Hi, there. Thanks for visiting. I'm starting this blog as an advocate for mental and physical health. I'm a freelance writer and also own a home based medical transcription business. I was diagnosed in 1978 with paranoid schizophrenia and started to become acutely ill three years prior to that, unmedicated, frightened, confused, and in trouble with the law. I graduated from university with distinction the year I became ill. I've never regretted learning how to think at university. I struggled with my illness for 35 years and have reached the top of the mountain now, I think, or the other side, where the grass is greener and the path easier. There's hope for all of us, the whole human race, and never think there isn't hope or joy no matter your circumstances. I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences with mental illness in all its forms: depression, brain injury, autism, schizophrenia, bipolar, anxiety disorders, etc. and your positive experiences as well as those lies and half truths society and even therapists would have us believe about ourselves.

We are different folks, and we are beautiful. The whole human race is beautiful. Let's celebrate life.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

More Poetry for the Sad Mind

I wrote the first poem when I first became ill in 1975 or thereabouts, and the second only recently. You see, it took me about 37 years to become well. Now I'm starting all over again but in the future not the past. It's a new beginning and anyone can have a new beginning every day, but not everyone is as lucky as those of us who are the third of SZ who respond to treatment and become well. There are others who do not and I don't want to downplay their anguish and the impossibility perhaps of becoming more than they can become, as it may not be possible for them. Humbly I say, let's start over, and the families and friends of those who suffer, whether it be from depression, bipolar, SZ, anxiety disorder, OCD or brain damage, realize that their loved ones are not the person they once were and appear not to respond. It's important not to over protect our loved ones, but to let them know we're there to listen and help as far as we can if they ask us or need us. Somewhere in our brains there's a great collective recognition of love.

The Metal Foot
Take me not from gritty noon and silver shores, of innocence a footprint
In the sand.
For I follow, crippled, and my leg is bound with wire.
It sings, in agony, it blazes
In the sun.
For I follow, to the metal edge of day.

I see others, past the breakers,
And they seem to ride the wind
They come foaming from the ocean
But are gone before I turn.
(My foot is cramped and tender
But their song is not of pain).

Leave me to the brine and little boat; I will follow with my eyes
Though my heart is like an arrow
As you go.
For though I hobble, crippled, to the burning rim of Time
It would still be only half my journey done.
Take me not, therefore, from innocence (a footprint
In the sand)
For I follow, crippled, and my leg is bound with wire.
It sings, in agony, it blazes
To the metal edge of day.

The Metal Foot #2
The wire was twisted metal
But my leg has healed its sore
Like a boot of steel and plaster
Till my feet can touch the floor.

And the wind is running with me
While the scent of flowers play
With my friends who ride the breakers
With our faces bright with spray.

For this best of running coolness
And this newness angels put
I am flying I am singing
Through the metal cloven foot.

For my face is bright and yearning
And my legs are strong and brown
I run PAST those ghostly lovers,
High where the surf has blown.

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