Don’t play on my playground~

Don’t play on my playground

The rusty parts might cut you

The hinges may come off

The railing is weak
Don’t play on my playground

They’ll think you a freak

You want to be here on this grey dingy playground no it can’t be

You’ll be on this playground that’s owned by me

It’s so easy to get hurt don’t you see

My playground although dented and corroded is made just for me

I’ve cared for it poorly

It’s not to late

To play safe on the merry go round

I’ll sit and watch and wait

No I’d rather the thrill of the rollar  coaster you know

There is fear in my eyes but it won’t show

No no

I’ve played on my play ground for so long the fear I had now has made me strong

It’s been far to long get off my playground off my merry go round as well

I have a few choice words I’ll keep to myself oh what the hell

There is no more us not now no story to tell

Get off my playground

It’s being renovated

So shiney and new

My playgrounds reserved only for few

That means my playground is not for you

Politics of Mental Illness~

Let’s establish a platform for what I’m about to address. Politics is a good place. Below is a general description of what politics mean.

Politics=

Activities associated with the governance of a country or other area, especially the debate or conflict among individuals or parties having or hoping to achieve power.

I work with others, I stand with others, I promote with others, I believe with others, I fight with others, I dream with other of a day where I no longer must address issue’s such as what I am about to do in this post. Notice all I do with others, notice that I’m part of the collective of “others” like myself.

I try very diligently to educate and facilitate the changes needed to break mental health stigma. You know…. let’s move outside a little more, let’s be inclusive and break all stigma right? Wrong.

Perhaps I’m a bit more skeptical these days. Perhaps it’s cause I’ve invested my time effort that has compelled me to write this.

A question if I may, to provoke a thought process. Can you tell who suffers mental illness by looking at them? In some cases you can, but in 85% you can not.

The 15% are those hospitalized. Or have apparent visual aspects of said mental illness publicly.

I’m gonna ask another question. Why do we suffer, and further why do we suffer alone? Why do we have to go into full explanation of a disability at all? Seen or not seen?

Because it’s the politics of this subject, the debate, the fact that most anyone who is seemingly normal outside yet will act upon psychopathic behavior, killing, raping….these people fall under mentally ill, obviously they are missing a piece of something, and in most cases it’s the mind.

It’s because crimes that are related in violence and killings also relates to mental illness. There, there is the elephant it’s out the closet.

So now what do we do? There is only one thing to do, fight for the right of individuality of each other and our illness. Educate inform. But DO NOT let others generalize you in the umbrella of fear, fear and ignorance.

Further I want expound that bipolar and Schizophrenia are feared most by the public than other illness.

Depression is something that connects us all at one point in our lives, in fact, it’s the only mental illness I know that can cancel out. Meaning, when tragedy strikes we withdraw and get depressed however it may leave and never manifest again until another event that invokes depression. I say cancels out, because EVERYONE has been depressed or BLUE.

Not everyone has bipolar…… I think. Sometimes I question that. We are all dual. Double edged. ANYONE can be pushed to limits they may have never imagined, and incur a break from reality.

So the next time you look at someone next to you and you feel all comfy and normal as do they because what they perceive around them visually seems well, remember nothing is truly ever as it seems.

And to expound further, it’s never the ones you would have guessed.

However if only fear and ignorance was replaced by understanding and a willingness to help end stigma end, the politics of the subject at hand would cease.

Further I have witnessed that the ones you fear, are usually the ones who help in the end, and the one you think helps is still feeling superior in their mind, that there normal. Ha.

Can you define normal? Is it the majority? Sorry you will never understand the entire magnitude of normal. It’s just not normal to politically do so, and that my dear reader is the politics of mental illness.

~The Art of Being Sorry in 4 Simple Steps~

The art of sorry in 4 easy steps…….

For the majority of us being sorry is something we often feel when we do something wrong. We often forget is that when we truly are sorry and we apologize to the other person with whom we done wrong too we open ourselves up for hurt.

Feeling regret or remorse or sorry is an emotion that humans feel after doing something against their lack of better judgment or against their values or morals…..basically in any circumstances that they should’ve acted differently in.

Previously I stated you open yourself up for hurt when you truly are sorry, you then proceed to tell the person with whom you have wronged that hey “I’m sorry truly sorry”

What happens when you are sorry 1. You say it and 2. Mean it and 3. Leave yourself open to the persons response there are no “but’s” or “Could’s” or “Should’s” or Would’s” 4. There is but one single statement” I am sorry” that is all that should come out of your mouth. Next you should prepare yourself to receive whatever the other person Has to say in response to your contriteness silently listening without excuses.

Lately it appears or so it seems that the majority of relationships that I engage in are all one sided. This makes for a lonely existence. Unfortunately however alone it may feel I am learning that it is necessary to limit those around you who continuously make excuses or are master manipulators at trying to always turn everything into their “reasons for” never truly being sorry , only wanting to explain why they did what they did… see that is not sorry, Or at least where I come from that’s not what I was taught.

