Self-Harm Poem

I just wrote this poem. It is basically how i feel about my self-harm. What do you think?

I was innocent until I was thirteen.

Then my arms became unclean.

Maybe picking up that razor was a big mistake

But on the inside I was beginning to break.

Things got harder as I got older

I was left on each shoulder a heavy boulder.

The hills got steeper

And I cut deeper.

The scars got prominent

Self harm became dominant.

Now it’s too late

I have sealed my fate.

The blade is too much of a friend

One on which I may always depend.

Brokenmind

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My Experiences of the Crisis Team

Everyone has different experiences of the crisis team that varies from area to area. I’ve had experiences with two crisis teams. One better than the other. My first experience of the crisis team was in the city where I studied at university. I had been arrested for criminal damage but because I had also self harmed I was taken to hospital where I was bailed under the agreement I see the crisis team. After treatment for my self-harm I was sent to the day ward to wait for the crisis team. I waited from roughly 7-8am until gone 5pm in the evening. The only reason I didn’t leave was because I didn’t know the way out of the hospital as I had never been there before. I just sat there all that time without being offered food or water while being really scared to leave. When this nurse from the crisis team finally came she asked me a few questions for about 10 minutes and that was it. I was sent home. My second experience was back in my hometown after being forced to leave university. I had taken an overdose and after getting discharged from hospital I saw the crisis team for 2 nights before being discharged from their care after seeing the psychiatrist. It was a neutral experience really, not particularly helpful but not especially negative.

My third experience of the crisis team was back in the city where I studied at university after restarting my degree the following year. It was absolutely shocking! I went to an appointment with my student counsellor who was concerned about me. After she couldn’t contact my CPN she got an emergency GP appointment and took me there herself for the GP to to phone the crisis team who said they would be in touch within two hours. My counsellor took me back to the office so she could keep an eye on me and we waited. In the end she couldn’t wait with me any longer and contacted the crisis team. The crisis team told my counsellor they were busy and that someone would see me before 10pm. It was now about 5pm. My counsellor reluctantly sent me home and I waited at home. I think it was about midnight when they finally came. My GP had referred me around 3pm.

                When they finally came it was pointless. I think they stayed around 10-15 minutes and were exceptionally unhelpful. The day after they came again, again only staying around 15 minutes in which time they laughed and joked with each other and told me I would feel better if I had a job. I was struggling to manage with university as it was, so getting a job was the last thing I should/could’ve done. After this unhelpful and anger provoking experience I told my CPN I would never see them again. After sometime and me being stubborn in the fact I would not see the crisis team my CPN at the time made an agreement that in times of distress I could contact the A&E liaison team (a.k.a the self-harm team) which operated separately from the crisis team. Their job was to basically see people in A&E after an episode of self-harm and make the necessary referrals. I had a much better experiences with them and had built up relationships with some of the nurses due to my frequent attendance at A&E.

                The following year things got way too much for me. My CPN who I had developed major attachment issues with was on annual leave. One night my head was such a mess and the only people available were the crisis team. I phoned them as I was desperate. What followed was my worst experience of the crisis team. It started off ok but then they just bluntly started asking really personal and triggering questions. Questions that were very sensitive and shouldn’t be asked  over the phone. I hung up and took it out on myself. What resulted was my worst ever episode of self harm. I went to hospital via ambulance and while there had to be looked after by police I was so messed up mentally. At one point I ended up being restrained by the police because i was so distressed. I was transferred from hospital to another hospital with a plastic surgery unit. From there I was admitted informally to a psychiatric unit. I still rightly or wrongly blame this on the crisis team and how they handled me that evening. Never in my life will I use the crisis team in that city again. I still have a strong hate for them over 2 years later.

                That hospital admission lead to me being sectioned for two years. Afterwards I moved back to my hometown. After being out of hospital a week and a half one of my CPNs said she wanted me to see the crisis team for extra support. Well now they had rebranded themselves to the intensive home based treatment team, I still refer to them as the crisis team because that is what they essentially are. I was apprehensive to say the least. I was not impressed to start with but their care became better and in the end I built up a good relationship with two of the workers over a three-four week period. The other nurses were not brilliant however and I found their visits pretty pointless and unhelpful.

