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Paper Cuts…#poem#poetry

This weeks #poem#poetry is a bit of a long one, again chosen by the class.

Paper Cuts

You want the control,
come and then hit me.
You want the submission,
come and then beat me.
You wanted my fear,
come and then kick me.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Time stoped the bleeding.
Scrapes stopped the stinging.
And bruises would fade,
where boot contact made.

But it’s just paper cuts.

First I was distraught,
Each time I was caught.
But I became numb,
for beating to come.

But it’s just paper cuts.

My running day ends,
from you and your friends.
When turning from flight,
and starting to fight.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Along with the pains,
then came the names.
Not delivered with wit,
but hatred and spit.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Name callings public,
your put on display.
Teachers they join in,
with things that they say.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Children start chanting,
the things that all say.
Twisted, contorted,
by end of the day.

But it’s just paper cuts.

My head it would rattle,
when I dared to tattle.
Was told it not matter,
what children did natter.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Name callings harmless,
the banter just fun.
Snowflakes are harmless,
unless by the ton.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Some wording distorted,
and used to control.
changing their meaning,
destroying their soul.

But it’s just paper cuts.

You alter the tone,
it carries a threat,
Misheard the meaning,
“cause I am upset”?

But it’s just paper cuts.

World seams so slanted,
I’m put in my place.
Can it be better?
depends on your face.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Your words the damage,
numerous in time.
wounding is mental,
paper cuts, so fine.

But it’s just paper cuts.

One cut is painful,
more than its size.
When you have several,
the pain it will rise.

But it’s just paper cuts.

Cuts that your words leave,
slice into, my soul.
Never quite healing,
there taking their toll.

But it’s just paper cuts.

You keep on slicing,
it’s day after day.
never quite seeing,
what others, will say.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

You weakened my strength,
you’ve taken my hope.
Then it’s all my fault,
I “just conna cope”.

Because it’s just paper cuts.

Not the one hurting,
and feeling the pain.
You can’t conceive it,
the pain in a name.

Because it is just paper cuts.

Inwards it’s turmoil,
viewed outwards as “shy”.
What was expected?
You cut me, I cry!

It’s not just paper cuts!

Bosses, no different,
their stature to prove.
Skilful word twisting,
their ego’s improve.

It’s never just, paper cuts.

Doubt plants a small stone,
in every new cut.
Open wound festers,
as cannot it shut.

It comes with the paper cuts.

Now socially awkward,
not clever with speech.
Your cuttings have taught
me “what I can reach”.

I feel alone with the paper cuts.

I’m now in training,
defending myself.
I have new skillsets,
improving my health.

Enough with the paper cuts!

I will not listen,
and travel your way.
If you don’t like it,
you don’t have to stay.

I’m stopping your paper cuts!

Paper cuts it’s never been,
just one on its own.
Your words of wounding,
are yours now to own.

You get to own your paper cuts.

Used them unknowingly,
in words that I use.
I should know better than,
poke fun and abuse.

I get to own my paper cuts.

What I’m now learning,
as child should be taught.
Socially skilful,
the bully to thwart.

Eradicate the paper cuts.

Now time to end them,
there’s no room for buts.
With skills will defeat
them, end paper cuts!

A § M
19/6/2017

Poetry…What I See

What I See

Eleven o’clock, the toilet run,
Spots last chance, before morning sun.
I saw a star, that shone bright,
between two trees, as black as night.

As I gazed, upon that star,
something changed, though not that far,
Twas not the mouse, nor the rat,
this was huge, compared to that.

The trees they grew, before my eyes,
their blackness swelled, in moonlit skies.
I looked away, and then looked back,
and once again, the trees grew black.

What I saw, I used to fear,
hide away, and shed a tear.
Not always sight, but sometimes sound,
would have me running, homeward bound.

An open door, a prison cell,
within my head, my own hell.
Spot I had, as my guide,
past the door, to step outside.

Illusions at times, I will be given,
It’s not a curse, and sure not heaven.
I can see things, others cannot,
at first I thought, I’d lost the plot.

But now I wonder, what they mean,
what messages lie, in what I’ve seen.
My mind a lesson, it tries to teach,
the answer, alas, I’ve yet to reach.

The destination,

Unknown,

It lies ahead.

Another day,

Not now,

I’m off to bed!

A § M
14/6/2017

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/writing

Reflections…Week Twenty two

canstockphoto8630797A week of uncertainty, a week of determination.

For nearly three weeks part of my medication has been unavailable, completely ending my dose just shy of a fortnight ago. No weening off, just a sudden stop, ended, and as it is the only one in its class, no alternative.

