Mental Health

Walk in my shoes, then judge me

Walk in my shoes, then judge me

By jfarrell

 

3 months short of my 50th birthday;

My sister, we telephone on birthdays, for 10 minutes;

My last friend, I invited him to my 50th birthday party….

My first ever birthday party; he says…

don’t be so negative at your birthday party…

Guess that party’s cancelled.

 

I have no friends or family;

I work, I sleep, I work more;

I’m not horrible person

I’m not the lowest common denominator,

Though I thought I was , for a long time

 

You see me dancing on the tube;

Lost in me own personal concert;

Madman, weirdo, freak;

If I’m about to be blown up by a bomb,

I’m gonna die dancing

 

What possible right could you have to judge me?

Walk in my shoes for a week…..

None of you could….

That incessant need to talk, gosssip,

Fill the silence with meaningless platitudes

 

Alone!

Silent!

Only myself, the radio and the cats to shout at.

None of you would last one single week.

But, at 49, I’m still here.

Sadder than all of you? Or stronger? Madder?

And what does it or anything matter?

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

yep, sorry, recovering drunk spewing up everywhere, very sorry for offence caused

Still Standing

Still Standing

By jfarrell

 

For me,

It’s childhood rape and violent child abuse;

For some,

It’s drugs, alcohol, food, stealing;

For some,

It’s cancer, organ failure…

Horrendous stuff I can’t,

And probably, don’t want to imagine.

 

But

WE ARE STILL STANDING, STILL HERE!

Today sucked less than yesterday,

But,

You know what?

It was an improvement;

However unnoticeable, however slight it was.

We are still standing! You, me, all of us.

 

And,

It may be all you have right now!

I know 20 years I tried to kill myself;

And I’m still standing;

Lots of you are like me, despite how alone I feel;

We are all STILL standing, after all this time;

Survive? Stop standing - walk!

One step in any direction, and keep walking.

 

Fuck surviving!

I deserve;

I’ve worked and sacrificed for a life!

Not to survive.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i deserve a life! wife, kids, and donuts! i'm sick of being a survivor, i demand more :-)

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Labels

Labels

By jfarrell

 

I lost mine for a long time,

But labels define us; me, certainly;

Dad, mum, lawyer, thief;

What we do, what we call ourselves, define us.

 

I used to be a nursery officer,

I worked with young children,

For those unfamiliar with the term,

Then I was ill, and had no label for a long time.

 

For 17 years I was nothing, maybe still am;

Waste of space drunk became my label;

Mentally ill, depressed, this abbreviation and that abbreviation;

None of them defined me, just made me feel useless.

 

Now, I’m like a duracell bunny;

Some days I’m a barman; some, a waiter;

And I’m stretching labels in between;

I have a definition, a purpose, after so long.

 

Important labels I don’t have;

Father, husband, friend;

But, I now have a label that gives me definition;

Note to self: THIS IS NOT THE DESTINATION!

IT’S ONLY THE BEGINNING OF THE JOURNEY

 

Thanks all for listening :-)

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

break on through to the other side, break on through, break on through - the doors i think, or i maybe thinking of  wrong song, hehe

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The effects of child abuse on you

The effects of child abuse on you

By jfarrell

 

I speak of me and my experiences and abuse;

I have no right, or claim, to speak on behalf of others;

Hopefully, this echoes what they may say

And explains why you must listen and stop child abuse.

 

The effect on me;

I cut myself off from my family, my sister;

I didn’t want to pass the abuse on, and I had started;

No friends, alone all my life.

Depression and several suicide attempts.

 

The effect on you, society, tax payers;

My being in care cost upwards of about £500 a week, back then

Double that, my sister’s in care with me;

The years spent in therapy,

In mental hospitals, in A&E after suicide attempts.

And that’s not mentioning the 20 years spent on the sick;

Too ill to work.

 

And that’s just me.

Thousands, tens of thousands of pounds of your money;

Spent on helping me overcome my pain and become a ‘survivor’;

Trust me, in my shoes, this ain’t surviving…

 

And I’m a ‘safe’ victim;

I can only internalise what I feel and hurt myself;

I can’t hit others, get high on crack and turn to crime;

Get drunk and beat my wife and kids like dad did;

I’ve never taken the risk of having a wife and family.

Having no-one, I can hurt no-one.

 

What we go through does affect you. Now and in the future.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

our parents don't mean to **** us up, but they do - i don't rememeber the poet's name, Phillip Larkin?, but, words, so true

The Inner me

The Inner me

By jfarrell

 

Like Dorian Grey, my face looks normal; nothing remarkable;

My arms and torso, always hidden, would reveal a little;

But I always stay covered, I need to hide those marks of my life;

Like Dorian Gray, the inner, hidden-in-the-attic, portrait;

There my life is captured, and stored, in glorious technicolour.