                Again last week I was referred back to the crisis team. Again my experiences with those two workers has been good but not with the others. Last Friday when they came out to see me they told me they would call at 10am the next day. They didn’t and I ended up being stressed out all day waiting for their call. It finally came at 4.30ish and when they came out to see me it was pretty pointless. Today I met with one of the good workers and I had a really positive meeting. I feel she is the only person that understands me at the moment. I actually wish that she and the other worker were part of my regular care team.

                So experiences with the crisis team can be good but they can also be disastrously bad. I have heard so many times from people in different areas of the country of how bad crisis teams are. They do repeatedly let people down which is really quite bad as crisis teams are there to help people when they are at their worst and in most need. Quite often crisis teams can make things worse but on some occasions they can be helpful. It is all very hit and miss. I guess as a service any crisis team will never be perfect. I guess it is the nature of their service. What are your experiences of the crisis team?

Brokenmind

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Low Points Of My Life Due To My Mental Health

I’ve been thinking about writing this blog post for a while and I thought I would do it now seen as though I feel crap and I need to distract. Maybe the subject is not the best thing to write about but maybe writing about bad times in the past will distract away from the current bad time I am going through.

So this blog is going to be about my 5 all time low experiences because of my mental health. They are not in a particular order as I don’t think you should rank things like these.

1.       Seclusion

The first time I was in seclusion was horrible. I was a patient on a PICU and I can’t even remember what I had done but they decided to put me in seclusion. I remember being dragged in whilst in restraint. They laid me on the mat and ran out closing this huge metal door behind them.  The room was bare except this big purple mat. I cried and cried and cried. It was a massive shock as I had never been locked in a cell or anything similar before. I wasn’t in long as I think they could tell it was distressing me significantly. It was about half an hour but it did feel like a lifetime at the time. I came out still crying and a nurse even offered to hug me I was so upset but then another one jumped in and said he couldn’t. I was in seclusion numerous times after that, my longest stint being over 24 hours. It still upset me for a while but after the 10^th or so time I had become desensitised to it. The first few times were horrid and the feelings you get from being locked up in seclusion are indescribable. You are utterly powerless. As a criminal locked in police cells and the like you have rights. As a mental health patient in seclusion you have none. No right to see a solicitor or to challenge being locked up. You can be in there for an unlimited time; it’s up to the doctors when they let you out. You feel total and utter powerlessness. I wouldn’t wish the experience of seclusion on my worst enemy. I wrote this poem after a period in seclusion once.

 There is a room with nothing there

Just a great big door and walls that are bare.

The only thing that fills the space

Is my broken mind and the tears that rush down my face.

Anger fuelled by torment and distress

The walls begin to move and my mind they compress.

With no way out it’s hard to cope

So once again in life you begin to lose hope.

With thoughts racing it’s hard to know what to feel

Someone please save me this cannot be real.

I pray that this is all an illusion

But as my head hits the wall, I know it’s real...

...I know this is seclusion

May I also add that one evening I was secluded in somebody else’s filth for a few hours. This guy had seriously assaulted a nurse and smashed his jaw to pieces and therefore had been placed in seclusion for over a week until a bed was found at a more secure hospital. That morning he had been moved. I was secluded in the evening and they hadn’t cleaned the seclusion room. As I was being dragged in other nurses were clearing out all the rubbish. When I was locked in it stank and there were bits of food everywhere. Not to mention the invisible dirt that was no doubt in there like sweat and urine. It was disgusting. How can they lock you up in somebody elses filth? Very degrading.

2.       A&E

One time I was in A&E after an episode of self harm. I was accompanied by the police. I remember getting agitated by the way the A&E staff were treating me as well as the police. I decided to leave. I went to walk through the door and the police grabbed me. There was a struggle. I ended up in handcuffs and leg restraints and laid on this mat on the floor the nurses had brought in. I was laid on this mat and all my bandages had come off in the struggle. I was left in handcuffs and leg restraints lying in my own blood for a good while. I was crying. Would they have left an animal lying in their own blood like that? It makes me feel sad when I think about this. It was a very low point in my life. They had also during the struggle placed me under section 136. Afterwards they just took that away and said I could go if I saw crisis team. So was all that even necessary? No it fucking wasn’t.