Luckily, I have had no side effects, BUT, and it is a big but – after multiple failures to obtain the medication it took a week , due to one thing and another, to find out if I was at risk of harm from the sudden stop and what my options were.

Not the risk of harm as in suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, the usual bag of side effects. No the question was more of physical, I have been on this medication for years and my body chemistry would have adapted, to a degree, at receiving it daily.

The staff at the groups I use have been kept aware of what has been happening and helping where they can, so I have good, knowledgeable, organisations as backup should things start going wrong. Family are also available, so two safety nets as it were. But it is the group staff that have had the most concern, they have seen people ‘go off’ their meds, and the results are not usually pretty.

If I was at the stage that my belief in the medication is the source of my healing, I would have been worried, but since being on the medications my health as a whole has decreased, co-incidental?

When you go onto medication and you show side effects that the doctors doctors don’t see as problematic, weight gain, brain fog, heck, even my illusions were classed as a side effect by one doc, the usual “it’ll go away in time” becomes the standard reply. This is, I believe, because you cannot test for side effects, so how do you prove/disprove they exist in a patient? My sudden development of a twitch and stammer could not be found in a book, not in patients over the age of 16ish, so that too got the “it’ll go away eventually” line.

Add in the factor of ones improvement due to therapies, that also has no test for it, you have two variables of ones health that do not fit into the equation. The drugs get all the praise and none of the blame, does this really help the patient?

There are reports by some doctors in America, including at least one Psychiatrist, that say the drugs are not the answer, and a homeopathic approach is better for the patient long term. Now I don’t know if that is true or not, since there is no profitability by the drug companies, there have been limited studies on it, but I don’t know why it isn’t available alongside as part of the treatment, possible side effects – better health, better diet, shorter amount of time on the medication, therefore less exposure to the common side effects of suicide, suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety…

One goes to a weekly group that, for want of a better term, does life learning. Which is to say ones life choices, usually influenced at an early age, are questioned and alternative thought patterns are offered. The idea is simple, identify negative traits, identify why they are there, explore alternatives, implement small changes, find oneself and become oneself. Sometimes we are shaped, including our reactions, from outside sources, to a point we become less us and more what is expected to ‘be’.

Yes I am aware I speak as one and as multiple, this can also be a side effect of the shaping, segments of ones personality can get segregated.

Side note  pomegranate/pear/raspberry juice with spirulina and green superblend powders…yuck…eugh…nasty!

I believe I have been lucky in experiencing no side effects (to present), and I would not recommend stopping medication to anyone, but I would recommend you going to as many free therapies/groups/courses as you possibly can that are available in your area. The amount of courses/groups I have gone to is the reason I don’t fear coming off the medication, even as a trail, how else can it be proven if it was the  drug or whether it was changes made during my stay at the mental hospital responsible for the improvement of my mental state and whether the drug has been ‘working’ these past years?

In the West Midlands there are groups like Brighter futures, Echo, Mind, Healthy Minds and Changes, these are the ones I know about but not all of them, they are free and recognised Mental Health groups.

If a series of events and responses in the past are responsible for present, then is it not a good thing to learn to change the responses in order for the future be different than the present?

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

 

Reflections…Week Eighteen

canstockphoto8630797I once had to dump my motorbike and jump into the side of an Artic Lorry Cab, leaving a dent in the cab door and wrapping my tobacco tin around my thigh where it hit the cab wheel. I was bruised and I ached the next day but I went back to my very manual job. Just another day, just another bruise. It was a walk away, though for the motorbike it was the end, that went under the wheel – and then under it a second time as he reversed back over it to see what he had hit.

I’m older now, not so able to just shake off the knocks, but I manage. What I find difficult is the days I wake up with every muscle aching for no reason, my head swimming like it is the morning after the night before, including the hissss – sunlight – shut the curtains and block it out, and the brain fog.  Yesterday was bad, I hardly moved out of my darkened room, my head in limbo from one thought to the next, even prompting by spot didn’t get me out of the house.  It took most of today to work up the momentum to do it, sometimes going outside is like walking against a strong wind, but only you feel it, and until you do, you don’t really understand how difficult it is.

Spot has been a godsend in my recovery, she knows when I am dipping, she plays the fool more elaborately to cheer me up, in her mind it works because I take steps to divert it when I can, she is my early warning system when I don’t wake with it in place. She will prompt me for going out, to the point of anoyance, and a simple day out for a walk with her is something to aim for .

And she gives good cuddles without asking.

But even with Spot in place the constant pain is starting to wear me down, I have support in place, but I just want to know what is happening and why my feet feel like someone is trying to rip them apart. These are the worst parts and at the same time these are the ‘worst’ parts.

