Simba

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Hey you! Hi there, hello!
What’s your name? Mine is Will-oo
Now you’re here and I have your attention
Let me tell you a story I simply must mention
I was born on a farm, but it wasn’t to be
I was put up for adoption, which was safer for me

In this temporary home I made a new friend
Knowing my stay here would someday end
So until then I decided to kick back and relax
Manipulating the humans, to the max
I was on top of our cage, sleeping on my mate,
Enjoying the life, which I thought was just great
When one day, 6ft above the floor
Where I was staying safe, away from the door
Two strangers had arrived; they came for me
I was awoken from my slumber on a cat called Wolf-e
They weren’t dogs or cats but people see?
Introducing themselves were Dad and Mum-ee

I knew before them that they’d take me home
And when I got there I realised I wasn’t alone
A new brother and sister were waiting for me
Don’t know what they look like cause I’m blind you see
My big bro, was a Rascal by name and nature
I thought he was quite, an interesting creature
And get this, it’s no joke
When Misty vanishes just like smoke

I love to sit, on a warm lap
Closing my eyes, drifting into a nap
Mum tickles my head, just behind my ear
Feeling safe, I have nothing to fear
My Dad has a head, which I love to lick
Using a tongue with bristles ever so thick
One day I even followed him up a ladder
Couldn’t understand why he was getting madder
Turns out he was stuck up in the attic
With me at the top he got into a panic
A solution was found and this problem got solved
You wouldn’t believe what this involved!
And after this, dad was a lot more cautious
He kept a closer eye on each and all of us

We have our own room, which is shared
With places to hide if I feel scared
After these events my true personality came out
I get can my own way when loudly I shout
But that’s ok because I am blind as a bat
Simba I’m now called and I’m King Cat!

Then one day Mum and Dad went out
I cried for them and we began to shout
For they had gone to that same place
From where we first met, face to face
And when they came back they were not alone
As they had brought another cat into my royal home!
She was small and black and as feisty as can be
We soon realised she was mad as a nutty Cook-ie!

Amid this expansion I’m sure you can see
That it took us awhile to feel like a fam-il-ee
With happiness reigning entirely in the house
We were playing our favourite game of cat and mouse
Then one day our parents went out again
We don’t want this, it’s a total pain!

And from the CPA they came back
With something tiny coloured white and black
For home they brought the smallest kitten
And after a while we were totally smitten
Soon we realised what was in store
For this small kitten had a purr like a roar
Then one day, he felled dad like a tree
Watched it happen we all did see
“Tttiiimmmbbbeeerrr” we laughed as dad fell in the kitchen
“You called?” whispered this newest addition
Dad must’ve heard us cause shortly thereafter
He changed the kittens name from ‘Timmy’ to ‘Tim-ber’
This cat said, “I can be quiet as a mouse, and quite sneaky”
“I don’t cause all the mischief, yet they always blame me!”

Oh hey, sorry friend, look at the time
The hour is late; it must be near nine,
For now this tail I must briefly conclude
So good day and goodnight, see ya later dude!

Titanic

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Born in a Belfast dry dock,
Growing bigger in every way
Their sheer size was a shock
The biggest sisters of their day

People stopped and gazed
Stirring all the time
They were looking up amazed
At the flagship of the White Star Line

All aboard the people went
Their hopes were high and free
For their money was all spent
On dreams across the sea.

Full speed ahead, the captain said
A fastest journey to best
Beat this time and forget your bed,
No time for sleep or rest

Whilst crossing the ocean,
Titanic ran out of luck
A disaster was set in motion
When an iceberg was struck

The price to live was set far too high,
And many couldn’t pay
The question was and does remain, “Why
Did hundreds have to die that day?”

These mysteries are proving hard to solve
And a sad truth awaits for some
It was not for lack of money or love
That those answers may never come

Forever deep down on the ocean bed
The sinking still a mystery
We will always remember her brave dead
And their small part in Belfast history.