3.       Transfer from hospital

Again this incident involves the police. Surprised? I had been an inpatient for a about a week and a half. I’d just been transferred from the assessment unit to an open treatment unit. I had been there a few days and I was very mentally unstable. Another patient had destroyed something I had been working on all day in the craft room so I went and found her and threw a jug of water over her in the dining room. An argument followed and then I went to my room. About an hour later 2 nurses came into my room and told me to pack my things. I asked why and they told me I was moving back to the hospital I’d just moved from. I was confused and asked them why I was moving back to the assessment unit and they said I wasn’t. The other unit there was the PICU and I had previously been told that is where violent people go. I was scared and said I didn’t want to go there so I got out of bed and walked out of my room. 2 police officers were waiting for me and they threw me into the wall. I banged my head and I was then wrestled to the floor and cuffed. By this stage I was hysterically crying from the shock and brutality of it. All I had done was walk out my room. I hadn’t been violent or anything. The hospital was on lock down so they must have been prepared for it for some reason. I was dragged through the hospital down the stairs and thrown into the back of a police van. By the time I reached the PICU I was in a right state. I was placed in open seclusion (the outer bit and not the locked cell) and given medication to calm me down. I will never forget this experience ever. I am still shocked and angry about how they treated me. I was a mental health patient not a criminal.

4.       Being “line of sight”

After being in hospital a year I became significantly unwell again. After an incident of restraint and me stabling myself with a pen I was placed on 2:1 observations. For the first time I was placed on “line of sight” in the bathroom. This means the 2 nurses on my observations had to watch me in the bathroom basically. It was horrid. They watched me on the toilet and I think you’ll agree having a poo is a private thing so having not one but two people watching you is very degrading. It was a fairly distressing thing to do too. I really didn’t want to but I suppose when you got to go you got to go. Having my first shower on “line of sight” was an unpleasant experience too. I am very self conscious about my body and having two people watch you fully naked is not an enjoyable thing. Being in hospital kind of makes you desensitise to exposing your body, you definitely lose your dignity when unwell.

5.       Being IM’d in public

I was in restraint one day in the PICU and I was really distressed and struggling back. I was in the corridor of the communal area which was for both male and female patients of the ward. They dropped me on the floor and continued restraining me. Everyone was watching me including male patients when they pulled my pants down and injected me. Surely this should have been a private event. Its bad enough being IM’d without others seeing it happen to you and seeing your bare arse. How did this make me feel when I had calmed down? Embarrassed, ashamed and feeling like a total twat. Afterwards people were like “oh H that was good, you are crazy” blah blah blah. It wasn’t good, it was awful. Any occasion of being IM’d is an unpleasant experience but this was the worst.

There are other bad experiences i've had due to my mental health, but these are the ones that have made me feel the worse. alot of them when i think about them make me feel sad and angry.

Brokenmind

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Psychologist's Assessment

I wasn’t expecting much from this psychology assessment I had today. All I really expected was for me to give my life history, he tell me I need therapy and then he further tell me the waiting list is 12-18 months. Well surprisingly it was much better than that. I came away happy and I felt like I had actually got somewhere with services for a change.

                I was anxious before I went in, I was sat in the waiting room nervous but I kind of had figured how it was going to pan out. Maybe that’s what made me nervous. I’ve had six assessments by psychologists in the past. Two in the community before hospital and four in hospital, why would the seventh be any different? You talk about yourself, its hard and then you come away feeling dejected and more often than not feeling worse than you did before. I thought I would have an issue with him being male but I didn’t. I would have before hospital but being in hospital you get used to all the male nurses and doctors and I think I learnt I could get along with males.

                He started off asking me how I’ve been since hospital. I said I’d had difficulties at the start with self-harm and overdosing but that now I am managing that but I suffer with my mood still. We moved onto when I first started experiencing difficulties and I told him it was when I was 13 and described what they were. He asked if anything had happened around that age. At first I said no but then remembered something little. I told him what it was in little detail. I dismissed it as nothing much but he thought it was big. He said it was an attempted rape but I denied that. He asked me if I was to accept that it was an attempted rape, how would that make me feel. I said I don’t know because it wasn’t. We moved on through my life explaining how I was and various incidents that occurred. We discussed my old CPN V and what lead up to me being sectioned. We talked about family relationships and other relationships. We discussed how I felt about myself. We also talked about other stuff too but I cannot remember.