So to recap…..don’t ever say that you were sorry unless it is the only three words that you were going to say to the person you wronged,there is no excuse for whatever you’re sorry for that’s why it’s called being sorry….So there it is 4 simple steps to the Art of truly being sorry.

~Stigma~ 

Smeared dullness

Catatonic stare

That’s what they think

Washed out color

Long halls painted grey

Not a door insight

Ideas out of focus

Stifling, confusing

Lack luster,  incredulous

emotions …….Clawing away the life fingers scraping their nails jagged and bloody, threads unravelling.. like the sound of a chalk board being scratched.

That’s what stigma, bias does isolates you.

Yet I exist Wrapped inside this cocoon~

Generic and uncategorized yet longing to be labeled and in a category ~ oh wait, I am… I fall under stigma mental illness under my skin, unseen yet relentless in my mind there are millions of my kind.

One size fits all as long as that size is extra large as to swallow my frame,as well as yours.

Swallowing my existence whole~

Preferably invisible~

Left unseen~

To myself~

Designated ~

As is~NJM

Loneliness~

Loneliness

A feeling so singular

A despair that numbs

No one around you

No where for them to come

Much less would you run if they did

Who can you trust

In this life you have to have one

At least they say it’s a must

Don’t believe them

There is……

A home that is lost

Friends walk away

Seems in this life

Nothing will stay

Alone

In silence

Able to just think

To sink

Downward

Into the pits of ominous clouds

Thoughts of a past screams out loud

People who loved you

Lied

None kept

All I can feel

Is completely inept

A fear that grips

A suffering so real

That all you have left

Is no way to feel

But alone~

~Perimeters~

Standoffish aloof
Not looking at you~

Perimeters~

Coordinates
Bubbles of glass with precise measures
Encasing
Protecting
Inviting Safety
Each equation
Etching the space
The fine area deemed just my space
Slowing building up walls
Curves edges and all
A saving grace …….before another…….yes again a setback, another fall
Drawing fine lines
Marking each point
Thoughts are layers, times frames~
The nexus holding the perimeters together
Wondering if you could ever……yes ever
Believe yet again in another
Even further still nothing is forever…….
Forever the same each second each moment bring about change
Bending each thought and molding each frame ~
Believing this time it will not be the same
But perimeters falter & twist & wind and morph like a darkness acting often unkind ~
Life is an altered course it unfolds into time a commodity given the day you were born but perimeters weaken
Coordinates torn ~
All the while strategy in progress to save what is left of the holes in my heart and pain in my chest~
Perimeters are guild lines I lacked for to long, but I learned this the hard way like any over played song
Boundaries blanket me safely from harm
I no longer lay upon your loved arm~
I no longer listen to your heart beat~
I no longer feel~
Perhaps I do feel a bit for another~
But time Will only put our coordinates together
Although I lack in certain knowledge in subjects not taught
I’ll still invade your mind I’ll still be in your heart
Can’t help what I know not what I feel but
Perimeters took those it was those it did steal~
I’m trying to self preserve trying to heal
My perimeters are unique & my numbers are mine
Circumference of my thoughts etched and in place I’ll think long and hard before I look upon another face~
So know if you ever tried to understand me or tried to break Through and let me let you in
My plan is to not feel this way yet again~
Still Plans often change lives rearranged
These measure are precise and I can carefully prepare to slice to dice the hurt and pain~
To continue this path
Retract & Refrain~

~In the Grey~It’s Where I’ll Stay~

I’m in the grey…….
Grey Chasm swallows
I’m in the grey it’s where I’ll stay for now
I will not attempt to move quickly
Nor will I be rushed
Do I fascinate?
Do I invoke fear? Hate?
Perfectly negate?
Am I your guilty pleasure…
Is there no distance yet to measure?
I’ll create my walls
Build my tower strong
Brick by brick no matter how long
Exterior crusted over with
Innuendos and regret
I’m in the grey
I will not be pulled away
In this Chasm I will stay
Until I decide, until that day
You can not reach me… There is no definitive here
No truth or lie
If I want to stay until I die
It’s then a matter of choice
The beauty of my grey instilled in me a voice
Slowly it drips…..spill forth from my lips
Turning my words to black and white
Finally to distinguish which is wrong and which is right
But I shall not take flight oh no, I will move slowly with precision
At the end of the day it’s my decision
For now I’m in the grey area
Safely in my tower, walls erected
While my thoughts become collective
Selective
In the grey

~Anguish~

Puddles form in the corner of eyes

Not like rain but like rivers that streak thy face

Tear salted river flows down thy neck

Does this show weakness?

Remorse?

Pain? Oh the pain…..

