deepundergroundpoetry.com
Introduction Through My Complex Mind
Dear Diary... This is "My Bi-Polar Mind"
We all have a story, some happy, while others endure tragedy. I want the world to understand; we’re not a disease...there is no cure, I hope that showing my view of someone who has lived and struggled, even now, will help others be more compassionate to the more vulnerable. All I ask of you is to keep an open mind, lock up your judgements and realize we are still human beings. We have feelings like everyone else. As the human race we need to realize the facts. In your lifetime you WILL experience it, could be from someone that has it. There are many factors, Life is too short to be wasted on discrimination. We all have rights and freedom, It’s not like the days of ole, we all need to educate ourselves about what we do not understand, not belittle it.
“I’m just a statistic…
I’m just a nobody…
within a world of lots
of hate on me…”
Does this sound familiar?
Many others feel the same; never getting to speak up, or tell their story. Nobody deserves to be treated differently because they are viewed by others as a “mess.” They never get that chance for they are being judged before they even speak. In your lifetime, I guarantee you will become someone like them, someone like me. It’s not always a birth defect, it maybe a tragedy that happens, an accident, a loved one passes, a curiosity of a drug, or even just becoming a teen...suddenly you find yourself walking the darkest path in life.
As the world becomes our prison, our survival becomes our own life sentence. Living each day as though were a ticking time bomb, taking it all in to be a step ahead in knowledge. As they profit off our gain, until they realize they can’t ever get ahead off our lives. Experience show ones suffering, helpless, We all gain experience as we suffer and grow in time. Our survival becomes the reason we exist, yet our common goal is to live, breathe, learn, and love.. Why are we born the same yet so different?
Science has taught many that humans are all based on only genetics, history has proven facts to show this is not always the case. In fact, social media, tv, and our own society has been our teacher. Claiming our freedom, creating messages that perfection is the only way. Covering up their mistakes, and blaming it on the poor and new generation to come. Walking in circles... Confused, and believing we can’t change a thing...even WITH our own unique story. Growing in a womb, we’re born imperfect yet we chase only perfection. Are we mysterious, with different views, taught by a society that seeks only its perfection? Yet born unique, as some would view perfect in GOD’s eyes, otherwise we would all look the same.
Think of a moment in your life that should be a beautiful experience...the day you gave birth. Not soon after that moment turns hate, and the love turns to abandonment, all you see is a monster of yourself, and all you feel is hate and the need to destroy it...when, “it” is just an innocent child. The fruit of your loins, your once happiest time has turned your world into a fiery hell that took you over. To think you were just so happy...how would you feel if in that sudden moment, you became evil? All it was is that sudden change in hormones that shifted your mind. A couple months of assessments in a hospital, and with the help of a medication would have changed your brain waves back to a somewhat normal thinking pattern. That’s all it would have taken, if you weren’t too afraid to ask for help...imagine that happy moment would still be alive. Instead it stays buried in your mind but also buried in a grave. But you don’t know that, you still think the child’s alive...but that’s our black and white society in us, to fear the truth and think it’s normal, and that it will pass in time. If you watch the news, you see this all the time. The parent killing their child because of Bi-Polar/Schizophrenia, it’s always the ill that are to blame. I get why you all perceive us in this way; society tells us to. That’s what they want you to do, but it’s time to end this, it’s time to think for yourself and that’s what I’m writing this for... don’t you get it? I may be different, but I got the help I needed. I take my medications, and I pay attention to know my triggers. Many people won’t take the actions to get the help they need, instead we're left with pills to mask ourselves without finding the core problems. We feel stigmatized and unworthy of it. I know now I am not at fault of what happened in the past, and that helped form some of what I am today as some of it I was born with. The medications I take are some of what I need, but through the years of medical history there are other inventive ways to help these conditions, such as medical marijuana, art, music and pet therapies. Not to be judged but everybody is different.
Trust is a word used too easy, and that, people take for granted. I'm just like the girl next door. Meaning I am not famous, I am not an author; I am a girl with many mental illnesses and I look fine on the outside. I talk and see a girl ,being myself, but when I talk to you, your perspective will see the illnesses. All I want to do is help everyone the best way I can. I’m just another person on disability in society's eyes; I don't want to be a nobody, I want to be the difference! Help STOP the stigma. We never chose to have these mental illnesses, but you can choose whether to stigmatize the world…
“so what’s your choice???”
***I want to show you inside the eyes of my Mind... my Bi-Polar mind that is. I want to spread awareness, show others their not alone in this fight and show the facts of our everyday lives WITH Mental Illness. As you read any of my poems you see about mental health, please put yourself in my shoes and feel the emotions as I write. If some of it makes no sense, I am very sorry as this is what my hubby and his family struggle with. I am never understood, the pills, they help, but they don’t 100% make you normal. Since the amount of different medications tested (side effects can worsen as you get older as some never go away) and seizures I have had in my lifetime, it debilitates my mind, but I will still write. (a thesaurus is my best friend). By the last chapter, I know this will change you to be a better person. You will have more understanding, and you will want to change things in your life, and others before your time is up...