                He then said the session was coming to a close. He told me what he thought which was the first time a psychologist had ever done that. He told me that I have dismissed all the things that have happened to me in my life. I see them as unimportant. It then leaves me confused about why I feel and behave like I do. This makes me angry at myself and I think I am bad. I get trapped in a cycle of shame and guilt which further leads me to behave like I do. As a consequence I punish myself. He then goes on to say that services have also then further punished me by labelling and locking me up without getting to the bottom of why I feel and behave like I do. He said he has read lots of reports about me and that only one had a little something written in about what he classes as the attempted rape. He says there is lots of blame on me.

                When I heard this I was surprised. I felt a sense of relief that someone had finally explained something to me about me.  Also surprised that perhaps he understood me well. . It made me feel sad because if it were the truth it is a very sad situation. It kind of made me want to hug this person he was talking about and tell them everything would be ok. I felt sorry for this person he was talking about but I don’t know if I could accept that it’s me. Maybe it is me but I do find it hard to accept. I suppose it just felt good that he attempted to understand me and actually tell me what he thought at the end. Nobody has ever done that before. He said he was going to speak to a colleague about me who specialises in a type of therapy that is based on relationships. He didn’t tell me the name of it. He said he would get back to me. I hope its good news.

Brokenmind

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Do I Have Anti-Social Personality Disorder?

So do I have anti-social personality disorder? According to the IPDE (international personality disorder examination) I do. I did this while in hospital and it came back that I have a definite diagnosis of ASPD. There are 3 results for each PD within the IPDE; negative, probable and definite diagnosis. I got the definite diagnosis but I find this hard to believe. It just doesn’t fit. I had a hard time accepting this in hospital. Immediately after my results from the psychiatrist I ended up in restraint and then in general hospital after ingesting hair removal cream. I didn’t take it well. So therefore I am going to breakdown the criteria then make my conclusion on whether I think I have ASPD. After all I know myself better than anyone else. I wonder what I will conclude.

There are 2 types of ASPD the DSM version which is ASPD and the ICD version called dissocial personality disorder. I will start with the DSM.

DSM-Iv

A)     There is a pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by three or more of the following:

1.       Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest;

Ok so in my life time I have committed a crime, who hasn’t? I wouldn’t say I repeatedly engage in acts that are grounds for arrest. The crimes I have committed are minor; possession of cannabis and occasionally a few other drugs, criminal damage and weapon carrying. These are all on my criminal record and I’ve been done for them. Cautions for possession of cannabis and criminal damage and a 12 month conditional discharge for possession of an offensive weapon. However except for the cannabis possession (which I can’t really blame my mental health for, or can I?) I committed these crimes because I was mentally unwell for other reasons. I have 2 cautions for criminal damage. The first being while living in halls and “losing it” and smashing the place up. The second for smashing the ward up while I was under section. Yes that’s right I was detainable at the time and therefore mentally unwell. So wouldn’t these acts of crime be due to my other personality disorder (BPD)?

2.       Deception, as indicated by repeatedly lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure;

This is not me at all. I am a very honest person. Often too honest for my own good. I’ve never used an alias and I’ve never conned others for personal profit or pleasure.

3.       Impulsiveness or failure to plan ahead;

Well yes I am impulsive. I cannot argue with that. But isn’t impulsiveness a criteria for BPD?

4.       Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults;

I get mildly irritable at times, nothing major. I have been aggressive in the past this was mainly whilst in hospital. I was mentally unwell due to other reasons at the time and was releasing anger that had built up over my entire life. In normal situations I am not aggressive at all. I had one fight, if that’s what you can call it, at school and one in hospital with a fellow patient. I also “assaulted” another patient in hospital. But again was that because I was unwell for other reasons other than ASPD?

