Today is World Mental Health Day and I couldn’t think of anyone better than to guest post for me today! My big brother Stephen has had it pretty tough. Stephen has a blog, although he doesn’t write for it much anymore, it still has his posts. If you have half an hour go and give them a read, they are pretty tough going.
World Mental Health Day
Happy, playful, joyful and strong, a father filled with love, adoration laughter and fun. A job that is sturdy, pays well, that I like. My life is secure, plain sailing and calm, YEA RIGHT!
On the outside, I am everything you want in a son, in a dad or a brother. A great friend some would say, but behind closed doors when the cameras are off, I struggle and will often crumble and cry. Mental EH!
Every day is a war, every thought a bullet. You need to save yourself, hide and find cover. You’re watching your world fall apart all around, you know you can stop it, you’re up for the fight. You’re strong, you are normal, you know you’re alright. YEA RIGHT!
Your friends all around you, family, your mother and your lover. All doing their best to make sure you don’t suffer. You know they are there, you know what they want, you want it too… they know that you do.
Mental Health is a thief. It takes all you hold dear. All you can do is watch, but you’re nowhere near. The more people help, the more you push away. You won’t be happy until your last day. Sick of trying to explain that you’re alive but you’re dead, you’re alright in your body but you are screwed in the head. You remember your life how it once was, you know you are good, it is plain for all to see.
Here I am in the hospital, I can’t go on anymore, I have no fight left, I have lost my war. The me you remember is well and truly gone. I am no longer that person, the one that you love. I’m selfish I don’t care. All that I want are the dark thoughts to not be there.
I wish I had cancer, a tumour, or worse. At least then they would have seen how terminal I was. I cried out for help but the screams were lost. I had it all. A job, a house and a car but that’s all material it doesn’t mean jack. All I needed were the professionals to have my back. I couldn’t keep fighting, It was a war I could not win.I battled for years but it was in vain for now once again, like when I joined up. I am a number, another statistic. Another life stolen.
I have lost everything now, all that I love. A mistake, a desperate action without due care. A permanent solution to a temporary problem they say. It did not bother me that fateful day. I can’t take it back now though my soul has left, I watch my body laying still over there. As I float off above. I wish that I hadn’t of course I do, but pick up the pieces is all they can do. The children have lost their rock and they are mad. Who can blame them I was their dad.
This is a poem I wrote in February last year (2016) and is part of a series of posts that I am planning to write over May. Supporting Mental Health Awareness month and concentrating my efforts on the subjects I know best, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety and Suicidal thoughts