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Heart lurch

Sometimes I feel like an aged whore

Haggard

Men only want me for a shag

Stopgap

Nice bed.I’ll nail it later.

Like nothing happened merely past the bedhead look

 

My features won’t betray the truth I wear on my sleeve.

Discontent

Scorn

Repulsion

And other adversities

 

Is my sexuality all I have to offer?

Give it some clout

No need to rinse or buffer.

 

Mantras ‘you’re good enough

Don’t manifest a reality I wish to create

 

Rage & anger

Stupidity & tears

 

Self-hatred has become an overdue break up with that same old date.

Habitually

This is my mind speaking

My heart sighs

Then pleas

To one day be a freeborn

Wings spread airborne

Follow the winds

Nature’s heartbeat

Repaired again

Not broken nor torn

Glued back together

Reckless risk-taker let no arrow

Poison dipped

Enter my chambers

Rose-tinted glasses make dead flowers appear good.

The clarity of insanity

And at  the peak of my insanity

A moment to glance away from my apparent  reflection gunning down with its eyes of La Mort

I know that if I am able to glance away

at that reflection

of utter fear and self-loathing

See

my child in her stark purity dancing in front of the mirror.

If I found myself standing over her

pick up the comb, attend to her dutifully then

This motion is fuelled by a fierce love.

A fierce refusal to allow her child to be abandoned

by her own mother

The same mother who flees from her Self every day.

If this is not a demonstration of love

then it is a moment of clarity

I see the reality I have created.

Sweet bitter

I’m ready to tipple

Tears or bourbon

I’m no longer sure

Does it matter?

Then it is a moment of clarity.

These are my words.

Inspired by reading a passage of  ‘Memoirs of a daughter’, written by Simone Beauvoir and her relationship with her mother.

My greatest mistake

If I let you creep under my skin

would you forgive me for wishing myself to die from sin?

If I let you hold tight and folded into your arms

would you forgive me for needing someone to look to for my daily psalms?

If I had you ravage my body in kisses, linger fingertips over my flesh

Would you forgive me when I can’t let go unless under the influence of a narcotic

If I had to be the mother of the year

Would you put me down when I fall from grace

I’m only human

That’s my greatest mistake.

State of Dis Orient

Ladies dressed up to watch the jockeys race, not on but against their steed.

A befitting bet, the only time you will see her bow down, wearing a fascinator – laid on the mud- sacerdotal, on her knees – lunacy fanned out in a stylish turn of the century plead. 

Mixologists stir up a great spectacle – 50 per cent proof. This skulls hidden unconscious is about to  set  Ablaze

Four straws facing north, east , south, and west. It’s nearly 8 o clock and she is losing all sense of walking along cobbled streets – eyes misty -sultry in her glaze.

Somewhere, busy – night rolls her up in its fringed tapestry. 

Abandoned, lost. Cries of her child – don’t let them take her. 

Don’t let them know she is the true reason the station has become a living catastrophe.

How did she make it past the patrolled border?

An elevator –

dizzy,

disorientated,

confused – out of order.

A wack to the mouth causes bones to elementary fracture.

Spewing out pieces of ivory tooth and red rotten metallic pulp. She has become the victim of a  mere capture.

No eyes, no mouth, no voice.

How can an invisible entity  cause so much blood to make enough for a devil   Mc flurry?

She stumbles about – finally free – absorbing kleenex tissues to stifle the colour of Florida’s orange rain. 

Elbows, whistles, laughter  – a short dwarfed jockey, begs, catches her eye – nods at her in mocking disdain.

Maybe just this once she could wish for a  platform called nine and three quarters. 

She knows the wizard told her to click her shoes thrice and think of home. How is that nothing resembles a place she knows holds the faces of her loving daughters?

Chiming spinning, no change, no credit card, no ticket. 

Ringing, coming from her leathery bag – could it possibly hold  the conscious of a good-hearted  Jimney cricket?

Where are you?

Where are you?

Where are you?

Where are you?

Familiarity breeds a set of stifled sighs.

Eyes veer to her left,  a drunken, matted hair women scream to her brood don’t let these people put you down. You are who you are – Never be ashamed and don’t fucken frown.”