Hope

The thing that was broken
Has now begun to mend
My hope has been awoken
As I near journeys end

My path has been rough
And filled with much emotion
I knew it was tough
Like sailing a stormy ocean

I do not regret my past
For without it I would not be
Able to move on at last
And finally be free

I can see in plain sight
The end of my plight
The dawn has broken
Now my hope has awoken

A future lies before me
Unwritten and totally free
Whereas before I could not see
That the best is yet to be

I will give it my all
And defiant I stand
Because I will never again fall
For upon my feet I will always land

Mind Map

Mind Maps are something I came across whilst studying for my GCSEs and they have stayed with me since then.
My English teacher, Mrs Morby, told us that before we begin writing a story, we need to plan it out in our heads and visually before we begin writing as it would help us provide structure.
For example, when I was writing the Titanic poem, there were certain areas I wanted to cover such as:

  • Origins
  • Why was it going so fast
  • Something about the people boarding it
  • Collision
  • Recent history

This helped me keep on topic and gave me different areas which I wanted to cover.
But Mind Maps have also helped me when it has felt like I have too much going through my head to even think straight. It has helped me visually see connections to different things that were going through my head and which I couldn’t understand.
I approach Mind Maps in relation to Mental Health as though it was a spiders web.

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At the centre of the web is me. My life. And from it there are branches that go off into different areas of my life. The big areas from which everything else is connected. E.g. Work, Health, Home etc.

The Web pt2

From here I can break things down even more into the image you can see above. I can then see the bigger picture of what is going through my head and from here I can make connections. E.g. I enjoy outdoor photography so I can make a connection between it and my physical health as it means I have to get out and walk, which has a positive impact on my life.
At the same time I can create a box relating to my PTSD and draw connections to anywhere else in my life that it can be connected.

Connections
Suddenly this nice spiders web is no longer orderly and structured, but has connections that link different areas and it becomes quite messy.
But it does help me see those connections and through self-awareness I can either challenge those beliefs or I can pick an area to work on improving.
E.g. Coping = self-harm = physical pain = impact on my physical health as it takes time for my injuries to heal and I feel I need a way to justify them to people who may query them.
In the past I have had to do a web, such as that for my PTSD, in other areas of my life to see what the relationships are between the different groups and where those connections not only are but where they also lead.
So in the end I have an overall picture but also a more detailed picture of each specific area of my life.
Doing it this way has shown me just how complex mental health can be and how it can drastically affect different areas of my life which were seemingly unconnected. But that PTSD has its tendrils linked to every aspect of my life and personality. It’s impossible to untangle it without completely changing the person whom I am today.
In fact, the only way to remove it is to go back in time and stop my dad from being murdered; then I would be a completely different person and we delve into the realms of “what ifs” and that road only leads to pure speculation without any concrete evidence or impact on my life today.
These diagrams are just examples and simplifications of what my life is like.
Any questions, just ask 🙂

My Dragon

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My Journey began
So many years ago
Where it will end
I do not know

The scars I have
You cannot see
They are not on my skin
But hidden inside me

The rage that was bottled
Has now begun to crack
Once it shatters
There’s no going back

The fight is on
The dragon has awoken
Now its container
Has finally broken

I will beat this anger
And I will thrive
I am now stronger
And I will survive

You will not kill me
That much is true
You’ve done your worst
And I say ‘Goodbye to you!’

A Cube

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A secret hides in a little red box
Described by a word, rhyming with Ox
It awaits being mixed in many a kitchen
Into something tasty, described as bitchin

It also comes in a few different flavours
Give it more variety for us to savour
It helps make dinner time taste even better
So thank you Oxo for this little letter

Traffic Wardens

The Red Coats are coming!
The Red Coats are coming!
They’re on their way!
I know I’m in trouble
They gona make me pay

When I see them walking about
With their little machines
I love to yell at them and shout
I know what that bloody sign means!