 

The night I cut my wrists; that first overdose of sleeping pills;

My rape when I was 5; another cut, another pill;

My mum’s infidelity; another cut another pill;

Every violence by my father, everytime I was bullied at school;

Another cut, another pill.

 

On the outside, I am unremarkable, instantly forgettable;

But, my hidden portrait;

One look will haunt you, forever;

It’s very horror would scar you, taint you, forever.

I just wish I had the guts to live as selfishly as Dorian Gray. Sometimes.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'd very much like to be a different shade of grey please

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Peeling the onion

Peeling the onion

By jfarrell

 

My story, my history

Will come out, layer by layer

Within my poetry

And much of it you won’t like;

“let’s leave those horrors for scary stories”

Like peeling an onion, the deeper you go

The more intense it is

 

When I started writing poetry recently

I upset my sister with it;

It’s stuff she’s got over and buried in the past;

And she is the only one of my relatives I give a stuff about;

But she doesn’t believe that

She believes I stay away out of hate and spite;

I stay away coz I seem to hurt everything I touch

I promised her I wouldn’t write personal stuff

 

Sorry, but I’ve got to break that promise

I write for me, I have to write my story

And I have to write it my way

You can choose to not read

But you cannot tell me not to write;

You found your peace;

I’m still searching for mine.

I need to peel this onion.

 

A dream last night

A dream last night

By jfarrell

 

 

 

I dreamt, last night, that my mum had died;

I wonder if it’s prophetic,

The way some dreams are;

And I should be ashamed I feel no sadness, no loss.

 

I got taken into care when I was 11;

(“ and you probably deserved it; only thugs, feral children

And criminals end up in care; you probably deserved it”);

Is the unspoken accusation I hear, all my life.

 

My ‘loving, responsible’ mother

Poured a bottle of vodka down my 8 year old sister’s throat;

Then dumped her, unconscious, on the outside stairs,

When she collapsed.

 

I bet, when my nan and uncle were told about us going into care

There was no mention of alcohol;

I was always the scapegoat;

I was always to blame, every bad was my fault.

 

Hearing that my dad had died, did not release me from the pain;

I doubt my mum’s death will either;

And, 25 years from now I will still be cursing her;

As I do my father, 25 years dead now.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i've had many dreams, i'd describe as prophetic, ie in a sense they came true  - but i've never dreamed about my mother dying, though i've fantasized about it, often - does that make me an evil and wicked person, or just the same as everyone else alive?

national poetry day

 

 National Poetry Day

By jfarrell

 

 

 

KEEP RUNNING!

The stinking tendrils of ancient decayed flesh envelope you,

Engulf you in a nicotined-coloured fog;

Your devil has arrived, demanding payment.

              - horror

 

The moment I saw her face;

It was like a thousand rainbows shone;

All the stars of the heavens bursting into life again

My heart was hers. I would die for her.

                    -romance

 

There was a miserable sod, wrought from Bermondsey;

Dark clouds, thunder; all his life followed he;

But, when to ‘Wales’ he went,

A promised holiday was the event;

A ‘pain in the bum’ was all he received.

                -limerick

 

My madness has made me a god,

Or, maybe, I’m just a conceited sod.

                   - couplet

 

In the shadows, I watch and I learn;

The deep longing within me burns;

To love one, such as you;

And I know my love would be true.

                -rhyming

 

Why poems?

I offer five reasons, five themes, five experiences;

Today is National Poetry Day.

Thank you for coming. Please enjoy your stay :-)

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

happy national poetry day :)

I need to believe

I need to believe

By jfarrell

 

In anything…

Some mystical power called god; mohammed; jaweh; the one;

The newest trendiest diet “cures all ills”;

Luck; synchronicity; love; faith; “trust in the Force, Luke Skywalker”;

Anything.

 

Green Day sang “in the land of make believe, I don’t believe in me”

But, it’s such a truth;

I don’t believe in me

And, I am the only one here.

 

And being the only one here…

I’m the only one to blame;

But I don’t believe in me.. this is why I am such a nothing

My thinking concludes that I don’t exist, and I can’t argue.

 

Though I try, I need to…

But I don’t believe in anything.

But…

Something tells me right from wrong

 

I can be very arrogant and conceited…

Something beyond that tells me, compels me, right from wrong;

When hurt, I can wish the cruellest, most painful revenge;

But something beyond that keeps it all a fantasy

 

And, yes, the voices from the bottom of my beer glass are very tempting;

But I know they are only sirens - I to die in the beauty of their songs.

With nothing…

Life is a raging river, I give up and let it take me where it will

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

river river, carry me home, to the place that i came from - peter gabriel

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