” Let’s have it.”

I’m home!

I’m home!

I’m home!

I’m home!

Nothing seems familiar. She doesn’t recognize a face, a place, not even the sound of the underground.

Train tracks look as slumber full a place to have a reality dysphoric fit.

All of you attempting to copy her brand of me -too-ism.

Not even the darkest version of voodoo blended with rum can get you to her level of cuckoo-ism 

Her child appears. Disappears in the arms of another blur.

A man who says he is her husband is here to take her home – in his arms – he attempts to gather her.

Not without my daughter. She knows what these child traffickers are doing. 

Police form a ring around her – all flashing lights- yellows and blues.

What happened Miss – Miss? 

She breaks down into a misfit of boo hoo-ing. 

Assaulted by her mind and the evil hands of time. 

Destroy the ones she loves – her gaping heart – her child won’t come near her,  not even if the thought crossed over to bribe her child with a dime.

Rage, fury, vengeance and betrayal – a feud with her family- the ones who have stuck by her to the very end.

Divorce on grounds of stationary inebriation. 

Rings are thrown to the ground. Frodo come get what is rightly yours and have your eternal salvation.

Clean sheets, a bottle warmer tinkers at her feet, a hug from the husband who she tried to chase away and defeat. 

A portrait of a framed married couple- Cracked and jagged on the side of this man. Fragmented glass distorts a smile, rendering it obsolete. 

So it is true she is the one encrypted with a  learned evil, the one who holds the reigns of the one who goes by the name  Deceipt?

She picks ups her lace parasol. It can only hide little and only reveal so much – she still has the fascinator and her original brand of receipt. 

ED flares up

So, I have been pretty quiet on how I have been dealing with my Anorexia lately. It has been hell. I went on a detox in July 2015 and put on weight! Yes! I don’t know how I managed it. 

I have been struggling to get rid of the weight although it could have been a combo of muscle too. I am a bit of an exercise bunny.  Anyway At Christmas I  “forgot” how to eat again. I’ve dropped nearly 8 kilos in less than four weeks. 

 

 

I don’t need this shit. My mental health and weight have been stable for nearly 5 years. I’m getting married in 5 months, I’m planning on having a brother/sister for my precious child at the end of the year and I’m succeeding in the volunteering/working world. 

 

I tried loads of different non-medication alternatives and other medication tweaks over the last few months. My C.P.N.  and psychiatrist finally put me back on Diazepam again at my request. I’m on a whack of meds already ( for my Bipolar too) but the lorazepam wasn’t working any more. I  started getting panic attacks around eating again and have survived mainly on water and sweets for a month.

I’ve had hardly any energy to have a proper good work out. I have lost a lot of muscle tone and I don’t want to lose the body I have worked so hard to achieve in four years. I don’t want to be skinny. I want to stay lean. Keep my glossy hair and glowing skin. The remainder of my teeth…

Let’s hope this med change works. Tonight, I’m about to have my first proper sit-down meal with my family in a month. I am terrified. I don’t want to put on too much weight. I’ve chucked all the sweets out and got some good quality veg and seafood. Fruit.  Normal food! 

I am going to do this and move forward. It’s okay to stumble. I have caught it in time. I want my glow back and my energy. I’ve so much work to do this year.  The eating disorder recovery group is happening. I’m still here. I say a big fuck you to Anorexia and I’m fighting back. No more hospitals. I am not a victim. 

I am back!  Not perfect. Always flawed. I am a fighter. 

 

 

Self medicate

When it comes to looking after my own mental health; the one thing I have found hard to control is self-medicating.

  • You know -a few drinks mixed with some hardcore benzodiazepine and possibly a smoke of weed -all night and into the morning: is probably not going to do me and my mind and body any good.

I used to self medicate for years. I’ve been mostly stable these past 5 years. Taken my meds as prescribed and trying more holistic ways of coping.

So mindfulness- staying in the moment is a good discipline to practice. CBT -distraction. Finding out what my interests are.

These days I work with mental health charities. I’m trying to make a full-time career from it. It’s amazing what experience and a better state of mental health have done for me.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not magically cured. On New Years Eve, I met up with a guy I knew would be up for a mad session of partying. Something in me needed to connect. I needed to plug into that buzz I used to get.

