life, mental health, mental illness, mindfulness, poetry, spoken word

Black and White Thinking

Black and white thinking

is simple and rigid

Stale and predictable

Solid and stagnant

It does not allow 

for exceptions and alterations

changes mid stream

Doors that may open

right in front 

of eyes

that have blinders on

Black and white thinking

keeps out the possibilities

that we may be wrong

in the very place

where we need to see something new

Black and white thinking

keeps to the outside edge

Ignores the middle

where the colors flourish

 twirl and blend

and create possibilities

anxiety, depression, life, mental abuse, mental health, mental health blog, mental illness, mental illness blog, poem, poetry, ptsd, spoken word

Amazing Spoken Word Poetry by a Young YouTube Poet Allen Minor

I came across an excellent young poet, who has videos on YouTube about feelings and thoughts from the inside of mental illness.  These poems are by Allen Minor. He has a YouTube Channel with his spoken word poetry.

Allen is reaching out to other people through his wonderful poetry. He desires to validate and comfort the ones suffering from depression and anxiety that may be reached by his words.

Young people like teenagers are more easily reached by someone their own age. I think that young creative people that reach out to their peers, are very important and will be helpful to our young people who are suffering depression and other mental disorders.

This one is about social anxiety and anxiety disorder in general. I could totally relate to the feelings in this and his reading of the poetry is great. His words about the poem are “A poem entitled Unreliable about social anxiety and social responsibility”

He talks about the difficulties keeping up with social obligations with friends due to his anxiety disorder. Many of us can relate to words and feelings in this one.

This next poem is from the inside of the mind of depression. It has a story telling style, which is very interesting. Check it out.

Allen’s words about this poem “A more somber poem called Speak Fast about mental health (possible TRIGGER WARNING)”

This one is an anti-bullying poem. The reading and the poetry is excellent. He wrote this one for Pink Shirt day, which was the anti-bullying day.

This next one is about writing and what it feels like to be a writer with mental illness and an past that has caused mental suffering.

This final poem is one of my favorites. It has a beautiful spark of hope. It speaks of the magical perspective of childhood and how we tend to lose that viewpoint as adults, as we et caught up in the worries and stresses of adult life. He lets us know that we can still have magic and wonderment in our lives, even thought we have grown up.

domestic abuse, domestic violence, inspirational, mental abuse, mental health, spoken word, spoken word poetry

Take a Step

Follow the path before you. Take a step forward. Be mindful of your wounds, but step ahead anyway. There are unseen adventures awaiting you. There are worthy people to meet.

Treat yourself with the same kindness and understanding that you treat others with. Listen to yourself. Follow your dreams. Learn from your mistakes.

Remove or limit interaction with toxic people. Invite healthy, compassionate people to surround you. Let the universe know that you accept all good things to happen to you. Invite strength and individuality to become a part of yourself.

Be unique. never blindly follow others. Think for yourself.

You are stronger than you think. There is more time than you think. Time to do all the things you need to do. Time to fulfill your dreams.

Success  begins with dreams of the heart. Compassion begins with thoughtfulness of others.

Accept yourself as you are right at this very moment. It is good enough. Continue to grow and to be open to new ideas. You have a right to make mistakes and not feel shame.

Take a step forward. Take a step out. Take a step up.

You never know where you will end up!

buddhism, compassion, inspirational, life, love, meditation, mental health, poem, poetry, relationships, religion, spoken word, spoken word poetry

Value Each Moment With People You Choose

Focus on the person right in front of you

Pay attention to the things that they say

Discover who they are and how they feel

Decide if your time is worth spending with them

Be decisive and clear with yourself

If you decide to be with them

Then give them this moment of your time

Value the moment to the full extent that you can

Learn more about them and see what they see

Find something in common to connect on

Learn how they are similar and struggle the same

Validate them so they are not alone

Learn what is different about their life than yours

Add this learning into your scope of understanding

Every person you choose to connect with

Can open yours eyes to new ways

To view the world as they see it

Each person you spend a moment with

Can give you a great gift of a new perspective

That may enlighten your soul and invigorate your mind

It is like reading a book and seeing what the characters see

Experiencing the world from the character’s point of view

Everyone has a different story and a view that’s unique

You can add little pieces of them to yourself

The more you really listen and are open to learn…

the more you will gain for yourself

New knowledge and new ways of seeing things

Every moment has potential for new possibilities

If you hold the moments dear to your heart

depression, life, mental health, mental illness, poem, poetry, relationships, spoken word, spoken word poetry

Thief ….Sound recording of my Poem about domestic mental abuse and violence

Thief

This is the link to my recording of my poem Thief

You stole my mind

Just for a time

The things you did

Should be a crime

You tore me down

You crushed my soul

You tortured my brain

With the lies you told

You twisted truth

Till I could not tell

What was up

 what was down

What was normal

What was hell

It lingers still

In the dark of the night

In the edges of my brain

Where you planted your dark light

The doubts of myself

The fear of new pain

There are parts that you broke

In my poor injured brain

I am glad that I left

I wish that you were really gone

But you’re still in my mind

When the lights

Are not on

life, poem, poetry, spoken word, spoken word poetry

Drones

Why do they target me,

Because I am different?

I am trying to make a difference

I am trying to create magic

To try something new

To make things  better

To change the

Same old,

Same old ways

that are…

static

inflexible

uncreative

I want to light up

The eyes and the hearts

Of the ones who are suffering

They need a new start

But

the drones

feel so threatened

They reject anything new,

Creative,

Innovative

They want to hush me

Put me in the corner

Threaten me

punish me

scold me

humiliate me

Because

I can’t conform

To the ways

that are

Boring !

Boring!