5.       Reckless disregard for safety of self or others;

This is a weird one. In some situations, yes. In everyday situations I am very conscious of my safety and of others. I sometimes neglect my safety in other ways such as self-harm, overdoses, drinking, taking drugs etc. Again could this not be down to my BPD.

6.       Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work     behavior or honor financial obligations;

Well basically I can agree with this. This fits. I cannot argue.

7.       Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another;

I suppose this can be me. Not the stealing bit though. But I hate to admit it but at times I do have a lack of remorse. If I am brutally honest I sometimes fake remorse in order to make myself feel better about myself because I know it is very cold of me. Not always though, I can genuinely be remorseful sometimes.

B)      The individual is at least age 18 years.

Well yes I am 24

C)      There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset before age 16 years.

I was never diagnosed with conduct disorder when I was younger. But from what I know about it there is a possibility I had it. I was a very naughty teenager, I constantly was getting into trouble and I had a serious problem with authority.

D)     The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or a manic episode.

I do not have schizophrenia nor have I ever been manic

ICD-10

The World Health Organization's International Statistical Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems, tenth edition (ICD-10), defines a conceptually similar disorder to antisocial personality disorder called (F60.2) Dissocial personality disorder.

It is characterized by at least 3 of the following:              

1.       Callous unconcern for the feelings of others

Not really no. maybe at times but I wouldn’t say it’s callous.

2.       Gross and persistent attitude of irresponsibility and disregard for social norms, rules, and obligations.

Maybe. Occasionally. But to what extent would a disregard for social norms be? Maybe I could fit into this criterion in a minor way. I wouldn’t say I did in an extreme way and not in a way that causes me problems and definitely not gross and persistent.

3.       Incapacity to maintain enduring relationships, though having no difficulty in establishing them

No, I have friends. Some of them I’ve had for years, since I was a young child. Romantic relationships are another story but I don’t think it necessarily means romantic ones.

4.       Very low tolerance to frustration and a low threshold for discharge of aggression, including violence.

Pretty much the same criterion as DSM. At times yes, although maybe this is when I’m mentally unwell due to other things.

5.       Incapacity to experience guilt or to profit from experience, particularly punishment.

Yes. I cannot argue with this. I never learn from experience.

6.       Markedly prone to blame others or to offer plausible rationalizations for the behavior that has brought the person into conflict with society.

Not necessarily prone to blame others but I do rationalize my negative behaviors.

So there we have it, the criteria for both ASPD and DPD. I will now conclude.

ASPD

The first criterion states I must meet 3 of the 7 sub criteria. I can only say for certain I meet 2. A few others are borderline or slight. I meet the second criterion being that I am over 24. The 3^rd is evidence of conduct disorder before 18. This is a possibility although I was never diagnosed. The 4^th criterion is the absence of schizophrenia or manic episode. I meet that one. So therefore I cannot be diagnosed with ASPD as I only meet 2 of the 3 needed sub-criteria for criterion A.

DPD

I can only say I meet 1 of the criterion for definite for DPD. Others again are borderline or slight. Therefore I cannot be diagnosed with DPD.

In hospital I did a bit of psycho-education. What I learnt is that a personality disorder must be problematic, persistent and pervasive (the 3 P’s). None of the criteria above are really problematic, persistent or pervasive. So that further goes against a diagnosis of ASPD or DPD.

According to my own little diagnosis thing that I’ve done here I do not have ASPD or DPD. A friend once told me in hospital that if you have ever committed a crime then it’s easy for them to label you with ASPD. How reliable is the IPDE? I must admit I don’t really trust the results of my IPDE. This is because I did mine with the nurse therapist in hospital. Apparently she was trained in conducting them but she was a pretty useless nurse. I know for a fact if I did it again my results would be different. But whatever labels they would like to give me I don’t really care. I will not let them define me. From doing this I have realised how stupid diagnosis’ can be. How can you condemn someone to such a negative diagnosis through a set of bullshit criteria? What do half the criteria actually mean anyway? It’s all subjective anyway. None of it can be concrete. One psychiatrist’s opinion will vary from another. Diagnoses are basically unreliable.

What do you think?

Brokenmind

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Hospital Overview (part 2)

Ok so time for part 2 of my hospital blog. It took me a while to get around to writing it.