Lesson learned for me

Going back to old coping mechanisms to ease my mental health issues is mostly going to end up in tears.

It did.

With me walking home after ‘my friend’ kicked me out of his house saying I was psycho. I can’t remember a lot of the night but I do know that is one heavy accusation coming from someone with his back ground and record.

I don’t usually mind casual use of words like ‘psycho’ and ‘loony’ in certain contexts, although I am mindful when and who I use them with. What did hurt more than anything was him telling me I am a psycho.

These acts of rebellion as I like to call them are few and far between these days. When they do occur I learn the lesson quicker. Go on a downer and then build myself back up within a day or two. I exercise. I do a lot of positive self-talk and I cut ties with the negativity.

I’m pretty chilled and easy to talk to in real life. I am getting married in 6 months to an incredibly supportive man who gets my turbulent acts of rebellion. Of course, they can’t happen too often otherwise the disrespect in our relationship would kind of snip  in two.

It is hard not to self medicate and get on the right medication.  My illness requires tweaking here and there.

The main message I want anyone to take away from this post if any is, that I don’t feel ashamed for having an illness..

I am ashamed of how reckless and out of control I get when I take my mental health for advantage.

It’s 2016. A brand new page. Well, we are four pages into it 🙂

No more parties and highly overrated expectations to waste my money.  and act like a woman with no responsibilities.

As long as do what I can to keep myself on the upper end of the mental health scale,then I know I am doing the best I can.

I could have used other ways to deal with New Year’s Eve but I chose to get ‘crazy’ and relinquish myself and power to my illness.

Mental health issues are hard to gain control of. Sometimes I just live as best as I can. Keep things simple. Keep my life simple. Be a Mum and a sort of responsible person. I have learnt quite a few tools to cope over the past 5 years.

I am more than happy to pass on some tools and ways to cope other than medication. I use a combination. This is my first post so I will go easy.

Get rid of the negative shit in your life. It is so empowering! Once that negative bubble has been popped and you take the first step to the other dark side- lots of cookies, hot chocolate, movies. Simple pleasures. If you take that small step you will start to attract positive people and have positive experiences in your life.

Daisy

 

 

 

 

 

Perceptions of addictions and dependency

What image comes to mind when you think of an addict?

This?

Did anyone picture an addict as someone like this

Some people think it is all right for a talented person to have an addiction..

Did you picture this?  

What do you think when you see these images?

Are these potential kind of addicts  more acceptable than other addictions?  Why?

What about these images. Did anyone picture this?

Do you think the religious fanatic has no addiction?  Could he/she feel ostracised and alone in a country that she/he was born in,  but  her skin colour happens to be similar to a bomb suicide terrorists. How does that person deal with being made an outcast because they share the same race/ colour as a ‘typical’ fanatical terrorist?

Did you see the child with special needs as an addict/dependant  on  medication as not being his fault. That the medication helps him to suffer less? The person with special needs- who’s mental health will never improve. Regardless of what medication he is dependant  and becomes tolerant to. He/she  uses up  a lot of the public national health funds ,to continue to live a life, with no hope of getting better mentally.

 

I’ve seen lots of couples  smiling and laughing, having a laugh and having a few social drinks. Is this more  acceptable? Do they look in control? Maybe they met over the internet and decided they needed a drink to calm their nerves? Change the wiring in their brain to feel able to communicate.

What about the baby born addicted? True, it is not his fault but what do you see when you think of an addict?

No, he/she never asked too be born.  That baby does have a mother and just because that mother is addicted to a substance; that  does not mean that that child is loved any less as opposed to the mother who stops smoking and does everything by the ‘perfect mother pregnancy ‘book   What if that mother does the ‘Down syndrome test’ and is confronted with  a positive?

What if she decides to terminate that life because she believes that a child deserves to be mentally well to succeed in life?  Could that be the one thing that tips her over into  poor mental health? She may go to her doctor to prescribe  her sleeping pills to cope.

Why are some addictions seen to be better or acceptable to society than others?

Some are legal?

Some are not their fault?

