World mental health day

So tommorow is 10th of october. Tommorow is world mental health day.

I thought I’d raise awareness in my own creative way of course! Here is some of my photography work from 4 years ago, along with a poem i wrote today and a song that i wrote that is related to mental illness. How will you raise awareness?

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The fear 

Mental illness isn’t an over reaction of paranoia and loneliness. It’s not an over reaction at all. It’s when it hurts to smile and laugh and feels odd to be happy. You question yourself all the time, and then it’s all back on rewind , a circle of your daily life stuck in previous times.

It isn’t a bad thing or a label of worry, until they tell you to hurry. Hurry up and stop being sad. Tapping feet, impatient hands, that voice in your head or them people you met that feed you with regrets. SHUT THE HELL UP, you scream to yourself.

Trembling arms, and a shaky heart breaks you but fills you and keeps you then leaves you, just like a person. A person that said they would stay. Stay but then go away. Stay away from my illness, too big of a burden to carry away.

It’s just a phase, it’s just a phase, it’s just a phase.

It’s a time when you want to be alone, a time when fear overwhelms you, it frustrates you, it panicks you, and traps you. Gritting my teeth to distract me from mental debt, how do I escape this never ending game?

It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

You become more cautious of people close to you, no they are not out to get you, but you feel they are a threat, they hurt you, and break you, they mislead you, and burn you. You don’t want attachment with people because they will be strangers to you soon.

Every human who says they’re human eats at your thoughts and drives you insane, because in their mind they are right and I am blind, I am blind, I am blind in a so called world full of light.

From your head to your feet, everything around this space is danger, and I am. I am a Stranger and you are a stranger to the world full of fake faces who’s blood runs with tears, and a craving thirst for love from fear of being alone. Fear of being alone.

Being awake at night counting sheep just to help get to sleep, but your feet are too cold and your brain is too weak to defeat the misery you crave everyday. Everyday you crave sadness that keeps you content, is this meant to alarm you or calm you, I can’t defend the sickly thoughts that got caught on the dreamcatcher beside my head , beside my bed.

I’m not dead I’m still breathing, but I locked myself under this ceiling, far away from deceiving minds that bite my insides and stop my breathing.

And talking to my self isn’t boring conversation any more, talking to myself is a cure. Talking to myself isn’t boring conversation any more.

An empty room filled with stuttering words that repeat letters continuously, the constant repetition of worry and self doubt, bouncing from wall to wall, stuck in yesterday. Because today won’t wash away. It won’t wash away the over thinking or scars that lay on your skin, painting a picture on your body and creating art just to distract you from yesterday’s pain.

Today’s pain is glued to me, I’m stuck. I’m so stuck in the mud since I was 5. I was 5 when I started loosing sight. Sight of the cruel world and confused appetites.

Its like being lost on a train track, wondering which way is home and which way is right, the whole world spins around you faster than the sun in a clock of broken time.

Every day a new stranger is born in your life, someone who will die just like our troubled minds. Chemical imbalance or a tragic event, either way we still pretend. We still pretend to be okay so we don’t burden others lives.

Waking up feeling fine. Feeling fine for a few seconds, and then you go back in time. Can’t get out of bed, without little interest. Little interest. You think what’s the point if I’m so out of mind? A constant battle with a dark cloud, a war I left behind. You found out that the more you try the harder it gets so you just give up, break down and cry and start creating art again.

The first step to seeing if we have a problem is admitting we have one. So when it hits you like a tidal wave, you hide in your cave, where there’s no light, no courage to be brave, but it’s okay, you’re not alone, you’re not alone, you’re not alone. It’s a sickness not a weakness or a choice, it’s a voice in your head it’s only a voice.

Despite trying so hard to be happy all I ever see Is blues and greys. Living has become a constant nightmare and it’s just not fair, it’s a 1000 stones pulling me to the ground and I can’t seem to get out.

The best escape is to keep content, it’s not too late to intend to mend, it’s not too late to pretend. But how?? Who what when and where? All these questions buzzing through your head, which one do you answer, what’s next?

I hate to see myself fall, so I hide this from people I wear my own mask I put up my own wall. But it’s so high that you can’t see, and I can’t leap. I can’t leap over or knock it down because weakness is my strength and all I can do is crawl, because I’m just no good, I’m just not strong and tall.

Feeling sick every day. Vomit to your throat and you’re hiding behind an invisible cloak with an invisible illness, so ghostly and surreal, the over exaggerated feelings that you feel, is enough to keep you full instead of a daily meal.

Wake up and listen to the silent cries and sleep with them at night. It’s the hell inside of me and it beats me up daily.

My eyes are failing. Failing to see the good world and feel a fresh day without sun rays blinding and me finding.

Finding a world where I am not alone.

For I am not alone.

I am not alone. I am not alone.


Here is a song I wrote that is related to mental illness: 

6 past 9

CLICK HERE for more information on how you could take part in this day through the young minds website, which includes tips on how to look after your mental health.


What will you do to raise awareness?


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