They hurt the most and they hinder the most, I cannot remember a time without some sort of pain in them now. I hate being given ‘advice’, the meaning well’ness is there, but if it aggravates whatever it is, I suffer the next day maybe two. An exercise for one complaint can be torture for another. That is why I am waiting for an answer from the doctors before I start anything new, heck even they have offered no exercises to do that I am not already doing.

Its been two and a half years now and though I have a few “it’s not” statements the path has run its course and i am being signed off, so I have to start right back at the beginning because I was sent the wrong way. Not that I was expecting much from Neuro, they admitted that my stammer/stutter and twitch, which appeared out of the blue five years ago, was neurological but they did not know why, off I was sent to ‘receive help’ to accept this new feature, job done. But never have I been treated like I was dog  dirt on a shoe for being there, on another doctors referral, and wasting his time before.

All I want is an answer to the question….”Whats up doc?”

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

 

The Notebook

canstockphoto8630797It felt strange carrying it around at first, then I made a change, which felt random, but now I feel much more comfortable about it.

It is not a notebook for shopping items, nor appointments, it was, at the start, a reflective diary, but now it’s mainly for ideas that seem to get lost from the moment I have them – to when I reach a place to write them down. Those brilliant, wonderful, exciting, fantastic ideas that would propell a story line or enchant a blog reader.

Alas those ideas have gone, the notebook had them running for the hills, running so not to be captured. They run well! But one is persistent

I saw things at the supermarket, perceptions of reality or glimpses of alternate states,when on my exposure therapy, sitting waiting for the others to finish shopping, I grabbed my notebook and put pen to paper, to capture the moment. Suddenly and without warning people looked my way, I could feel my face warming as the blood began to add scarlet blusher to my cheeks. More looked on, more blood pumped to the cheeks, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar I sheepishly closed the notepad and placed it into my bag.  My shamefull glow took a long time to dissipate, even with eyes cast down to the ground.

A different supermarket, a different response, although the other chap sitting on the bench with me kept looking over at my spiders scrawl. One has different writing styles – dependant on the situation, from scrawl to calligraphy. When embarrassed…my writing could rival that of a Doctors scrawl.

There is no way he could read what was being written, but try he did, his attempts were not even that subtle. Almost as though giving up, he picked up his persciption bag, leaned onto his wooden stick and joined his wife as she trundled away from the checkout. I watched as my inquisitive stranger left the store before returning to my notepad once more.

With nobody paying attention an idea formed in my head of ‘could I?’

Could I?

  • Pick an idea from what I see to write a blog?
  • Pick any idea?
  • Any subject?
  • What about…

I picked that subject and started writing, I wrote a couple of pages, then on the next trip at the other supermarket I wrote some more, next trip was the same. At six pages I thought – there is enough here to easily write a blog, a long one at that, but is there enough to be the backbone for a short story? I haven’t written a short story since school, even then they were more the middle of a longer one; according to Miss Ross. I have had no desire to write a short story, so have no idea as to why that thought came to be. Is there a writing infection one can catch?

That is why I have left the ‘subject’ a mystery.  If the story does not work out at least I will have a blog post without announcing the story was a bust at my fingertips, only to see the idea materialise on someone else’s post.

The notebook now also contains an idea for a children’s book, Park notes and blog ideas.

I now miss it when it is not in my bag, my phone has ideas for blogposts on it, but it is not the same as pen on paper; and one loves ones tech,

Now when an idea pops in for a visit I have no care as to what it is I am doing, or where it is been done. Out comes the pad and pen to capture the moment for later apraisle.

One has found a way to practice mindfulness in places that cause most anxiety to such a point my surroundings become only the story one writes.

https://www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/the-blogs

Reflections…Week Fourteen

canstockphoto8630797This week after over two years, I went public with my writing.

Strange when you view it as going public, with those whom you have a private relationship, rather than the strangers on WordPress, with whom you have shared ones journey since the start.

Pride, that would be the reason, if I am honest, as to why it has taken so long to announce it to the people I know. Not the ‘pride comes before a fall’ pride. But rather the pride that you know you have improved and the goals set by yourself to reach – have been reached. The ‘I have accomplished’ pride.

The kind when a picture of a sheep made with crape paper, macaroni and cotton wool is done by a child. The innocent kind of pride, it was done for nothing but the pleasure of the doing.

Well, It’s not that simple. That would be toooo easy a wall for me to climb, lets just keep adding another layer on top, just too make sure its remains daunting.

So the writing was the start, get more comfortable at doing it, get to the point I don’t feel embarrassed about it. I am still going to see if my English is up to grade and retake my exam if necessary. Then it was do my own website, I personally don’t like the way my blogs are filed on my profile, I wanted it ‘just my way’. So if I am going to the trouble of creating a website, should I not own my own domain name? Then it was, if I have my own website would it not be practical to have my artwork there as well? What good can I do with the site? Then, how is it going to get promoted? Make a Page on Facebook, link them all together…..

