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Talking about anger turned inward, grief and voices

Those who have read some of my blog, will recognise I do carry a fair whack of anger about certain issues relevant to the mental health system as it currently is. I put all that aside, when I think about love, when I listen to another’s poetry, and, when I’m at work.

                There are definite systems that allow us to exist, while getting us to focus on building things like recovery, hope for the future, alternatives, as well as established, recognised workable therapies. My work place fits well with my ideology, my training as a Transpersonal Art Therapist and also makes my writing and editing diploma relevant. It also makes me think beyond the wrecking-ball, towards building. It is a workplace, that I’m very happy to be in. One of the few work places that see my lived-experience as a skill and insight, rather than a problem.

                I’m delivering a talk, with a colleague, on: Anger turned inward, grief and voices. This topic is something I’ve been working on since January, but have thought a lot about before.

A memoir of mine, Naked ladies, looks at how grief and anger denied and suppressed can lead to voices and unusual belief systems that end up with hospitalisations and psychiatric labels. It also shows how anger and grief can be intertwined. I have, developed my ideas a lot further, though, since writing this action based memoir. I also have a lot better coping strategies.

I’ll mostly be talking about established ways of coping and paradigms of thinking towards being all you're meant to be. There is a lot new material, but it’s not something I’ve done on my own, it’s something I’ve developed alongside many others who have similar experiences. This talk is relevant to health professionals, social workers, carers, as well as voice-hearers and those who want to understand unusual percipience, their own thoughts, theories of mind etc

Bookings are essential and can be made HERE on the Voices Vic website. The talk will be an all day session, held on Wednesday 24th of July 2013 at 211 Chapel Street, Prahran.

Protecting normal people like you, from people like me...

Activist poetry doesn't always have a place in the Melbourne poetry scene, particularly if you're talking psychiatric abuse. The audience tend to not listen and hear anger only. So, I rarely perform this style poetry in venues.

The ODDie poetry night was an exception, it was all about activism.
           These two poems I’m performing are about that shushed voice and the inability of society to listen, when activists speak, to anything but their memory of cruel propaganda campaigns.

 

The first poem, 'I've been trigger' talks about the idea of psychiatric abuse being justified because of the belief that 'but, they're violent, aren't they?' which is said about any marginalised group that governments wish to crush, or use in a way that infringes on standard human rights. Also the unjustifiable fear of symbolism and creativity, that is attempting to put OUTRAGE into peaceful means of protest, that ends up being called 'wrong' and 'ill' by psychiatrists.

The second poem, 'Unshushable' is a shortened version of this poem. It speaks for itself, or it should. 'We're already LOUD because we have every right to be allowed!'

ODD is a support group for activists, that ran the ODDie night. The ODD group are reclaiming of the term that diagnoses youth for their ability to recognise the need to defy abusive authorities.

Oppositional, disobedient, disordered, but with good reason!

Our outrage has been ignored and hushed for too long. Psychiatric survivors should be allowed to have a voice and psychiatric abuse should not be allowed!

Appreciate though, how difficult talking about this abuse is, because of where society is at, and because of what we’ve been through.

awareness is everything!

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Media shlock and other perceptions

chhhhhssssnnnnnnnnnfffffffffffffffffffffffffssss
ssssssssssttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttssssssss
Listen
asssttttttttttttttttcchchchchchchchchchchchsssss
ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttcccccccccsssssss
what???????????ssssssssssssssschhhhhhhhhhc
huh// huh//huh////? sssssssssssssssschhhhhhhhhhtttt
Dat were me eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Ta huh ta huh okay okay okay okay
Not that again.
too much too much too much too much
Misinterpretation shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Film. Acuity of method. Round about. Hurt flash into
Those that think that... that perpetuate that tttttttttttt
SHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhtttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt
But not that, not that not that, not that but access.

Sound poetry. With a hyperlink to a documentary film I'm in, recently out.
Oh, and you just thought I was going bananas eh?
I'm an artist, not a court room case! And if you really are a judge, lose your prejudice, and reserve your judgements and harsh sentences for your job!
So I can get back to my sound poetry.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh cchchcaha haha hhahahah
Beings, book, beings second happenings and things
Expressions outside the range of understood sense
And getting into expressing the feeling, the sensory,
the society sense, my percipience of that I pick up,
Add up, look up, get, don't quite get, want to question,
Toss and turn at, worry I've stepped over a boundary,
Crash and burn the crap thrown at me, hurt, but,
Hardening, sshhhhhshshshtttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt
Watching hours of YouTube comedy when work,
work work is nagging to be done, but the back of
My mind is saying, no way, there is no way I want
You to think of anything but the laugh for a while.
But I look up 'stand up comedy' and it's all men. So,
I look up, 'Stand up comedy women' and men are
Sprinkled in, not that I mind men's comedy,
it's just that for the moment I've had enough of listening
to their dick opinions that cunt me
And why they get the focus when I'm looking for women.
Too serious, too angry, too hurt, get away from it
And CHCHCHsssssssssssstttttttttttttttttttt out hhhhap.
You don't know what you do, society, society, society,
That echoes within where verbal abuse bruises
To shuttersssssssssssssssssssssssttttttttttttttttttttttttttputt
Putt out eventually. I know it will eventually. These things
Must run out of their false esteem grime sheeeeeeeeeeem.
Whatever you do, don't post it. They'll think you are
um... you know, not gnawing the maul, like most glue.
Wha? I'm fine with myself, with everyone else
Just sometimes, what to say what's on my mind
Without thinking about how you might perceive it,
How you might think me wrong, weird, crazy, eeediot!
See lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Sssssssssssssssssssssssssounnnnnnnnnnnndddssssss
as AM sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppsssssss. You know I need to be out side the range of your sense
to get my sense of humour back and stop beating you
Over the head with my angry little blogging flogging grrr
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, you
should know that............ heee hah ha h a h hahah ha ha!