On the 10^th of May 2010 I was transferred from the PICU to a private hospital. I was placed on a specialist personality disorder unit. I remember having high expectations of the place but I was majorly disappointed when I arrived. There wasn’t much to it to be honest, I walked on to the ward into this really crappy looking communal area. I was shown to my room and I remember thinking where is the rest of it? It was a very small and claustrophobic place. I was immediately placed on 1:1 observations so they could monitor me to see how I was settling in. I’d never been on 1:1s before except briefly after periods in seclusion at my last hospital. I was on 1:1s for 3 days which I didn’t mind so much because I was scared about the other patients around me as I didn’t know them. It was hell this new hospital. There was nothing to do, so many people to get used to and it was much stricter. We could only smoke once every 2 hours and I spent most my time laying on my bed staring at the wall counting down to the next cigarette time. I will never forget how hellish it was those first few months. I was numb from risperidone as it was but the place numbed me out further.

                I immediately got a solicitor to help me challenge my section and everyday I obsessed over getting out, it was all I could ever think about. Hate is not a strong enough word to describe how I felt about the place. I felt like I was trapped in hell. A couple of months went by and one day I got my results from the staff grade psychiatrist on the IPDE (international personality disorder examination). I received a definite diagnosis for borderline, avoidant and anti-social personality disorders along with “traits” of schizoid personality disorder. I had a very big problem with the anti-social personality disorder diagnosis. I started to obsess over the fact I was a psychopath as I thought that is what it meant. I went to my room afterwards and lost it. I ended up in restraint. I felt so terribly guilty afterwards that I really wanted to hurt myself. I sat in my bathroom and noticed my hair removal cream. I ingested some of it. I’m not sure how because it was vile but I guess it shows what state of mind I was in. My lips swelled and my throat burned and I was taken to general hospital by ambulance. I was escorted by 3 nurses, a bit excessive if you ask me but then again that hospital was always excessive. I spent the night in hospital for observations after a clear chest x-ray and made numerous attempts to run away. The day after I was taken back to the ward.

                My first tribunal occurred in august, I was unsuccessful. A couple months went by and I was taken of my risperidone. I suddenly started to feel again. I was high practically all of the time. I went from being a quiet, shy and introverted patient to exceptionally loud and extroverted. I danced, sang and was generally “off on one” around the ward. But the crash had to come and it did. On our way out to cigarette time I a bit too overenthusiastically booted the office door. I was informed I wouldn’t be able to go out for this cigarette. I lost it ended up in restraint. Later on I started stabling myself with a pen and ended up in restraint again. I ended up on 2:1 observations for my own and others protection. This was the first time I had ever been “line of sight” in the bathroom. It is the most degrading thing to experience. People watching you take a shit and having a shower. It was December by this time and I remained off and on 2:1 observations throughout the month and into January. I remember being so fucked up in my head I once cried out for my mum to rescue me. The nurses doped me up on clopixol and lorazepam even though it was PRN and oral they insisted I took it. I had some Pringles wrapped up from my mother for Christmas which I somehow got through as they were contraband. I self harmed with the metal base, it cut like a fine razor. I was very messed up during this period. I think probably my worst period of mental instability. I could write a lot more of what happened but I think I have written enough.

                As I came out of this period I started to progress quite quickly. I think being so low in December made me put things in perspective. I was doing so well I got my section 17 escorted leave back. I had another tribunal at the end of January and was once against unsuccessful however they did make a recommendation for “shadowed leave” which should progress onto unescorted leave. The shadowed leave went well and by May I was granted unescorted leave. The place was still hell and I wanted out but it was slightly more bearable now I could get out on my own. My unescorted leave increased relatively quickly for that hospital which was notorious for being overly cautious. I had a few “incidents” over the months but nothing major. I had another tribunal set for the end of august but due to lack of accommodation me and my solicitor decided to ask for an adjournment until this was sorted. It was adjourned until 4^th of November. Luckily a couple of weeks before my tribunal I was accepted for accommodation. I was told I could move in on the 7^th of November. At my section 117 meeting my consultant agreed to discharge me on the 7^th anyway so I cancelled my tribunal.