Dying with no description or experience

It knows not

How nails screech upon the chalkboard

Taking bits and pieces form thine heart

Anything that hurts slowly allows suffering

Oh the beautiful pitiful suffering

Rooms kept dark light hurts’ thine eyes

Another humans’ contact beyond the doors

Never

Sand paper scraping scars, salt being poured upon them

Far better to isolate

Words just jumble together not making sense

Like a gurgling utterance

Howling screams

Of God or Men

Careful now riding between the fence

Escaping as options

Depression, the depression labeled slow death

Likened unto art

Surgery without being anesthetized

Removing the human that was

Replacing it with an organism

Without enough depth

Leaving room only for the pollution and shit to seep from pores

Ahhh yes…. dig deeper still shall we?

Cutting the same spot over and over again

Thy limb falls to the ground

It will not grow back and cannot be replaced

As puddle and rivers tears streak down thy face

Not for reproduction~

IMG_0415.PNG

Puddles form in the corner of eyes

Not like rain but like rivers that streak the face

Tear salted river flows down the neck

Does this show weakness?

Remorse?

Pain? Oh the pain…..

Dying with no description or experience

It knows not

How nails screech upon the chalkboard

Taking bits and pieces form the heart

Anything that hurts slowly allows suffering

Oh the beautiful pitiful suffering

Rooms kept dark light hurts’ the eyes

Another humans’ contact beyond the doors

Never

Sand paper scraping scars, salt being poured upon them

Far better to isolate

Words just jumble together not making sense

Like a gurgling utterance

Howling screams

Of God or Men

Careful now riding between the fence

Escaping as options

Depression, the depression labeled slow death

Likened unto art

Surgery without being anesthetized

Removing the human that was

Replacing it with an organism

Without enough depth

Leaving room only for the pollution and shit to seep from pores

Ahhh yes…. dig deeper still shall we?

Cutting the same spot over and over again

That limb falls to the ground

It will not grow back and cannot be replaced

As puddle and rivers tears streak down the face

Not for reproduction~

IMG_0415.PNG

Puddles form in the corner of eyes

Not like rain but like rivers that streak the face

Tear salted river flows down the neck

Does this show weakness?

Remorse?

Pain? Oh the pain…..

Dying with no description or experience

It knows not

How nails screech upon the chalkboard

Taking bits and pieces form the heart

Anything that hurts slowly allows suffering

Oh the beautiful pitiful suffering

Rooms kept dark light hurts’ the eyes

Another humans’ contact beyond the doors

Never

Sand paper scraping scars, salt being poured upon them

Far better to isolate

Words just jumble together not making sense

Like a gurgling utterance

Howling screams

Of God or Men

Careful now riding between the fence

Escaping as options

Depression, the depression labeled slow death

Likened unto art

Surgery without being anesthetized

Removing the human that was

Replacing it with an organism

Without enough depth

Leaving room only for the pollution and shit to seep from pores

Ahhh yes…. dig deeper still shall we?

Cutting the same spot over and over again

That limb falls to the ground

It will not grow back and cannot be replaced

As puddle and rivers tears streak down the face

Not for reproduction~

~NJM~Can You Feel What I Feel? Let’s make it part of the deal~

I awake to your thoughts of me causing a restless longing I no longer care to touch or feel. I awake to you wanting to hear me, but I stay silent. I awake and remember how I wanted your love once at any cost. Now I’ve counted the cost it’s of no value to me.

I awake I feel your loss, your longing , I know because I lost you the day you rejected me, just took your rejection and mental abuse awhile for it to sink in. It has. In the words of the late great Kurt Cobain If you truly want me then…… Come as you are, as you were

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend

As an known enemy…take your time, hurry up, the choice is yours but don’t be late!

~Regret~

Ideological fanaticism The mirror holds the image so tight~

Unable to move out of ones sight~
Hourglass turns and sands starts to drain no longer can time contain~

Life sustain?
Reflections cracked and connection lost~

Guess no one decided to count the cost~
Detached and subdued, Drained, by the need~

All that they long for festers in greed~
How your heart full of art, Beautifully broken will bleed~

While I write these words, You read~in your mind It is I that plants the seeds~
Defining sounds consume all space~The shadows grow larger in this place~Yet disappearing without a trace ~
Grips that shackle the freedom once given~the strength of youth lost to time~Now live on your life walk the fine line~
We swallow their lies~Yet long for truth~
But all is lost, Especially our youth~
By the time you think you arrived~Your life event you barely survived~Often you wish that you just died~
All gone to another not each other~Surely push away forget together~
One day you look back and all that you see were words written …….Scribbles that rhyme but that’s ok fool yourself all is just fine~
Fine you say dear oh Darlin ~Lend me your ear~
When I speak these words, I invoke fear~
So run to your shadows~Hide away fast~
No matter what, I always last~
Rise as I watch you wither away, Longing to late now~How you wish I would stay~
Live now with your choice~Till your dying day~
Regret , remorse spinning the web~
Tears flow down your face onto your pillow then onto your bed~
When your alone you think of me~How we could have been, Let’s others see~
Yet you let me go again, You set me free~
Still you will come again and again~Just wait you’ll see~