Tag: mental-health

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Unable to see the light

With blind eyes closed, relying on weaker senses,
Stumbling forever onwards, destination unclear,
There’s no light in a reality fueled by fear,
More machine than man now, that’s humanity today,
Unlovable, unmemorable, unloyal creatures,
Over opinionated, self-indulged and dim featured,
Artificial is his intelligence now,
The dissident speaks without a mandible,
As simulation paints a future brightly tangible,
Changes have been subtle and constant,
Corporations are the necks that turn the head,
Governments of a people, corrupt and morally dead,
The dissidents no longer speak their mind,
And the world seems unwilling to see the light,
As constant technological dopamine numbs any fight.

The Dissident (2025)
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When the Beast Awakens

Covert as a crow at midnight,
My anxiety builds within,
An unwelcome guest with no invite,
A creeping feeling now settled in,

It only takes a carefree thought,
Cast in the wrong direction,
To awaken the monster that I have wrought,
From my mind I have no protection,

Its first blow fells me with a body shot,
And then it then likes to take its time,
Then it twists my stomach into a knot,
And that’s when it’s showtime,

My mind performs its pantomime,
Where I cry, and shake, and can’t think straight,
My thoughts explode working overtime,
Making narratives to feed my frantic state,

I take the drug to calm the thoughts,
That tell me that I’m going to die,
At the hands of this enemy that I have fought,
Since I was just a child,

Eventually the wave breaks upon the beach,
Where I’m washed up broken and tired,
Afraid to close my eyes at night and sleep,
Fearing the monster I have inside.

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The Return

The other me has returned so soon,
He visits throughout the year,
In my head he hums a familiar tune,
That’s how I know that he is near,

I feel more distant than my usual self,
As though he casts me out to sea,
Or I’m placed upon a dusty shelf,
While he masquerades as me,

The real me waits until he leaves again,
But who knows how long he’ll be,
He’s rolling storm clouds, and pouring rain,
Don’t engage with the other me,

There’s no acknowledgement while he’s active,
I’m just an unwilling bystander,
Our thoughts are not co-active,
When he’s here, he is commander,

Suddenly he has gone without a warning,
Control returned, his task complete,
I’m left colder than a winters morning,
All alone in the driver’s seat.

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Time to Fall

As I have aged, it feels like I am falling,
I’m slower, less enthusiastic, unwilling to connect,
Everything hurts, the body joints and the mind aches,
The younger me was more combative, stronger, fireier,
As if I followed an invisible upward trajectory,
But now, I can feel myself falling uncontrollably,
Piece by piece, day by day, I’m disappearing,
I feel I’m at the point where I’m in my own way,
And constantly in the way of others, my fire isn’t as bright,
It doesn’t burn with the same intensity as it once did,
I’m falling now, perhaps back to earth,
Maybe, after a life with my head in the clouds,
I’m finally coming down to rest, to sleep,
To truly sleep for the first time,
Dream free.

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Unable

I can’t communicate well right now,
I feel closed off, irritable, unsocial,
July, the death month, has taken a toll,
The me I was a short while ago seems different,
I can’t explain the change,
I feel numb to the world,
Functioning is difficult, but I’m holding on,
Seeking comfort where I can,
My memory seems to be failing me,
I can’t remember everything,
I feel like my usual workday is suffering,
I don’t feel helpful to my immediate family,
Or as relevant, as I once was,
My numbness removes any self-empathy,
When I close my eyes,
I feel like I’m on my back,
Being lowered down a hole,
As the ground caves in above me,
And I scrape at the sides of my own grave.

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The Week is a Vampire

I sit alone in the dark, contemplating my fears,
The silence surrounding me is complete,
As the internal fan of the machine I type into hisses,
Warm air fills the room from a heating unit,
Right now, I’m calm, I want for nothing but time and peace,
But it is Sunday at 10pm, and I fear this calm won’t last,
The morning will bring the usual inescapable stresses,
The onslaught of outsiders indifferent to my struggles,
Five days locked into the iron mask of compliance,
I find it more difficult lately to cope within its confines,
For the first time in my life, I feel it constricting,
It takes so much for me now to deliver, there is too much,
There are too many demands, I can feel myself slipping,
I feel like a car whose interior light was left on overnight,
And nobody knows that by morning, I’ll have nothing left,
I feel powerless, all I can do is watch myself fade,
But it takes income to keep that heating unit running,
It takes great toil to keep that machine fan hissing,
The week is a vampire with an insatiable hunger,
And I willingly cast myself into its great maw to survive.

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Office Toxicity

Stressed is desserts spelt backwards,
I don’t find it sweet, I feel:
Pushed,
Restless,
Sleepless,
Sick,
Rushed,
Anxious,
Angry,
Tired,
Over emotional,
Pressure makes diamonds,
Not in a workplace, it increases mistakes,
Causes emotional burnout,
Creates a blur where there should be clarity,
Adding pressure makes no sense,
And no, I won’t put a pin in it and circle back.


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Are You Loathsome Tonight?

The authentic me lies hidden,
While the palatable me is on display,
A stand-offish, grumpy, prickly personality,
These are shields, masks, an odd armour of sorts,
It’s all fake, a ruse, a folly designed to trick,
The real me is too fragile, the real me I protect,
With tools of manipulation, I deceive to survive,
Not to survive you, but to survive a day as me,
Just enough so that I can get up again tomorrow,
The ruse has become permanent, now a fused mask,
It conceals the real me from all, lately, even myself,
But it is a mask I must continue to wear,
For I loathed me, long before it became fashionable.

A truth nobody wants to hear (2025)
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The Furthermost Point

I feel that I am at my furthermost point in life now,
To help you understand, let me paint you a picture,
Close your eyes, visualise a vast solid black square,
A thin fibrous fading white line, lays perfectly straight,
Extending from the very edge of the black expanse,
Terminating at the centre, as a small emitting white dot,
That’s me, this is my current location, my headspace,
Currently unwell, intentionally disconnected, and very tired,
I am people tired, self-control tired, talk tired, and sick of ‘the show’,
Where do I go from the centre of my furthermost point,
I simply do not know.