Progress - poem

Progress used to be terrifying

The idea that I was breaking free

From you, from something I was absolutely convinced

Was saving me

But I saw through your lies, 

Well I started to question your motivations

And only then did I realise 

That behind your hesitations 

Was a quarry of make believe 

Of scenarios that don’t make sense

Illogical, irrational

Unachievable to say the least 

All it wants is my life

And that I refuse to give. 

I feel guilt even writing this

Like exposing you is shameful

Maybe the guilt comes from believing you for so long

Making me this hateful

Of the people I love, the people who care

You twisted their words and made me despair 

As to why they would hurt me, punish me like this

Take you away from me, leaving me in the abyss. 

I fought them for so long

In secret and in person

Because I was lost, confused and scared

And everything felt too uncertain. 

But you created that fear, the anxiety and despair. 

You made me hopeless, you made me not care

About what I was doing, to others and me

And while I’m still scared... 

I want to be free. 

Breaking out of the cage 

You’ve constructed so tightly 

Woven any gaps, 

Filled any holes

Airtight, padlocked, no windows

For so long I’ve been blinded. 

And I guess I still am

I don’t know where to go

Or who to believe or how to show

What’s going on inside 

Without you ‘helping’ me

But I know that... you’re not. 

Just look at my reality. 

You told me if I went against you

If I didn’t follow your rules

That I would feel out of control

I’d want to end it all. 

Well today I tried something different 

I broke a ritual 

You screamed and hollered and shouted so loud

You told me I’d fall. 

But I am still alive

My heart is still beating

I am still safe

And though this may be fleeting

I feel a little stronger

Like I’ve proved to you

That you may have won some battles 

But the war... oh trust me,

I’ll beat you.  

I’m falling - poem

Bruised toes

Shaking hands

Purple lips 

This is just how it goes

Sleepless nights 

Aching joints

Blurred vision and fainting

My stomach cries

Legs wobble

My heart thumps

I’m at the mercy of your lies

One more run

One more pill

Skip another meal

Just for god measure 

Luring me to the idea

That it’ll be better 

Calmer, quieter, safer

And maybe I won’t live in fear 

If I just do what I’m told

Follow the commands

Push my body to the brink

So it’ll match my mind. 

Breaking, weary, exhausted 

Still going, still trying

But running on empty fumes

Any hope is dying. 

My true collapse - poem

The laugher wavers

The smile cracks

And you see for the first time

My true collapse 

See beyond the ‘in fine’ 

Understand that I’m not just ‘tired’ 

But that I’m utterly exhausted 

My strength has expired 

Along with any hope or bravery 

Or will to just survive

That got me through the actual trauma

Because now I’m barely alive. 

I’m left a self deprecating wreck 

And I surrender to the demons

The people that hurt me win

They broke me long ago 

I’ve been trying to fix the puzzle pieces 

What I failed to realise is 

There is such a strong undertow 

Of moments of hell frozen in time

That leave me lost back in the past

And I’m scared I’ll never be free 

Because it all feels so real

My stomach is wrenching with fear

My mind races, I can’t breathe 

I can’t hear, speak or move;

Why is all this happening to me? 

I concede - poem

If this is a war, I concede. 

I’m too tired to continue 

I try and beg for you to understand

Without trying to be an issue

But please hear me

I am so tired

I can’t take another day. 

I’m so lost in this world that’s too big

I try and hold on with anything, 

But I feel beaten from deep within. 

Any last strength has been worn

The hope has faded 

All I can consider

Is how to end this. 

Selfish I know

I hate myself too. 

I don’t want to be a problem

I’m tired of being an issue. 

I’m never enough 

I’m always failing

I try to please everyone

But the truth is I’m breaking. 

I can’t keep holding on for this safe life I’m promised

When all I’ve ever known is danger and pain

How can I trust anyone anymore

I’m trying to refrain;

From shutting down completely 

Withdrawing to my bubble

If no ones in, no one can hurt me

I’ll be free from it all. 