Laugh, laugh at that time I was dragged off screaming
people did, but they didn't realise, they did not realise,
that psychiatry is horrific, or they did and were glad
it was not them being taken in... 
the memory of what they did overbearing,
the emotional memory
is a bear, or lion eating my face off... as bad as that,
and then people have the gall to tell me I'm lying!
I fear the pain of what psychiatry has done to me,
As much as I fear the pain of some animal eating
My face off... and that's my perception, so,
make it funny, make me laugh that off, drag it out into a routine, make me beam that you've done a triple twist
on my painful memory, so that psychiatry
will stop their regime that threatens and harms
and never ever understands art or laughter, just diagnoses it.
The emotional memory hurts me when it gets triggered.
Yes, emotions, they hurt somewhat, but the pain,
The pain is my body saying: see this thing that happened,
Do something about it so society doesn't perpetuate it,
So they get it. People won't get that it's as bad to you,
As being mauled by hungry animals that just think
Of you as sustenance, except maybe in a picture... or
except maybe someone who's understanding
like your beautiful lover. Talk, make sounds, nonsense
even, until the consensual sense is thrashed out.
How to communicate with them, them, them, that cage
And hate my livid wrecking ball on their psychiatrist.
I'm talking stuff, but I'm far away from being lost
In alienation, far away from being lost in parallel
nightmare thinking, because I'm connecting, thinking,
getting stuff. And if I only get the sense of communication,
the sense of adding up sensory intake, that percipience, 
into sound expression, at the start
that should be okay; if it's only a scribbly image to start
that's okay, because, no one is ever perfectly clear
and succinct to everybody. Product is not there straight away for everyone. Besides, there is always someone
who is looking though their tints and veils
And Ned Kelly mask logos to fit you into them,
To say, yeah but... me, identify with my iconography!
Even if you find them unfitting and aahhhhhhhh
Shhhhhhhhhhfttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt
Goooooooooooooooooooow awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahy
they expect you to be the, because they think that they
they are the cream and when you say you don't eat
cream, that it's too rich, too sickening, they say,
don't you get the metaphor? and that's when I'm thinking
okay creamy pie endless factor in lies pill popper sty,
you talk metaphors, I think you're into poetry
so you might be into listening to the white noise hssssss
ssssssssssssssssssttttttttttttttttchcccccchchhhhhhhwr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry you
feminismmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
of sound sense sound sense sense censor reason
seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

 

 

Psychiatry in jail!



Make amends,

Appeal to your better nature,

Give reparation,

Be considerate,

Recognise the law needs correction,

Because people need

Fair treatment,

Hearing,

Honesty,

Impartiality,

Justness

And reasonableness to heal.

Humanity’s crisis cannot be overcome

Without recompense,

Redress,

And review,

So human-rights will no longer

Be so horrifically abused.

Truth must be given

So injustice won’t persist.

And psychiatry needs a sentence

That will mean its regime is stopped.

Does anyone want to claim

That they're not aware of this?*

 

 

(*If you do, then please read the rest of my blog, have a look at some of the links I give. Familiarise yourself with the stories of people who have suffered, or, are currently suffering psychiatric abuse and recognise what it was that led you to think psychiatric abuse wasn't happening. When care isn't care and medicine isn't medicine, there is not only 'card stacking' happening, but 'glittering generalities', 'the lesser of two evils', 'name calling', 'pin-pointing the enemy', but also 'plain folks devices', 'simplification', heaps of 'testimonials' to get others on the 'bandwagon' and plenty of 'transfer'... Work it out, psychiatry needs to be in jail, it has made me and so many others suffer horribly. It is not a regime isolated to Australia. It is something that has infiltrated many, many countries. It claims to help, when it hinders, it claims to care when it makes people despair. Psychiatry forcefully drugs, which is assault in the second degree, but since it is repeats this on so many individuals over long periods of time, electrocutes and uses other invasive measures, I would term this ill treatment to be something far more malevolent and horrific.)

 

 

A little drum

Bought a little hand-drum

And as I travel on the road,

My lover asks me to play.

It’s wonderful to have that

Encouragement from him

Compared to the memory

Of others telling me that

My rhythm should go away,

That my music isn’t their sway…

I beat out the intrusive past nagging.

