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 In her eighth poem of the series, poet Brenda McDonald describes what it's like to carry the burden of a secret. For many one's secret may be their mental illness, their suicidal thoughts, or their struggles with substance abuse and addiction. As Brenda beautifully alludes to, having such a secret can be immensely painful; however, there is light, hope, and relief when one is able to release this darkness by finding someone who they feel safe to share it with.
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 In this poem, Anna Lente, poet, artist, and The Mighty contributor, helps us to grasp a little understanding of what it's like for individuals who suffer from multiple mental health disorders such as anxiety and bipolar disorder.
"... Another day Mania spins me in circles, My mind leaping to dizzying heights, Spiraling flights of thoughts, Dangerous impulses, While I use every bit of my inner strength to Sit and stay, Waiting for the eventual Crash back into depression. Then crawling out from depression Back to something akin to normal. Some days loud, crowded spaces trigger panic attacks. I enter rooms looking for empty corners and exit signs. I enter conversations listening for pauses so I can escape. A panic attack means a quick retreat To the safe space of my car, The comfort of my home. I cover myself in blankets In the comfortable cocoon of my recliner, Listen to my favorite songs on repeat, Tell myself everything will be OK..." To read the full poem, visit: https://themighty.com/2017/03/poem-living-with-multiple-mental-illnesses/  In her seventh poem of the series, poet Brenda McDonald describes how for a long time she struggled with a sense of failure at not being strong enough or working hard enough to overcome mental illness. However, Brenda later discovered that by eliminating the pressure on oneself and removing "should" from your vocabulary, she was able to focus more on self-care and self-love which was monumental in her recovery.
BE TRUE I should And I would if I could But I can't or can I Guilt for won't instead of will Try harder why don't you Success for do instead of me Am I not enough Right now or not yet Till I change I should And I would if I could... What if I got rid of should I'm okay, me right now Let go of would and could Free myself from guilt Embrace the 'I am' today Release the weight of 'I do' Be open to my strengths Feel my heart cheer me on See the beauty of my mind Listen to my soul's nudges To choose, I'll try, for me, be true.  In her sixth poem, poet Brenda McDonald exquisitely describes the isolation and loneliness that those who live with depression often experience, in addition to their hope for recovery and brighter days that often lays hidden beneath the surface.
Loneliness Loneliness Enters my impressionable mind as just a feeling Explodes inward to become a defining feature Loneliness Spreads to my sensitive heart with a vengeance Steals self-compassion with reckless abandon Loneliness Strangles my caring soul with penetrating grip Tries desperately to mute the voice of self-love Loneliness Catapults me to an imaginary island of intimidating isolation Whisks me away from any source of help, support, love Loneliness Robs me of faith to trust in the goodness of God, for me Manipulates my personal understanding of prayer and peace Loneliness Welcomes anxiety and depression to facilitate alienation Delights in my whole body descending deeper into abyss Loneliness Creates a substantial barrier of darkness to shut out life's light Blends long, sun-starved days into even longer starless nights Loneliness Grows seeds of unworthiness that sprout and take over like weeds Circulates paralysing hopelessness around like continuous gust of wind Loneliness Covers my weak being with cumbersome blanket of self-judgement Laps up my essence with its harsh tongue, leaving only empty bowl Loneliness Creates illusion I'm invisible with no one to reverse the magic trick Changes shape of my puzzle piece so no longer fit in with all the normal ones Loneliness Weakens my physical and mental energy to persevere no matter what Bundles up heavy thoughts and hurls them at me in rapid succession Loneliness Hides in background when I'm out and about, engaged and sharing smiles Moves to the forefront once alone; left sad, crying, searching for understanding Loneliness Prevents me from thriving in my vulnerability and courage to really live Collects fragments of fear and doubt, magnifying them to obsessive capacity Loneliness Questions the likelihood someone would love me enough to be my close friend Convinces me I am meant to go it alone, away from nurturing hugs and kind words Loneliness Swallows up my essence, my potential, my dreams... with its all-consuming ways Pushes my heart, mind and soul further away from recovery and revitalization Loneliness Only a word until infused with personal meaning Only a feeling but perceived as fact Only, only....is there hope?  In her fifth poem, poet Brenda McDonald beautifully illustrates and describes the experience of #depression, and the associated feelings of falling, loneliness and hopelessness, as well as lightly touching on the stigma surrounding #mentalhealth.