I needed to use the bank
Told them 5 mins is all I’d be
I know it was a taxi rank
They still put a ticket on me!

I’ll yell in their faces
And tell them where to go
I’ll do it in public places
To my red coated foe

And in car parks, they’re just as bad
Sneaking around, it makes me mad
Nasty gits, always looking mean
Hiding around corners, too late to be seen

Look, I swear I bought a ticket and I hadn’t gone far
When I turned around to see him, standing at my car
Tried to say, the wind must’ve blown it down
Got a “too late mate” from the red-coated clown!!!

I mean to say, it doesn’t make sense
Getting such a large fine
For the sake of a few pence
The sneaky Red Coat swine!

I got booked again the other day
Forgot to put the latest badge on display
I said “here listen, sorry ‘bout that mate”
“It’s my fault the badge was out of date”

Warden said “hey no sweat let’s see what I can do”
And what he did next proved his word to be true
For when I showed him the badge from my other car
I won my appeal, thanks to my red-coated star

They even keep the loading bays free
For cars and trucks, to unload
Cause it really bothers me
To carry heavy stuff up the road

They are professional and polite
And very hard working
They never rise to the fight
That people are provoking

And here’s a little known fact
That some may not know
If the wardens failed to act
Our town would not grow

For poor parking would quickly spread
And the roads would start to clog
Shops would soon be dead
Because of the parking backlog

So listen up, and this is true
They are under-appreciated
Most people haven’t a clue
Just how much they are truly needed!

Sorrow

I lost my dad at the age of eight,
And this opened a secret gate.
I went down this path of sorrow,
Only to return the next day, tomorrow.
If only people knew,
Of the pain I’d gone through,
They would think twice,
And take my advice,
To stand your ground and face the threat,
Rather than run away and later regret,
That you did not make that vital stand
And someday shake the hand
That you once feared.

Garrison, Lough Lelvin, Co.Fermanagh

lough melvin (1)Let me ask you a question.  Could you name the most wonderful experience of your life? 

Most people may describe losing their virginity, others the day they met their partner.  Whatever the case, just remember and remember well!

I’m going to try and tell you about mine.  I say try, because the most wonderful experiences are ones for which words are not enough to describe, a voice does not compare too and even you cannot describe the feelings and sensations you experienced, to yourself!

It all started on a family holiday to Lough Melvin in Co. Fermanagh in 2001.  We were camping in a town called Garrison, on the shore of Lough Melvin, through which runs the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland.  ‘Twas into the last night of the trip, about 8:00pm that night, whilst my family was in the camping reception house, when I decided to go for a long walk to gather my thoughts.

As I ambled along I decided to go to the small peer jutting out into the lough. The light had begun to fade, turning the sky ever darker shades of Grey, and the wind was blowing, not strong, but enough to give a chill through the thin jacket I was wearing.

Following the shoreline, I walked into a small stone and concrete parking area and past a white van with a man and woman inside and then to the beginning of the peer.

Looking out onto the lough; the waters were dark and black. A thick carpet of cloud in the sky hid the setting sun from sight.  The mountains around me were smooth with a few white house’s dotted on them, like stars laid down onto the landscape, and the occasional row of trees marked otherwise unseen field boundaries.  I could make out the different shades of green grasses on the hillside and could tell where it was longer in some places. 

To my right I looked back at the campsite.  The few tents of different shapes and sizes, some with vehicles stationed outside, making mini boundaries, an old rock harbour big enough for the few row boats still tied there and the rocky walls being held in place by huge amounts of thick chicken wire.  As I allowed my gaze to travel I could see the large circular, red brick structure with the fresh water tap, the park with a few swings and a climbing frame, the utility shed with showers and toilets with automatic outside lighting and finally the stone wall marking the edge of the site.