[font=Lucida]“It’s never too late to change and be a better person!”
I know trust for me is honesty. If your honest with me, I'll have trust in you.. So, I will be honest with you by telling you about me, so you can view me as a human being and trusted friend. I have many illnesses and have come from a broken home. Lived in many foster homes. My life was full of let-downs, misfortune, confusion because on one hand I had a mother that hated that I even existed. I may have been a living miracle, problem is I had to live with the consequence of being unloved by her and worse with my own father. Then becoming labeled once I became a ward of the court. Since its all I knew its what I thought was normal everyday life. If it wasn’t for my fiancé I would have nobody. I want others to understand people like myself, as sometimes I think even my fiancé doesn’t understand. It's a hard road for both the families, loved ones and the person going through their daily lives with their mental state. I’ve been in and out of psych wards, seen many people for help, and been through a lot of different medications to get to where I am today. It’s a struggle daily still even as I write, but I am doing this to help you understand how we feel inside. Knowledge to help you with another perspective, and to show you that being viewed this way wont debilitate me, only make me stronger as I want others to do the same. So help me bring the change we so lack in this world.
Should I blame it on the government? What will that do? No, only give me more grief than needed. Instead I’ll be the better person and make a change. They could have helped me the moment they took over care for me, instead they chose medications, hoping it would dismiss the problem as if it were a band-aid. So, now I hope with all the mistakes made, maybe now they can use other methods, so this happens less to others. I always hated the psychiatrist and psychologists I had, as they came from a good family with money, I think I envied them more then hate. Took me a very long time to finally find a psychiatrist that actually does care about helping me and my mind. One that never says those words so freely "I know how you feel". Why you ask… because nobody can know unless they went through it! So I can write this book as I understand and have the knowledge to help. My thoughts are if you read it through my eyes, someone who’s been through it and going through it, maybe now you can take what I’m writing on a more serious level. The life I've lived was full of hate. I know now that things happen for a reason, it makes you stronger, wiser, and you become better for it. They say to forgive others and it will set you free. I feel that phrase just sometimes is not true. Or maybe for me it’s a not win. I can forgive most of what’s happened, except I can’t forgive my father. I never will even if it means I’m never free. I don’t see it that way. I won’t be free from what he did, since in my eyes freeing someone of the guilt means what he did was ok. He will go to his grave with this still, as guilt and if it means I’m not 100% free for it, then so be it. He will always be the monster in my room, and he will never leave my nightmares to this day. What he did is not forgivable…[/font]
“The purpose of me writing this for anyone to read is to show you...
We’re not contagious, there is no cure.
This can be you today, tomorrow, next month or even years from now."
I say this not to scare you in any way, but we are all born to die. No one knows when, why or even how. Losing a loved one can be a traumatic experience, and it’s okay to reach out and ask for help. Everything I write is to help others that are suffering, families trying to make sense and understand what they're feeling, and help them go through it together. It’s something they won’t or might not understand. So, think to yourself when you laugh at someone who’s in a vegetative state, that could have been you in that accident.
“would you want to lie there till you die of old age?”
Can’t speak, move... but you can hear and think about time.
You can’t even tell them to pull that DAMN plug…
So now’s your chance…
I just want to be the change in this world. ive been walked on enough in my life and now im done being the rug and enjoy staying clean.
Ill end it all with a quote I wrote:
"At present time there is no cure, nor fix, for my condition
an independent ailing mind invoking frightening vision
robbing me of needed sleep, effecting heart's attrition
while avalanche of mix-matched thoughts bury intuition
I'm in a struggle to hang on, while readying to die
and with each breath I do grow weak, become as fragile child
I hurt, I cry, I stomp my feet, then snort into my high
and for a few surreal secs, I don't have to try
Yet all it takes is one small glimpse into a broken mirror
to see the lost soul trapped within and shed a grieving tear
for me I will not ever see your eyes not filled with fear
and my ill brain is all I have and all i'll ever hear."
Joanna Ryan-McDonald
We all have a story, some happy, while others endure tragedy. I want the world to understand; we’re not a disease...there is no cure, I hope that showing my view of someone who has lived and struggled, even now, will help others be more compassionate to the more vulnerable. All I ask of you is to keep an open mind, lock up your judgements and realize we are still human beings. We have feelings like everyone else. As the human race we need to realize the facts. In your lifetime you WILL experience it, could be from someone that has it. There are many factors, Life is too short to be wasted on discrimination. We all have rights and freedom, It’s not like the days of ole, we all need to educate ourselves about what we do not understand, not belittle it.
“I’m just a statistic…
I’m just a nobody…
within a world of lots
of hate on me…”
Does this sound familiar?