                That was basically my time spent on the personality disorder unit. I could write forever about all the stuff that happened and such but this is just a brief overview with the important bits. I’m sure in time I will probably blog about certain incidents. Boring this post I know.

Brokenmind

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Collection of Poems

I've just sorted out some poems to email the guy who runs my creative writing group. These are for the book they publish annually. I thought while i had copied and pasted these to email i mights as well make a blog post out of them too. Some are old and some are new. I wonder if you can guess which are old and which new? Hope you enjoy :)

Detained

What was I doing there?

I didn’t commit any crime

But I was still locked up

I was doing time.

But it was not a prison

It was a hospital so they say

But I was still being punished

Every single day.

You cannot do this

You cannot do that

You cannot stand

You must be sat.

They told you when to sleep

When to smoke, eat and drink

So many rules

I struggled to think.

You cannot have your possessions

We must lock them away

This is for your safety

They repeatedly did say.

It is such a relief

That I am now free

I can now move on

And go back to being me.

Caged

There was a rabbit

Kept in his cage

And it’s not unreasonable

He sometimes felt rage.

Because even though

He was always fed

And provided for him

Was a nice warm bed.

There were always people

Around him to care

But to be caged

He felt wasn’t fair.

What he wanted

And need so much

Was the outside world

For him to touch.

He wanted to feel

The nice warm sun

And wildly and freely

He wanted to run.

For every day

He was kept locked away

In mental torment

He did stay.

Imprisoned Within

There is a person I’d like you meet

A person that one day in real life you could great.

This person is strong, confident and smart

Caring, compassionate with a great big heart.

Well adjusted and well expressed

A peoples person self confessed.

Up for a challenge, she’ll do her best

She’ll stop at nothing in her quest.

Motivated to reach her goal

Good at exercising self-control.

Fighting hard at what she believes

And the impossible she does achieve.

However there is sadness in the tale

But one that hopefully the goodness shall prevail.

This person is trapped, a slave to fear

And the path to freedom isn’t so clear.

Locked in the dark with so little light

But to escape the madness is her plight.

Bodiless, she is trapped in my mind

And her way to the real world she needs to find.

Oppressed and battered by menacing thought

The paranoia, the anger she takes the onslaught.

The odds of her arrival are not in her favour

But she will continue to fight, carrying on being braver.

One day the walls will be all knocked down

And the rightful person can take her crown.

She will live the life she so rightly deserves

One full of laughter no regrets or reserves.

A Shrine to the Fallen

My mind is a battlefield

Dark, cold and distant

Chaotic and lethal

Total destruction

Deadly.

Deadly

Frenzied attack

Death becomes all

No opportunity of flight

Isolated in the darkest night.

My thoughts are the soldiers

Each for their own

No united front

Ruthless tactics

Merciless.

Merciless

Truce forbidden

Increasing in pressure

Nothing left to slaughter

Just an empty shell remains.

Scars

Lines of faded white
intertwined with darkened red
The physical evidence
Of all that is wrong within my head.

As I have sat and I have etched
The lines into my arm
A release of all my pain
As blood trickles to my palm.

A short lived release
Leaves scars that never fade
A brief moment of relief
But another mess I have made.

A constant reminder
Of my darkest despair
Me and my scars
A darkened affair.

My Bloody Suicide

This is my existence
Ended by the knife
Blood spills and splatters
To end my stupid life.

As here i lay dying
My short life passes through my eyes
Hurt, upset and anger
Broken promises and lies.

Death is upon me
And My soul starts to fade
For all the sins i commited
With my life i have paid

Here i am now
No longer realistic
Destined to be
Just Another statistic

Blood stained blue skin
Eyes shut and body cold
I am gone
And my story is told

There is nothing

Left to hide
This is my
Bloody suicide.

Misery

I can't escape this misery
It's taking over me
Skewing my perception
No future left to see.

I can't escape this misery
It's started to eat my soul
Feeding parasitically
Now i'm no longer whole.

I can't escape this misery
That daily plagues my mind
To a future of happiness
It's succeeded to make me blind.

I can't escape this misery
That lingers everyday
Suicide is an option
If it continues to have it's way.
 

Brokenmind

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