Free Falling Life is full of highs and lows, happy and sad, give and take, you and me But what if life takes my breath away and doesn't give it back...? The mental health struggles become like mountains that continue to rise For some, suicide may feel like the one and only way to deal with the pain But what if I feel like I am free falling with absolutely no end in sight? Farther and farther away from help, support, love and hope Like a bird swooping precariously downward, having lost its wings to redirect Imagine going down a roller coaster without screams of excitement Or bungee jumping off a tall bridge without a surge of exhilaration Only feelings of despair prevail, lost to yourself and the world around you Plunge without knowing if there will be anyone or anything to save you Wanting to live, but not sure how to stop the advancing train of hopelessness Heading right for you, whistle blowing, scaring the crap out of mind and body Pretending to be fine, smiling and laughing, when I'm crying huge tears inside Thought-sucking Gremlins surround, attack and win without any moral hesitation The only person that really knows my truths, sees me once/week for an hour Still I have untold secrets churning around inside, pleading to be let out and shared Not easy to open up about depression and anxiety, too much stigma to risk much Strong but weak, healthy but ill, outgoing but lonely, energetic but lethargic Who will hold my hand to comfort me, stay by my side, when blinding darkness pervades? Wearing a concealed suit of emotional armour, how do I allow love's power to tear it off me? Oh how I long to feel genuinely loved, believe that I'm loveable, it's vital to my survival Perched on an illusory cloud in the vast sky above, I look down with trepidation and wonder What is it like to live with purpose, direction, self-worth and a sense of belonging? I see people embracing light, hugging each other, singing with joy, letting go and living Our world has room for everyone, so why do I feel like there is no room for someone like me? One personal journey but many pathways, some old and some new, uncertainty rules Who will guide me down an undiscovered trail when I become paralysed with fear and worry? Life is full of smooth and rough, dreams and reality, chocolate and Brussels sprouts But what if life takes my spirited vitality away and doesn't give it back...? The mental health struggles become like oceans that continue to widen For some, suicide may feel like the one and only way to deal with the pain But what if I feel like I am free falling with absolutely no end in sight? Questions come easily to me but answers not so much Sitting by the edge, I ponder....  In her fourth poem, "It Must Be Hard For You", Brenda McDonald speaks to the value and significance of others, whether it be a physician, therapist, loved one or friend, lending a listening ear and recognizing and validating their experiences and emotions.
It Must Be Hard For You "It must be hard for you..." Putting recognition and words to the struggle Not feeling sorry for me I don't feel sorry for me Just letting me know you realize It's difficult to live with mental illness It's a step towards understanding Try this therapy or maybe that one? What about this medication or that? I appreciate the years of research Developing ways to help treat But first, thank you for recognizing "It must be hard for you..." Remembering and focusing on positive times Not easy to do right now Life is so very challenging Negatives have more volume and control Certainly want to tip the teeter totter down Down towards improved mental health Takes lots of energy to push away negative weight Negative weight of demoralizing self-chatter Get it off its comfortable seat, push, pierce, pounce So the teeter totter can tip down towards encouraging positives I know, only I know what it's like to be me but "It must be hard for you..." It's like a pause before the attack Attack to fight the demons so that I can live Live life as I’m meant to Without the steel chains of anxiety and depression Holding me face down to the ground Who really cares, I don't matter anyway Knowing I am loved, supported and valued By others but also myself Can loosen the chains, make life more rewarding Many things in life are hard, some obvious Mental illness is often hidden and overwhelming "It must be hard for you..." Imagine what it would be like to live with a wild mind Mind taking you to places you don't want to go Telling you untruths, put downs, nonsense Making you behave in ways you don’t want to Rituals again, worry more, fatigue always Leaving you with feelings you don't want to have Resentment, irritability, frustration, confusion Please feel free to express your emotions around me Tears of compassion, it's ok to cry Smiles of connection, we all need that Respectful humour can reroute misty eyes into laughter Oh, how I need to laugh more "It must be hard for you..." Not looking to be fixed or cured I am looking for healing, guidance, direction Tired of the guilt, shame, blame cast on myself By myself, over and over daily, let me breathe Everyone has a story to tell, listen one and all Hope is in every soul, let it out to permeate Permeate through one's heart and mind Feeling hopeless takes away, never gives But it is real for many "It must be hard for you..." Thank you Putting words and recognition to the struggle Means a lot to me  In her third poem, poet Brenda McDonald shares her experiences of being in therapy for her anxiety and depression, highlighting the importance of human connection, of empathy, of support, and of having a safe space to try and work through the confusion and internal turmoil.
