITERARY CRITICISM (1932)
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MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK : Life is Fulfillment at 7 levels
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Seasons of Seroquil- To anyone who has a mental illness or a loved one suffering with mental illness:
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MY STAR SCENTED POST PICK: ABOUT
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MY STAR SCENTED POST: Carry me home
HAVE A GRAND WEEK.
I HOPE TO GET MORE CREATIVE AGAIN IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS. DYING TO JUST WRITE.
MY FIRST WRITING DEADLINE AT UNI FOR WRITING (CREATIVELY) 😀 IS THE 24/11 SO WISH ME LUCK!
DAISY ❤ ❤
Not all men can handle a strong woman.
A lot of them tend to make us feel like we are weak,wrong , crazy even with our impulse feelings to rule and to be dominated.
They would happily send us to a place to be Abominated.
Not all men can dominate a strong woman
It takes a real man – with a front and backbone – one that he uses .
One that he knows how to use and simply won’t take her refusals.
A firm hand – pressed against her delicate neck bone – wind pipe-disarmed . A Struggle to breathe.
Shock – Fight or flee.
Stay and put up with it – two stubborn souls connect – who is going to win?
She could fight you, she will put up a good bluff .
Poker face. Stoke his fury – Flush her out – until she is red in the face .
Hair fanned out in a perfect pose,astrologically aligned with her sin.
She knows when to stop him. She pushes back his arm.
Will he get the message or will he continue with the power trip and go one and on ?
The moment of truth is in his bare hands.
Her life, her breathe is his – she is at his wildest demands.
He won’t take no for answer – she won’t refuse his frustration.
She would rather end up black and blue
Thumbed, printed ,read all over- front to back.
than pass on her pain,
Her 6 red eyed ,three-headed Cerebus demon.
Dizzy disparate desperation.
She won’t see that reflection – not one drop will trickle from his eye the mirror that she sees is, in fact, her depiction.
She is his keeper – She owes him his salvation.
Till death do us part.
Charon take your ferry – set back sail on the river Styx . She casts the ferryman back to eternal damnation.
Lust , love , it’s all a part of the combined heady scent and the sweat .
gender – Sexual Agenda – together, forever in each others debt.
A pounding heart. She suddenly gasps.
does she fight for one last caress?
Love is complicated. So is she.
He is her man.
Her king and she will let him be.
Euphoria – deuphoria – her hands tremble – she is shaking.
Pins and needles – no voodoo.
True Magic, is two people madly in love.
two hearts – hers stopped beating so he took out his own – ripped it from his chest – tore it in half and gave her one part.
She doesn’t need a rib.
She needs a beat – a rhythm.
A Civil rights movement protest.
bloody driven from her comfort- safety zone.
This time, when she makes a noise it won’t be a solemn, repressed moan.
Jolted into believing.
Stained sheets. She is done with teasing.
She is the Queen of his heart.
Same time tomorrow – so they can resume their riske business meeting.
* Inspired by watching Once upon a time*
” Passion is one great force that unleashes creativity, because if you’re passionate about something, then you’re more willing to take risks” . Yo-Yo Ma
Okay so why have I picked out this quote? I don’t know Yo-Yo Ma unfortunately 😀 – but What an epic name.
I see a lot of bloggers upping their game and thinking of ways to get people to connect with them and other bloggers. I haven’t really felt any creativity to do anything like
6 word story challenges
I woke up this morning and
Sparks of creativity burst from my mind like a leaky fire hydrant.
So here is to challenging myself and others. I love being creative.
#FollowGreatFootsteps is my first challenge project. Come on, help a flower out. just click on the link and if you are pushed for time just copy and paste a quote in the comment section. I feel like a pimp. All this self promotion stuff.
I’m reducing my blog to a whore but at least it is a creative one
‘Sow an act, and you reap a habit.Sow a habit, and you reap a character.Sow a character and you reap destiny’ – CHARLES READE (1814-84)
Why have I picked this quote for today?
We can’t go on to achieve any goals without action. I have made it a habit to say YES to anything connected to reaching my goals. That is to work with mental health charities.
It’s not always easy. Sometimes the passion goes into a slumber. Each time we awaken it and push ourselves, we add another layer to our character.
Building character is what keeps us strong and reliant.
Today, is a new start. I’m shaking my passion awake (with a cup of coffee) and this is what will keep me on my chosen path.
This is how we achieve our destiny.
So here is too the first day of 6 intense hours of ‘facilitating groups’ training with a pre stop to the dentist this morning. Wish me luck!
What are you going to do to stir your passion from it’s slumber today?
On life. One chance. Make it epic!