Lacking spark

I can’t make magic

I can’t make art

Not around them

No, not around them

They don’t like that I’m different

And try to innovate

They just want…

boring drones

boring drones

that repeat

that repeat

regurgitate

regurgitate

and reenact

The same old,

same old play

With the same old,

Same old lines

Drones who

do the minimum…

Just slide by

Collect their pay

That’s the conformist way

Watch what you wear

and watch what you say

It must match their

Damn  formula

Etched in stone

As if it were

The ten commandments

Brought down by Moses

Follow the social laws

Repeat and review them

Don’t try to add to them

Or subtract

what is…

Obsolete

Incorrect

Inhumane

What is most important

to them

Is that

We are all the same

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

health, life, mental health, mental illness, religion, self-help, spiritual, spoken word

Abnormality is defined as a deviation from the accepted thoughts, emotions and behaviour

Abnormality is defined as a deviation from the accepted thoughts, emotions and behaviour

What is  ‘normal’ ? It is  an invented idea related to conformity.

Conformity to the status quo and the manners and behaviors that the vast majority are comfortable with. Saying “fine” when someone asks how you are, is the accepted behavior.

Following the rules at a workplace,  even when there is an obvious , glaring exception to the rule, staring you in the face.

Going along with our plans and our schedules like drones , without thinking about what we are doing. That is the status quo. That is conformity.That is a lack of creativity and individuality.

When people all follow what someone else thinks, no one thinks at all. Who is making the social norms? The people at the top who are benefitting from it. All the drones underneath have the impression that they are the ones that benefit but it is not true.

Loss  of humanity and individual thinking. Taking each individual situation for what it is and thinking and and making and intelligent , thoughtful plan of action. This is all lost in the confusion and the illusion or orderliness.

People have the impression that the status quo rules are neat and orderly. They think that they like the rules ans that the Normal accepted behaviors and reactions are going to keep them safe and protect them.

if this is true, then why is suicide on the rise and mental illness more and more prevalent in society?

Maybe mental illness is caused by the infliction of an untrue reality upon independent thinkers. The forcing of a reality that someone created and is telling us is safe. But when we see that it is not true and it is unsafe for us, we are seen as abnormal people. The ones who do not fit in.

This results in isolation and alienation. We can see what the reality is. But they tell us we are not conforming to their thoughts and their reality.

People that have survived, or their children have survived sexual abuse, are expected to attend holiday functions with the offending family members. They are expected to sit there are pretend nothing ever happened. Ot to pretend that the abuser is rehabilitated and no longer a threat.

Women living with abusive men are told that things are not as bad as they think. People think they are exaggerating and the “poor guy” is just venting from a hard day.You should be thankful that he works so hard to support you. How do they know how the guy is supporting you? They don’t even know if he shares any of his money with you. Why do they assume?

Even family members sometimes support the abuser and treat the victim as though she is in some alternate abnormal reality. You have to be a better wife, a better girlfriend. Maybe he would be a better man if you were more supportive. It must be you… Crap! Crap! BS!

I have always been supportive in relationships. Begging someone not to leave you and a child with no money in the bank account and no food in the fridge, so they can go to live in another state with friends to “find themselves” and their “Purpose” and a job, is crap. Why should you suffer with no food and no money, to be supportive of someone who does not want to work. Someone who leaves you stuck with his parents, because he can’t stand living with them anymore.

When our feelings do not match what the others tell us to feel, we become mentally ill. Our brain suffers because it tries to hold onto the actual reality while other people are messing with it.

life, mental illness, poem, poetry, spoken word

Don’t Apologize… Too Little, Too Late

Tip your hat

Say goodbye!

Don’t apologize

The time has past

It’s not enough

It will not last

Don’t dare ask why

Just move your feet

I will not cry

Not in front of you

It just might stop you…

Like in the past

But not again

I am finally done

You’ve done your damage

You’ve had your fun

Just keep going

On your way

Don’t look back!

I won’t be here

Not this time

Not again

Now, take your things

Take my things

I don’t care about them

Take all this  stuff!

Just leave me my heart

And leave me my mind

Whatever is left

Don’t take your time

Just keep moving

I am not changing my mind

There’s not much left of it

After what you’ve done 

But I will recover

In spite of you

Just keep walking

I’ll see myself through!

dark short story, free form poetry, horror, mental disorders, mental health, mental health disorders, mental illness, poetry, post traumatic stress disorder, psychology, schitzophrenia, spoken word, suicidal ideations, suicidal thoughts, suicude

Excerpt from – Julianna’s Mental Prison – Short Story by Annie

“It is a truly terrifying thing, watching someone completely break from reality. Watching and listening helplessly as they cross over into a place of complete and utter darkness.

A place so terrifying that the best horror movies just barely scratch the surface,” Roshelle trailed off and stared at her shoes.

Then she continued with emphasis, “To allow someone to bring you inside of their violent, dark, twisted and terrifying delusions is a dangerous mistake.”

“It would be a mistake for anyone. But for someone gifted with compassion and empathy like Julianna, it was a deadly mistake. Terrifying beyond the worst thoughts, the worst nightmares, the worst fears you could possibly imagine.

So terrifying that she used to groan in the middle of the night. Not a normal human groaning but a animal-like howling, sounding from very pits of primal fear. The hellish utterances of complete mental anguish.” Roshelle shivered a little and pulled her knitted wrap  up around her shoulders.

Bruce sat in silence for a few minutes and found himself buttoning up the last few buttons on his overcoat. Finally he stammered, “Poor Julianna. She suffered unfairly.”

Roshelle forgave him for his lack of being able to verbally express his horror at her vivid description of Julianna’s anguish. It was simply unfathomable that Julianna could have endured such suffering and torment for so many years.