Writing As A Form Of Therapy

[Mazarita]

@Silenus, I like your dream with Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and their boredom. I don't remember dreams much except in fragments at the moment, haven't for a while really. Used to be obsessed with them. Still like them. I'm also aware of a lot of boredom with me at the moment. Someone I know tells me the one who is bored is the boring one. Maybe it was Mick and Keith who had the problem in your dream. I find you interesting!

Traffic making a sound like rain, except for a car horn. A crow rising above with its cry. It's that time of the afternoon when the sun shines through the trees and creates wavery patterns on the blinds. An everyday joy.

Time is going slowly in much solitude through this semi-delirious, viral state I'm in.

[Former-Member]

Silence

Silence back then
Silence now

Silence

It broke my heart then
It breaks my heart now

Silence

Stay silent
Stay silent

[Silenus]

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@Kirin wrote:
Good on you @Silenus

Isn't that the grand plan? Fool the rest!?

5 months into unemployment and nearly 2 years into part time employment I don't think I'll ever get to where I was, nor do I want to. My goal posts have changed.

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Hey @Former-Member... 🙂

Yeah, it sure is the grand plan...

I've spent about the past 5 years being chronically under-employed or totally unemployed, the vast majority of it on my own coin because I couldn't handle the Centrelink hoops - they were very triggering to me.

Truth be told, I don't think that I will ever get back to where I was either, and I don't think that is a bad thing. I spent 20-odd years ignorantly repeating the wash and rinse cycle of hypomania for 1 to 2 years, then a breathtaking dive into depression for at least 6 months... not the sort of thing that I ever want to be a party to again.

It really sux that I will never be as "capable" as I was back then, but I guess in the grand scheme of things, all I have really done is to smooth out some of the peaks and troughs of my mood and energy cycles. It's tough going, but I think that it is for the best.

I really struggled at work today. I was this close [holds fingers very close together] to doing a runner. I spent about half an hour in the toilets at work, having a quiet semi-panic attack. I don't think that anyone who hasn't experienced this sort of thing will ever understand how difficult it is to do what "normal" people take for granted - being able to achieve ordinary things in ordinary ways without falling apart and needing every fibre of your being to put yourself back together again...

Sigh...

One more day to finish the week. This stuff is killing me, softly or otherwise...

I don't think that I will ever be able to do full time work for extended periods again (i.e. longer than about 6 months of white-knuckle-gripping it). I don't see that as a weakness, as such. Alas, society doesn't agree with me...

Sending hugs and happy vibes beaming your way.

[Silenus]

Hahaha... cheers Maz @Mazarita... yeah, I loved that Mick and Keef dream. Tell you what - their mansion was sweeeeet... a very impressive dream, as far as the imaginary senses went. Lush and detailed.

I love dreams. I once spent about 3 years without having a dream that I could remember. It was terrible. I'm glad that I am back to dreaming semi-regularly again.

Sending lots of hugs and happy vibes your way. 🙂

[Silenus]

One of the worst things about my bipolar is this - my burning inner anger, my turmoil of inner rage. I much prefer peace and quiet and gentle emotions, and a path somewhat philosophical and at peace. Rarely does my bipolar let me have my way...

Trying to control or at least survive the fiery emotional heights and icy emotionless depths... that is something that people who haven't experienced it will ever understand. It is a hell of our own making. Often, we are our own very worst enemies...

This poem deals with that - too much emotion for this frail body to contain...

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It's All the Rage

This is the anger that courses and coruscates through every fibre of my being,
Fired and fuelled by the raw emotional tempest of bipolar,
Breathtakingly beyond the power of most people to even comprehend;
Do I break or do I bend?
Do I go supernova instead of just solar?
Do I fight it instead of agreeing?

[Silenus]

Seven
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Seven years in my bed, hiding under leaden sheets,
Seven years in my head, suckling at depression's teats;
Seven bridges crashed and burned as emotions had their way,
Seven ways to kick myself with frozen feet of clay;
Seven days in a week, a weakling without strength,
Seven endless torments, lost without length;
Seven times I strayed from the path that led to heaven,
Seven times I thought to think of the number seven;
Damn, I can't even count the ways I lost my way...

[eudemonism]

I sincerely think i have no emotions. I sincerely do not know where they have gone. Perhaps they are behind the mask. Perhaps they have taken a walk down the dark path. I seek no more then peace of mind and a little happiness. What i need is right in front me. And what i want has become a prison.

I would be lying if i said. I did not suffer from addiction. Addiction to self loathing with myself. About the inflections. Reality has cruelly placed upon me. A cat in my lap. And a dog at the door. And all i want is to overcome my self inflicted method of self loathing. So i can walk out the door and seek more.

If life were a test. I would say i have failed. Although it is actually more like. A game of determination which causes only tribulation. Which not even the rain. Can wash away. I have had several tastes of loving intoxication. And it is the only reward. From this cruel game. Yet the sun. Still shines on me.

Blessed with the ability to endure. Blessed with perseverance also. The tribulation. Has not overcome me. But merely turned my heart into a stone. And turned me into what i can only describe. As a medicated drone. Oh the joys. Of being mentally ill. Have not once allowed me to feel.

A sickening feeling of betrayal. Lives within. The heart of the medicated drone. Always knowing when to hide, retreat and admit his defeat. It is his best weapon against the cruel reality. Of torturous thoughts which maliciously attack him from within his own mind. No words like hers ease the pain more.

A prayer to the powers of the universe. To leave him be in peace. Is said bye his inner voice. During the vicious storms of self betrayal. So he can know the feelings of self loathing. Once again. His search for rescue. Has only found a never ending maze. But he does indeed. Enjoy spending his days. Searching in vein. A weary traveller comes to his door. Every once and a while. But only few come back for more.

[Faith-and-Hope]

Just stopping by to say hi @Silenus @eudemonism ......

[Former-Member]

hello @Mazarita

I too have always had a great love for Mick Jagger and the other rolling stones

I loved everything about Mick that the world hated....funny about that

He also  shares my birthday...not my age though

Sir Mick is living proof that you can be intelligent, make a  difference, whilst being so different

[Former-Member]

@eudemonism

good to see you writing your thoughts on here

a step forward to releasing yourself from the heavy chains that hold you back within your self made prison

self-loathing is our biggest enemy and yet ask anyone with a mental illness and they will all tell you that they have been in that dark, dank place

I hope that knowing that you are not alone might bring you some peace

you are here and that takes determination, perseverance and great strength

keep on writing wherever on these forums

you are giving to others...helping carers who have no answers..understanding of how bad it feels...that there is a real person underneath those heavy symptoms...always remember the person...look past the symptoms...reach out to the person