The blogging became overshadowed as the secret to let out.

Somewhere along the line was a change. A change so subtle I did not see it.

I stopped putting extra layers on the wall, and before I knew it I was sitting on top of it, looking around.

Sure I could polish this bit and that bit, but as it is a growing web site this will happen naturally over time.

It still amazes me when I look at where my blogs have been read around the world, that little old me, has touched the hearts of strangers, in far off lands.

But the last to know have been the ones within 20 miles of where I live.

I probably even managed to surprise the person to whom I owe the journeys start, Anika.

I just kinda announced it out of nowhere, in a kind of – big intro – way, to the unveiling of the website and my blogging.

I even made it colourful to stand out.

Thank you for your unknown inspiration.

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

Reflections…Week Thirteen

IMG_0167Positivity section bellow the intro.

This week has seen a bit of a flurry on the blogging side; even as I write this it somehow still feels surreal.

I have just seen my blog on another website, not on the WordPress site I had the invite from but a different website. I am not disappointed my work ended up there, more surprised it had over 30 likes in two days, so for me it is great exposure, it’s one of those sites Facebook sends me to on clickbait.

If you had asked me at the very tentative beginning of my blogging if I thought I would be asked to guest write on another site, I would have thought you strange at best. I honestly thought it would end up like all journalling to that point… Short lived. Especially as there was no enthusiastic charge unto the breach.

Now my ego has had a massage, a shoulder rub of sorts, the kind that says – “it’s worth it.”

I still don’t know in which direction writing is going to take me, but I do know I can connect, even a few at a time, through it. And if that message is one of positivity, a positivity that can have a change effect, even by accident, is it not then worth pursuing?

Here is such an attempt.

Try this out when you walk, it will surprise you how  effective it is, well it surprised me.

From now on, no matter how sh***y you feel, no matter what the weather,  no matter how tired you are or how alone you want to be, headphones on or off, big dog, little dog, Black dog. I know the feelings of wanting to be alone and the effort it will take to do this, I started at two, I also know that the excuses will come easily, if you let them.

Pick a time or place to do this that has the least negative emotional impact on you, doubly hard if just getting outside the door is a monumental task, such as a dog walk route you regularly take or the little diversion on your walk home from work, your weekly walk around the park even. You may have noticed I walk, Spot, my ever faithful Jack Russel, has kept me going outside, out of the door, for most days; but I need the open space to do this technique. Adapt it to suit your way.

For those of us that wear a mask, this will sound all too familiar and will almost be ‘second’ nature, but will have a different outcome than the usual dance.

Practice your smile because a good looking smile is key, even if it FAKE!

As I stated earlier I started with two for the first week, after this I challenged myself to Three. I am now on seven, yes I know it’s anal to keep count at this point but it’s what I do.

Smile to the chosen number of people each day, on a dog walk this should be relatively easy. Look them around the eyes and Smile, the best smile you can do, and say a greeting, whichever you feel comfortable with. You don’t have to stop and talk, heck you don’t even have to slow down. They don’t need to hear you, so headphones are not a barrier and they don’t have to make eye contact back, so no staring!

You will get some odd looks to start, this takes time to take effect, but eventually you will get a repeat pattern of people who see you smile. If you live in an over crowded area, pick out stall people, you don’t even have to shop, just make it easier on yourself to do this.

Here’s the science:-

When you smile within a certain group of people, other dog walkers for instance, you will get noticed because of it, especially when a pattern  starts to take place. The greeting is an added bonus. As people start to recognise you as the person who gives them a smile, they don’t know if it is real or not but its natural to believe it is, they will start to smile back. This way on your journey you have strangers that smile when they see you, take it on face value it is genuine, it will have a tendency for both of you to genuinely smile in time anyway, so why not start with that belief.

Now this is where it gets interesting. Your smile has a great probability of having the person smiled at, smiling to at least the next person they walk past. So if you have chosen three as the number to smile at, and each of them has the chance to smile at a minimum of one other, on your chosen route, that means six have been smiled at because of you!  If they smile at one it’s nine. You may even cheer someone up who needs a ‘friendly face’, even a strangers on a street.

Smiling is infectious apparently and we subconsciously like places that are ‘friendly’. The chain effect of people smiling at one another makes for that  friendly place, this in turn draws the same people back and they in turn catch the smiling bug. Without conscious thought those smiles turn to genuine ones.

Try something that seems to have been forgotten, something free, something that can improve your mental health as a by-product.

SMILE 🙂

Be radical!

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017