And I know that’s not real

It’ll all be there

Because that’s just how things go for me

And you question why I despair. 

I’m a control freak, out of control - poem

It’s unrelenting

It thrives off of consuming you 

And letting you consume nothing

Of hijacking your every thought 

Twisting and turning

Convincing and persuading

Luring and enticing   

Any hope is fading

My mind is full of questions. 

Who what where when? 

Maybe if I can find all the answers

This panic will end. 

But the more I question the hazier it becomes

The more my mind spins around and around

My thoughts are yours

And yours are mine

A cobweb of anarchy 

So unbelievably intertwined. 

Logic flew out the window

Along with rational

And any chance of strength

To break free from your spell  

You control my every movement

Everything I say and do

It’s not that I’m choosing to listen to you

But you helped me before

So I feel I owe you. 

But this is excruciating 

My legs ache from exhaustion

And you tell me that’s a sign to push harder

My vision wavers 

My world is becoming narrower

You’ve calculated every opportunity

To fight to stay in control

I had no idea the power you had

Until I tried to be free from it all. 

I value trust, honesty, consistency 

And you provide me with them all

But equally you are the sharp opposite

Because look at my fall. 

No one trusts me 

I don’t blame them

I’m a control freak out of control

So tired and ready to give in. 

6/11/17

You win. - poem

The claws tighten 

My vision is blurred

I’m loosing my grip on reality

Your demands were once absurd

But now they seem normal

Because not eating is fine

And running when my legs shake

When my body screams stop

And my heart aches 

You still press on

‘Just a little more’ 

I try to appease, I can’t remember what for. 

I look in the mirror

And at my body

It seems to be growing, 

Expanding by the second

Even though the number goes down

Your calls beckon. 

My eyes are tired 

My body aches 

And you applaud me

For lowering my intake. 

My mind narrows 

Nothing matters anymore 

Apart from shrinking down

The number falling

The clothes hanging looser

My minds shut down. 

Exhaustion overwhelms me 

I can’t do this again

So I resign. 

You win. 

I concede - poem.

If this is a war, I concede. 

I’m too tired to continue 

I try and beg for you to understand

Without trying to be an issue

But please hear me

I am so tired

I can’t take another day. 

I’m so lost in this world that’s too big

I try and hold on with anything, 

But I feel beaten from deep within. 

Any last strength has been worn

The hope has faded 

All I can consider

Is how to end this. 

Selfish I know

I hate myself too. 

I don’t want to be a problem

I’m tired of being an issue. 

I’m never enough 

I’m always failing

I try to please everyone

But the truth is I’m breaking. 

I can’t keep holding on for this safe life I’m promised

When all I’ve ever known is danger and pain

How can I trust anyone anymore

I’m trying to refrain;

From shutting down completely 

Withdrawing to my bubble

If no ones in, no one can hurt me

I’ll be free from it all. 

And I know that’s not real

It’ll all be there

Because that’s just how things go for me

And you question why I despair. 

3/11/17

Relapse in recovery - poem

Slowly slowly I fell

Back into the depths of hell

One meal missed, one walk extended 

One more pill, another rule amended. 

The unrelenting shouting

Of the voice inside my head

Do this do that

A slave til I’m dead. 

Forever moving goals posts 

I chase and chase and chase 

In hope to ease the shouting 

For the thoughts to slow their pace. 

But they never do

It’s never enough 

And before I know it 

I am engulfed 

Back to square one

With added guilt of failure 

I beat myself up 

Why is it never enough?  

I dream of the day I am free from this 

I pray the day will come 

Where food isn’t the enemy,

And life includes the word fun. 

I hold onto the dream, 

Right now I have to trust others 

Because the voice in my head

Is nothing but a liar. 

But it’s hard when you see blue 

When everyone shouts ‘it’s red!’ 

To believe them over what feels so factual

To go against your head. 

I’m at a point I have no choice

Literally and in my head. 

Nothing makes sense anymore 

And Fiona doesn’t want to be dead. 