I beat out what’s going on now,

Not between us lovers but

In government policy. Crimes…

So many things just around

The wrong way, still, today.

Laws that call torture ‘medicine,’

Laws that call forced-drugging ‘care’.

I’m throwing up the past inside

That flashes back its sense-memory.

And I pound and I pound my palms

As I hear those kind words,

‘You’re going to beat this

You’re going to beat this

Thing you’re not wanting,

This thing that stops progression,

That suicides a person’s health.

You’re going to beat this

Thing that has no right to exist

Psychiatric abuse cannot persist.’

All becomes sound

As I pound out the feeling

And the bad emotions go away

Gets put into the sound,

Sound that is heard, outside me,

Sound that says so much more

Than words will ever really.

I never want to misdirect

My justifiable anger from much

Denied rights and the damning

Of so many others still feeling

The pain psychiatry inflicts,

With which I very much empathise.

I never want to misdirect this.

I have memory of other things,

That sometimes get me too,

But I don’t misdirect that,

I don’t want another to suffer

The wounds of abuse

Ricocheting from my words,

That just need a drum sound

To clip their harsh content.

No, I don’t misdirect it,

That anger has a place to go…

And I have my little hand-drum

To beat and beat and beat

And a lover that is someone

Who gives me incredible amity

Such that I could never imagine

Possible before… He recognises

The serious flaws in mental health

Laws that attempt to manage

Diversity by crippling ability,

By infringing basic rights,

By dehumanising and debilitating.

I beat and beat and beat

So all goes into sound and I can

Find another way, another way

Another way that might get there

And give a panacea to pain

That intrudes from the past,

Traumas that demand some kind

Of way of being heard,

Even if not always through

Sensible words and legalese.

The beat becomes easy

And travels and morphs

Back to where I want to be

In the land of love, traveling home

With my lover beside me.

Beat out my heart then,

And the emotion between,

Love, love, love, that dream,

It cures all, that beautiful sense

Of connection drumming.

Psychiatry must die

I think aiming my anger at organised government supported crime, is much better than aiming it at actual people. I’ve never been good at getting angry with people, they’re too complex. They have their good points as well as their destructive points, some of them, so it’s hard to hate everything about a person, without realising there are some things that they do, that I like. Then there are some people I love completely, but that's a different story... I'm talking about what makes me angry.

            So what better thing to aim my anger at than psychiatry, a regime of government organised crime against humanity. I want the psychiatric regime to come to an end and I have legitimate reasons: I don’t want me or anyone else to be tortured by forced drugging, have their boundaries broken, forced to believe what their psychiatrists insist on, be traumatised… I think the techniques of coercive control are what’s used in domestic violence, the military and under other political regimes. It is totally unhealthy, making a former patient forever feel they have to look to someone to give them direction and tell them what to do.

            So, psychiatry must die. And when it does, I will not grieve its passing, I will dance on its grave!

            I suppose some people think they can make psychiatry change its ways, but I don’t think so. What’s the point? It has a bad reputation for torturing people. It needs to be wiped out. No one wants a Nazi or a KKK member; so, why would anyone want a practitioner of psychiatry? Get out of the industry quick if you’re in it.  Psychiatry has to end soon!

            I’m ‘going too far’ you say?

            You bloody holocaust denier, you ugly raciest, you homophobic twit… All these prejudices have one thing in common – psychiatry, if you look at the diagnostic labels that have existed over the years – the diagnosis of draptomania to enforce slavery, T4 whitecoat Nazis plying their trade as legitimate, and the classification of homosexuality as a ‘mental illness’ right into the 1970s. That’s psychiatry and if you think psychiatry is ever going to clean up its act, you’re deluded!

            So, psychiatry must die. Psychiatry must die. And, I wish society would hurry up and kill it off quickly, because it is taking too long to kark it. Stop dithering on whether torture should or should not be used on people who have already undergone traumatic life experiences and are suffering because of it. It quite obviously should NOT BE USED. Get with it! And if anyone thinks I exaggerate how painful neuroleptics are, read up about how Russian defectors described these psychiatric drugs, that are still prescribed, as the worst torture they were forced to undergo.Book: Mad in America

            You think I’m just some angry little blogger? No, I’m a completely outraged blogger who has been tortured by the regime of psychiatry and has every right to say and say again what is so suppressed by society it is silly.

            Plus, I’ve found when I vent about how much I hate psychiatry the Tourette’s tics, originally caused by neuroleptics, disappear. I think the Tourette’s, which feels like me whip-lashing myself, when directed into sensible thoughts like ending psychiatry, feels amicable and stops the nonsense lines like, ‘I want to kill myself’ I had repeating and hopping out my mouth while alone.

            Suppression causes malfunction. Venting the steam of outrage, means at least people might start to recognise it is not me, so much as the law, that needs to change. And when I start to feel more validated, then my mind has less reason to do things like Tourette’s tics.

Redbubble psychiatry must die ipad cases, t-shirts etc

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