In-front of me was a peer maybe 40 or 50 feet long, wide enough only for one person to walk, a metal grab rail on my left and wooden decking at my feet, turned dark brown, almost black by the fading light.  The peer was being supported by thick round, concrete pillars below, disappearing into the black swelling waters of Lough Melvin.

I started out.  Heading for a small right angled turn at the end of the peer.  As I walked, the wooden decking felt damp and slightly slippery from being soaked by the water for so long.  My hand clutched the cold metal grab rail, as I looked down I could see the black water through the gaps in the decking.  There was no way for me to know just how deep the water was should I have the misfortune to fall in.  This realisation sent a chill up my spine and played on my nerves.  But on and on I carried till I reached the end.  And I looked out at the new sight that welcomed my eyes.  I could see more of the Lough, more of the mountains and more of the setting sun.  I could see where the thick darkening carpet above me broke and allowed some of the land below to bathe in the suns warmth.  Where the carpet did break, streaks of yellow and orange light came flooding downwards and onto the mountains below.  Like the heavens above opened for a short time and allowed me to bear witness.

Fear and my now over active imagination took over and I slowly proceeded to walk back along the peer.  The planks beneath my feet did in deed feel slippery to my step.  At one point I thought I was going to fall in, but my main concern was not for my safety, but for the expensive camera I had taken with me.

Back the way I came and onto the campsite I went.  Down to the shore once again.  I found a spot just a few feet from the rocky shore, sat down on the damp grass, looked and listened to the wonders happening around me.  The sound of the water breaking on the rocks just feet from my feet (excuse the pun) and the sun still trying to break through the thick graying cloud carpet.  Eventually the grass beneath me got too wet and I went in search for another observation point. 

I found a bench made of thick wood and mounted on two concrete pillars painted white and covered in pebbles for decoration.  The dark chocolate coloured seat looked inviting when compared to my current perch. 

As I sat on the bench, I shivered both from the cold and the dampness of the seat but my discomfort was soon to be forgotten as I gazed out upon the shore waters once again.

And again I found myself lost in a world of beauty and peace. 

The clouds now threatened to rain.  I scanned the Loughs length taking in every detail my eyes could find.  On the far shore white buildings stood out like stars in the night sky.  An array of greens in varying shades marked field boundaries made of grasses, trees and bushes.

As the night progressed and the sun sank further into the distance, the cloud began to break and fracture allowing light, like gleaming blades, to shine upon the mountains.  Almost as if God himself were viewing the land.  And the waters changed colour to a deep, dark blue haze.

The evening wind started to blow, piercing my jacket and biting at my skin, and causing tiny waves to form in the waters and crashing into the rocky shoreline.     

Streaks of oil floating on the surface left behind by some unknown vessel show up like white slime trails.

In the distance mist starts to roll of the shallow mountains like a hazy tide slowly coming towards me.  Enveloping everything in its path.  The greens and browns and yellows of fields all get swallowed by the encroaching tide.

I look up at the clouds and can clearly see the different layers.  The lower parts are a light Grey turning to a graphite shale colour.  The upper levels retain a light white, still being fed by the disappearing sun.

In the furthest parts of the Lough a seemingly tiny boat can be made out only by the white colouring of its sail in contrast against the darkening Lough waters.

As I sit, I admire Mother Nature and all her glory.  I look at the watch on my wrist and it reads 21:30. Half nine at night.  I’d been watching the Lough for what seems like 15 minutes when it has actually been 90 minutes.  As I sit I think about what I had the privilege of witnessing, thoughts and feelings of peace and serenity fill my entire body extending to every nerve from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.  Mere words are not enough to describe this sensation, but it is one I shall never forget.

The gentle dripping of water on my face and jacket tell me it’s going to start to rain.  Time to go back to the tent and get a bite to eat and still think more of, what has possibly become, one of the most awakening and perfect experiences of my life and one which is likely to remain as fresh at the time of my death, as it is on that very same day in which they took place.