Therapy Open door, closed door Same place each week Share what is deep down Someone who listens to me Connection is vital to healing Kindness and empathy, thank you I try to embrace all that is said Gremlins don't allow, so sorry Vulnerable within the four walls Time is up, I must leave Back to being alone No one to lean on What does it take to believe Back and forth talk ends too soon Internal tears flow freely afterwards Only temporary safe place Lost, what should I do Words don't always explain Between the cracks, looking up Trapped in my struggling mind Time drifts by as I think Ruminate, round and round Rituals steal hours from me Give me back my sanity Falling down the hole Deeper into the ground Light is getting dimmer Reach out, I need help Life is good, why do I suffer Stomach wrenched, pain Anxious, who really knows me Too complicated, many directions Heaviness of soul, hopeless of heart Help me know you care, I'm broken Love is as necessary to life as breath Where is my self-love, stop the voices Hide behind the mask, who am I Without illness, would I exist Held down with chains of fear Why does loneliness infiltrate me Other people live their lives I observe, I dream, I wish Will tomorrow be any different Back to the four walls  In her second poem "What Does That Mean To You", poet Brenda McDonald, shares some powerful thoughts about mental illness, including how mental health conditions do not discriminate. In addition, Brenda's poem is a reminder to us all that mental illness does not define an individual, and that by continuing to talk about mental health and by being empathetic and understanding we can really help support those suffering with mental health conditions.
What Does That Mean To You? "Person with mental illness" What does that mean to you? Can I be a leader, specialist, educator And have that label too? No one is immune from the piercing claws of depression Life-altering anxiety cripples one's mind. apprehensive intrusion Money, education and career don't protect from mental health concerns Suicide claims our loved ones lives; no gender, age, social or cultural exclusion I have mental health issues But 'who I am' is so much more I'm not my depression or my anxiety Look to my heart, my soul, my core Value experience and education together Each one of us, we are unique but united Take time for and learn from one another Real face to face time, human contact ignited Listen openly to what I am saying Show me, I need to know you care, Being vulnerable is a place to start To reduce stigma, we must share Look beyond the words spoken Body language talks, be aware Hiding behind the mask happens Notice hope replaced with despair Why does my life matter? Why live? Many ask these questions every day Reach out with empathy, a loving touch "I'm here for you, I'm not leaving, OK?" Humans have so much to offer in this world We have unlimited love and learning potential Our minds can take us to mountain tops and valleys Taking care of our mental health is essential Life is complex, so many paths to travel down We may be on a dangerous road, reroute now No one's on a pedestal; no person is better than you or me For those dealing with mental illness, let's help somehow "Person with mental illness" What does that mean to you? Can I be a leader, specialist, educator And have that label too?  Over the next few weeks, we will be featuring a series of poems written by Brenda McDonald, a 53 year old mother from Ontario who has lived with mental health struggles since she was 14 years old, specifically anorexia, OCD and depression.
In her poem "Claws of Depression", Brenda eloquently describes the wraths of depression and the significant impact it can take on one's sense of meaning, their relationships, and their overall function and view of oneself and the future. CLAWS OF DEPRESSION Smiling to the world around Sadness tears her up inside Claws of depression dig deep Purpose and hope denied Mary notices the wildlife scurrying all around Feels the warmth of the sun's rays on her face Admires wildflowers blossoming in springtime Listens to song birds singing with such grace But her vivacious energy has left her body It's a struggle to get out of bed each day Fatigue follows Mary where ever she goes Hard to keep the negative thoughts at bay Smiling to the world around Sadness tears her up inside Claws of depression dig deep Purpose and hope denied Mary cheers at soccer and ball hockey games Listens, empathetic and caring, as friends share Daily walks with her beloved dog, hiking on trails Even sings in a choir, every song is like a prayer But self- esteem and self -confidence are really low Irritability and total frustration pierce through at home Happiness and joy replaced by all- consuming loneliness Always searching for wholeness, fulfillment... shalom Smiling to the world around Sadness tears her up inside Claws of depression dig deep Purpose and hope denied Writing poetry is a positive creative outlet to express herself Mindfulness helps Mary be in the moment, a healthy place to be Chatting with others about the weather is a fun Canadian thing to do Singing along with the radio while doing dishes, so what if she's off key! But personal guilt consumes her as she fails to climb out of the darkness An emptiness inside leaves Mary wondering why she should even bother Alone and scared, she cries behind her sunglasses, hoping no one will see Hating this feeling of helplessness, will Mary ever be strong and prosper? Smiling to the world around Sadness tears her up inside Claws of depression dig deep Purpose and hope denied In this expressive spoken word poem, Anya Klimitchev shares her experience with PTSD, and highlights the associated hyperarousal and powerful flashbacks. " ...They seem to puncture my heart making it so that it is impossible to love myself or anyone else because of my damaged stature of insecurity and fright. They seem to puncture my skull making my brain forget to tell me that where I am is not back with my father that where I am is not back in that abuse that where I am is not the black hole of hate that always seemed to consume me when I was there. They seem to puncture my soul causing my sense of self-conscious to be lost to the deep end taking away my dreams and goals ..." |
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Supporting and enhancing students' and health professionals' knowledge and understanding of mental health and psychiatry
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