I feel like a failure, a lost cause, hopeless. 

I’ve let down so many people, 

And Any argument my head made,

 now feels feeble. 

What I am trying to remember is

Fiona did not choose this 

Fiona doesn’t want to be poorly 

And Fiona wants to live. 

A few steps back maybe

But we can call it a learning curve 

Because Recovery is not linear

And Life is not perfect 

It hurts and it pains and it beats me down. 

Sometimes I’m scared it’s hit too hard

It’d be easier to shut down. 

But I am still alive 

And I know I will beat this. 

A few steps back maybe, 

But nows the time to reminisce. 

Alot has been dealt with. 

And I’m not where I want to be

But I’m miles away from where I have been.

And actually; 

I’ll hold onto the knowledge 

That despite 10 steps backward

I’ve also come 1000 forward 

And I will not be deterred 

The flame hasn’t gone out

Maybe just dimmed in the storm

But that proves... 

I have the fight, the strength and courage. 

Just sometimes, it wavers a little 

And I need a bit more help. 

Recovery isn’t perfect, 

Neither am I. 

I won’t pretend to be, 

But I promise you, I will survive. 

Hello!

Hey! I’m Fi, and I’m just your average slightly sideways bean trying to muddle her way through life, with the added interesting elements of her brain going a bit cookydo. 

I’m battling mental illness, as i have been for many years now, currently in a long inpatient stay but I’m getting there. I’m learning and becoming stronger everyday, so here’s a place for me to ramble on as i do most of the time about the bizarre things that go on in my head! Ive got a bit of a complex history, and a not so straight forward present, but hey, life would be boring if it was simple and easy! Enjoy! 

I'm fine

Im fine, I promise.

Im fine, a phrase I must use over 10 times a day. A phrase that means the polar opposite of what it says. But that doesn’t matter. People ask questions, how are you, are you safe, have you hurt yourself, are you going to hurt yourself, how are you feeling, whats your mood like, are you okay?

Yes, im fine. Im always fine. Im fine a 3am when tears are poruing from my eyes and im forcing a pillow over my mouth to stop myself gasping for air, stopping myself from making a noise as to alert people to how I truly am.

Im fine as I sit down for six meals a day and fight through the intrusive anorexic thoughts of don’t eat, don’t eat, don’t eat. Bad, fat, ugly, worthless.

Im fine as I take my dog for a walk and pretend that I love it, when in reality, its just another compulsion that I have to carry out, anything to ease the anxiety.

What is ‘fine’? I don’t know whats considered normal anymore, I don’t recognise that its not normal to stay awake all night planning overdoses or how to run away, I don’t see it as abnormal to sit at my desk with suicidal thoughts bubbling away.

I guess that’s the problem with these illnesses. They take away your sense of knowledge, its been so many years now, I don’t know what is normal. I feel an almost panic if I have a good day, what do I do with myself? Im so used to conditioning myself to walk past shops without buying all their paracetamol in stock, or binging on alcohol to just get these voices to stop.

Maybe its selfish. Maybe im selfish. Maybe this illness has made me this way, I probably deserve it. Maybe the doctors are right when they tell me im lazy, that im not trying. Maybe im beyond caring anymore. Maybe, ive given up, maybe when im smashing my head into a wall trying to stop myself from shoving those pills down my throat or cutting my wrists, its too little too late.

Maybe I am already dead, maybe I died all those years ago when it happened. Maybe the second it started, Fiona died and I became a shell of a human trying to survive in a world that seemed to want me out.

Maybe I wasted all those years in therapy, all those meals I powered through and the promises I made. Every hospital trip ending with ‘I really am going to try now, it wont happen again, promise’. Maybe, it really is futile. You cant resuscitate a person who has been gone for so long. There is only so many times you can hospitalize a person to keep them alive. There is only so many phone calls that can be made, so many emails of desperation, so many police and ambulance visits before you realise its just not going to get better.

Maybe this hospital visit really will be the last.

But I promise, im fine.