Some don’t commit crime?

Some are not morally right, others are?

The real issue is that addiction has many faces and all addictions affect mental health.

What do you think mental health is?

mental healthLine breaks: men¦tal health

Definition of mental health in English:

noun

[MASS NOUN]

A person’s condition with regard to their psychological and emotional well-being:all this pressure seems to be affecting his mental health[AS MODIFIER]: mental health issues
 

We all have a brain. We all have mental health. Mental health is on a continuum scale. There is no person who sits in the middle of  the continuum scale of mental health forever. People are constantly sliding  along it from good to bad mental health. Some people have more extreme mental health issues and  then sometimes those same  people have good  or at the very least better mental health.

If you lost your house how do you think you mental health would be affected?

If you got married how does this affect your mental health?

You get a promotion at work? where on the scale of mental health do you see yourself?

A person close to you dies? your son, your dad, perhaps? Where do you see yourself on the mental health continuum scale?

You can’t have children ?

You are bullied?

You win a beauty contest?

Not everyone has the same access to healthy coping mechanisms that another person may have. So, if you agree with that statement.  Then you can reason: how one person deals with a situation or experience, another person will experience it in a different way -a lot of that depends on what tools they have to cope.

Addicts who use drugs may be deemed as the worst of addictions/dependency because it is illegal and immoral –  they might steal for their habit or use sex and money transaction  as their currency

These are symptoms of a mental health disease.

What about the sex addict who has multiple affairs?

The shopping addict who gets into loads of debt?  Is he/she contributing to a healthy society?

The Facebook addict whose life revolves around showing the world how amazing their life is?  Who become obsessed and measure his worth on profile likes or statuses.

It is easy to assume and make judgements.  The point is addiction comes in many forms and all of them are related to mental health issues.

No one can possibly know what experience in life will push them down the scale of poor mental health, or how far down that scale they will go.

It is our duty as a society to come together and find answers. How much has judging  and assumptions helped  to make society a better place? It is not some one else’s problem. If you have an opinion on it. Then you have a duty to comment or brainstorm on  ways a society can come together, and deal with poor mental health positively.  Don’t judge or discriminate  by only one image to go by. We are complex human beings and we deal with situations in a unique and complex way. There are many layers to a person and their reality.

The American Academy of Pain Medicine, American Pain Society, and American Society of Addiction Medicine, recognizes these definitions below as the current accepted definitions.

 

I. Addiction:
Addiction is a primary, chronic, neurobiologic disease, with genetic, psychosocial, and environmental factors influencing its development and manifestations. It is characterized by behaviors that include one or more of the following: impaired control over drug use, compulsive use, continued use despite harm, and craving.

 

II. Physical Dependence:
Physical dependence is a state of adaptation that is manifested by a drug class specific withdrawal syndrome that can be produced by abrupt cessation, rapid dose reduction, decreasing blood level of the drug, and/or administration of an antagonist.

 

III. Tolerance:
Tolerance is a state of adaptation in which exposure to a drug induces changes that result in a diminution of one or more of the drug’s effects over time.

 

Summary:
Addiction is uncontrollable compulsive behavior caused by alterations of parts of the brain from repeated exposure to high euphoric response

https://www.naabt.org/faq_answers.cfm?ID=15

Alcohol’s effect on your brain

I think this is such a powerful post. Alcohol is just as damaging as any other legal or illegal drugs you can buy. It is quite scary what happens to the after one drink.

800 Recovery Hub Blog

I have memory lapses from my first few weeks of being sober. So, it’s not hard to imagine that drinking took a toll on my brain. I haven’t had a drink in 20 years … I like to think that I stopped before I did too much damage. But, I can’t be sure.

Yes, I know about the reported health benefits of certain types of alcohol. I am not against drinking. I am just against alcoholics like me drinking.  Alcohol equals fun and celebration for most, but for me it acted like a poison. Large quantities of booze can affect the mind. If you are not an alcoholic, some basic information will help you decide how much is appropriate for you. If you do have a drinking problem, then you mostly likely know that you can’t have any alcohol (at least without suffering consequences).

Alcoholism - how it works The “how stuff works” website has a good article with additional information

This information was…

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