PTSD – Survivors Guilt

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The older i get the more I realise just how ingrained this is within myself. It’s like looking at yourself and trying to notice the details and not just the overall picture. Within your exterior, hidden in plain sight, are all these details that make up who you are and they are there if you know where to look.

I say exterior, rather than interior, because I am referring to physical clues such as tone of voice and body language. Non-verbal communication.

In my case I have a strong compulsion to punish myself for the slightest wrong that I perceive. Simple things that have caused no distress to others feel to me like they are worthy of reprimand and I MUST be punished.

Recent Example No.1

Last month my wife went on a foreign holiday with her sister for a few days. This holiday had been planned for months but only booked a matter of weeks before the actual departure. I was invited as well but I declined for practical reasons and I also saw an opportunity to spend some time doing some things I always wanted to do but couldn’t whilst my wife was here. Nothing bad, just spending some time up the coast at night (ref Kinbane Castle).

The next day, I decided to watch a couple of DVDs and to have a few drinks and let my guard and defences down. It was during this period that my wife and her sister text to ask me what I was up to and I replied via FB messenger that I was sitting naked having a few drinks and beginning to feel tipsy (I don’t know why I said this as I was sitting fully clothed) and I suddenly got a phone-call from my sister-in-law saying that my last message was sent on a group chat and that I should delete it ASAP.

Too late; I received a reply from someone who was not meant to see that message saying ‘TMI’. I deleted my message right there and then but the damage had been done. My sudden concern turned to embarrassment, even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Unfortunately this proved to be a perfect storm as not only was I starting to feel intoxicated, I also hadn’t taken my meds the day before nor on this night in question, and my embarrassment quickly turned to anger.

Suddenly, and without hesitation, I sunk my teeth into my left arm and bit myself hard enough to make my teeth ache in my gums. In an instant the alcohol that I was using to lower my guard was now my weapon of choice to further self-harm. I knew I would be sore and there was a possibility that I may have a rough night ahead of me, but I didn’t care and I felt like it was something I deserved as I was such an idiot for not being more careful about where I send my messages.

This is like the time when my dad asked me if I wanted to move to Antrim a few years before he was murdered and I said no. I know the names of the people who murdered him and I know mine is not counted amongst them and never will be.

I know I was not to blame for his death; but survivors guilt leaves its own scars and this is one of them.

I know I am being irrational in that I have nothing to feel guilty about. I know I need to stop punishing myself for every slight I do. I know I need to stop letting others make me feel guilty. I know I need to stop treating myself so badly and I know I need to stop self-harming. I know I am a nice guy with a good heart who is caring and compassionate.

But I also know that I hold myself partly to blame and that as I cannot punish the people who killed him, I CAN punish myself as the nearest substitute.

I also know that after 30+ years I need to stop this destructive behaviour as the only person I am hurting is myself…but I can’t help it. It feels wrong if I don’t punish myself; like I am letting the guilty walk free.

Recent Example No.2

I was driving home one late afternoon and I saw the lights ahead of me turning from green to yellow. I knew in a second or 2 they would be red and I need to make a decision NOW as to what action I need to take. Do I have enough time to stop safely? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

I hit the accelerator and saw the lights change from yellow to red just before I reached them. I had just went through a red light.

FUCK! STUPID STUPID BASTARD!!!

My wife had to calm me down because I didn’t cause an accident and I wasn’t caught by the authorities and I was starting to over-react in a big way over something so simple that it may go unnoticed by other people or it is the kind of thing people do all the time.

It’s what I do and whilst I can override these instincts some times…others lead me to some sort of self-harm.

I try, internally, to make them feel better by punishing myself for their wrongs rather than my own. I feel like I take upon my shoulders all the weight and troubles of the world because this is what I have been doing most of my life and, whilst it is entirely illogical, it is something I feel I am compelled to do.

I am just too bloody nice and too caring 😦