I’ve mentioned before that I deal with mental health issues.  Well, more correctly, I should say I have them to deal with.  Sometimes the task gets beyond me, as it did for a few weeks earlier this year. They say struggle builds character; the way I’ve been lately, I’m just about a whole new font.

The Broken Mind

Every day’s a battle
That no-one understands.
Every night is torture;
Sleep’s a distant land.

The fears and stresses creep and crawl
Like grubs with burrows in my head.
I’m in a never ending fall.
I want to run, my feet are lead.
There’s too much quiet, too much to hear,
Too much dark, the light’s too bright.
Everyone is way too near,
Don’t want to be alone tonight.

Trying leads to failure,
Anger and frustration.
Not trying is for cowards;
That way’s no salvation.

In calmer times I know what’s true,
I see goodness, I have fun.
But when I’m spiralling I do
Not really know what has gone on.
Were conversations truly had?
Did happenings really occur?
Am I actually going mad?
Have I already landed there?

There’s no way to cope
Yet I must continue.
No purpose in hope;
The black dog will eat you.

Misery’s a storming ocean
With waves of ink that blot the sky.
I struggle through expected motions,
Kneel in the wash, pretend I’m dry.
I’ve heard the universe turns slowly,
That all to come’s already passed.
My soul is broken, I am lowly.
For me its spinning too damn fast.

I used to be centred.
I used to suppress.
My barriers fell and
My wits took egress.

Simple tasks defeat me now;
No sanctuary in routine.
I pace the floor with furrowed brow.
I feel battered, dry, unclean.
The very words are meaningless,
These concepts have no referents,
And so there’s no way to express
My dread of losing coherence.

Still, a spark flares up ahead,
A tether for my cognition.
The imminence of journey’s end,
The catharsis of oblivion.

© Darryn Roberts 2014