I wrote this poem in 2001 during a hospital admission. It very much highlights the hurt and despair I was feeling at the time of my admission, but then at the end describes my hope when I could see some light at the end of tunnel, as well as the fact that the recovery was coming from within myself.
Cry for help
I cry for help but nobody hears, can't go on much longer I'm running out of tears
Everyday is exactly the same, are we playing an awful game?
Why can't you help me? Why can't you reduce the pain?
I can't even remember anyone's name
Why am I like this? Help me somehow, take all my pain make it go away
Tell me you'll cure me by a certain day
Let me cry on your shoulder, hold out your hand
How can you help me? You don't understand!
I'll listen and take in all that you say, but please don't expect me to take hurt away
Losing my identity bit by bit, sinking further and further into the pit
Only halfway down, there is still a little hope
But why can't you help me? I cannot cope!
I'll help you discover your own hidden strength
We'll discuss all your problems and worries at length
It is you who is hurting, it is you who knows why
You have the answers to your questions, not I
I'll guide and advise you and support you right through
But it is you who has all the work to do
At times you will feel like you can't carry on
Life is too difficult and happiness gone
I'll praise and encourage and urge you along
Until you say "I don't need you because I am strong"
And when that day comes, you regain your health
Please do not thank me, you did it yourself
As I sat in a room
About the uncertainties
I imagined my mind
Like a room
With two doors.
A tide of fears
Entering the room of
Through one door.
Then, without letting
To take roots
In the soil
Of my mind,
I watched them
The Second door.
You are a ceaseless news feed
about the state of our inner and outer world,
about electrical and chemical
signals of our bodies.
Triggered by our senses of sight,
touch, hearing, smell and taste;
You are moulded by our Amygdala;
Filling days and nights with motley colours.
You are an armour of our survival
during the battles and dangers of life;
Dyeing our memories to remember people and events;
Enriching or Impoverishing every interaction.
You are the ecstasy of our happiness,
The despair of our blues,
Fire of our jealousy and anger,
Gnawing pain of shame, guilt,
Worthlessness and loneliness,
Balminess of sympathy and forgiveness.
You are the honey of our daily strife
And vapour of bitterness filling our life.
When aquamarine skies look grey to our eyes
The golden rays of sunlight disappear from the skies
The stars no longer adorn the heavens or shine bright
The silver moon looks like a phantom of the night.
When we feel imprisoned in a dark place
Sorrowful eyes stare into a cold empty space
Dazzling beauty looks like an old wrinkled face
Oblivious of the loved ones; their beauty and grace.
When we feel abandoned by the angel of sleep
Soul is drained and our eyes eager to weep.
When our favourite food loses all its allure
Foggy brain cannot concentrate anymore.
When our mind tricks us to believe we are worthless
All consolations about the future seem fruitless.
When our heart is eaten by guilt over the trivialness
Soul is overwhelmed by stabbing hopelessness.
When our mind ruminates about the days of yore
Life seems devoid of vigour, shine and decor.
When reassurance fails to dampen our agitation
And optimism is replaced by suicidal ideation.
Remember when we are in such a dark place of despair
It is a common ailment called Depression. Beware,
It is a transitory phase rather than an everlasting snare
And help is available from the experts who care.
The Beautiful Space-