I’m not suffering

I’m not suffering,

I’m just annoying

To people who want to give me more grief

Than I have already had.

They tell me to shut up

About double-standards they like to promote as valid opinions,

Saying, if I don’t modify my ways to fit with my gender,

They can shut me up

And have me tortured, or at least, they hint at that,

Without actually being the villain enough

To finish me that way, just curb

Through a look or by saying,

That certain words or phrases are a trigger

To not listen properly,

Or some faff of an excuse for prejudice to disclude,

Vilify, label and alienate.

They smile as they think

How they can get me down,

To their heel hobble mannerisms.

I can’t be given a scholarship

For a disability I don’t have,

When I have get-up-and-go ability,

Now that I’m not tied down

With track-marks on my butt

From psychiatrists’ disabling fortnightly injections,

That had all I’m meant to be and do

Flushed down by their pooh-pooh pulpit.

Society is very pushy,

But once you’ve been tortured in the community’s name,

You fear your own expression,

You fear your own perseverance,

Try to never push back, apologise way too readily…

You rarely express needs, wants,

Certainly fear asking for decency, with a forthright tone,

Lest you be considered ‘aggressive’.

I am not suffering,

So I want to have my say

About what is happening,

What has happened

And what should not be happening.

I will not be told some nonsense

From a prejudiced mouth

That wants keep brutal control 

Of language and opinions.

I have to survive more than that,

Otherwise I am being held back,

Humanity is being held back

And suffering as a result.

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.

Suicide prevention

I just don’t want to call the CAT team

I can’t apply what I learnt as a child

As a way to help another out of suicide.

I cannot cry those tears of desperation

To show my love, that prevented my mother

From taking her life. But I can listen

Like I did back then, to the things,

That psychiatrists judge and diagnose.

I can give enough understanding that may mean

That suicidal feelings can be expressed

Without the need for the actual action of harm

Happening to the self, perhaps, yes perhaps…

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I hear myself scream as I am hauled in socks

Across the road, I cry for help, I am lost,

When that is the policy and procedure

To help someone through suicidal ideation

And unusual states of consciousness.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

My mother feared that enough to know,

Never to see a mental health professional.

I know it enough from my own experience,

To flee when it is mentioned as prevention.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I am looking for something else,

Not what I did as a child for my mother,

But something else, because I’m an adult,

Who knows policy and procedure, but,

Wants to prevent that from happening

As well as the potential suicide…

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

What is and isn’t responsible I feel is warped

In our society, to the point where

Aversion therapy is the legal way

And gentler methods are discarded alternatives.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I don’t want a person that’s hurting to become

Subjected to imprisonment and forced drugging,

Asked about their symptoms and not

Considered as a person with individuality.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

notachemicalimbalance protest T-shirts