Many others feel the same; never getting to speak up, or tell their story. Nobody deserves to be treated differently because they are viewed by others as a “mess.” They never get that chance for they are being judged before they even speak. In your lifetime, I guarantee you will become someone like them, someone like me. It’s not always a birth defect, it maybe a tragedy that happens, an accident, a loved one passes, a curiosity of a drug, or even just becoming a teen...suddenly you find yourself walking the darkest path in life.
As the world becomes our prison, our survival becomes our own life sentence. Living each day as though were a ticking time bomb, taking it all in to be a step ahead in knowledge. As they profit off our gain, until they realize they can’t ever get ahead off our lives. Experience show ones suffering, helpless, We all gain experience as we suffer and grow in time. Our survival becomes the reason we exist, yet our common goal is to live, breathe, learn, and love.. Why are we born the same yet so different?
Science has taught many that humans are all based on only genetics, history has proven facts to show this is not always the case. In fact, social media, tv, and our own society has been our teacher. Claiming our freedom, creating messages that perfection is the only way. Covering up their mistakes, and blaming it on the poor and new generation to come. Walking in circles... Confused, and believing we can’t change a thing...even WITH our own unique story. Growing in a womb, we’re born imperfect yet we chase only perfection. Are we mysterious, with different views, taught by a society that seeks only its perfection? Yet born unique, as some would view perfect in GOD’s eyes, otherwise we would all look the same.
Think of a moment in your life that should be a beautiful experience...the day you gave birth. Not soon after that moment turns hate, and the love turns to abandonment, all you see is a monster of yourself, and all you feel is hate and the need to destroy it...when, “it” is just an innocent child. The fruit of your loins, your once happiest time has turned your world into a fiery hell that took you over. To think you were just so happy...how would you feel if in that sudden moment, you became evil? All it was is that sudden change in hormones that shifted your mind. A couple months of assessments in a hospital, and with the help of a medication would have changed your brain waves back to a somewhat normal thinking pattern. That’s all it would have taken, if you weren’t too afraid to ask for help...imagine that happy moment would still be alive. Instead it stays buried in your mind but also buried in a grave. But you don’t know that, you still think the child’s alive...but that’s our black and white society in us, to fear the truth and think it’s normal, and that it will pass in time. If you watch the news, you see this all the time. The parent killing their child because of Bi-Polar/Schizophrenia, it’s always the ill that are to blame. I get why you all perceive us in this way; society tells us to. That’s what they want you to do, but it’s time to end this, it’s time to think for yourself and that’s what I’m writing this for... don’t you get it? I may be different, but I got the help I needed. I take my medications, and I pay attention to know my triggers. Many people won’t take the actions to get the help they need, instead we're left with pills to mask ourselves without finding the core problems. We feel stigmatized and unworthy of it. I know now I am not at fault of what happened in the past, and that helped form some of what I am today as some of it I was born with. The medications I take are some of what I need, but through the years of medical history there are other inventive ways to help these conditions, such as medical marijuana, art, music and pet therapies. Not to be judged but everybody is different.
Trust is a word used too easy, and that, people take for granted. I'm just like the girl next door. Meaning I am not famous, I am not an author; I am a girl with many mental illnesses and I look fine on the outside. I talk and see a girl ,being myself, but when I talk to you, your perspective will see the illnesses. All I want to do is help everyone the best way I can. I’m just another person on disability in society's eyes; I don't want to be a nobody, I want to be the difference! Help STOP the stigma. We never chose to have these mental illnesses, but you can choose whether to stigmatize the world…
“so what’s your choice???”
***I want to show you inside the eyes of my Mind... my Bi-Polar mind that is. I want to spread awareness, show others their not alone in this fight and show the facts of our everyday lives WITH Mental Illness. As you read any of my poems you see about mental health, please put yourself in my shoes and feel the emotions as I write. If some of it makes no sense, I am very sorry as this is what my hubby and his family struggle with. I am never understood, the pills, they help, but they don’t 100% make you normal. Since the amount of different medications tested (side effects can worsen as you get older as some never go away) and seizures I have had in my lifetime, it debilitates my mind, but I will still write. (a thesaurus is my best friend). By the last chapter, I know this will change you to be a better person. You will have more understanding, and you will want to change things in your life, and others before your time is up...
[font=Lucida]“It’s never too late to change and be a better person!”
I know trust for me is honesty. If your honest with me, I'll have trust in you.. So, I will be honest with you by telling you about me, so you can view me as a human being and trusted friend. I have many illnesses and have come from a broken home. Lived in many foster homes. My life was full of let-downs, misfortune, confusion because on one hand I had a mother that hated that I even existed. I may have been a living miracle, problem is I had to live with the consequence of being unloved by her and worse with my own father. Then becoming labeled once I became a ward of the court. Since its all I knew its what I thought was normal everyday life. If it wasn’t for my fiancé I would have nobody. I want others to understand people like myself, as sometimes I think even my fiancé doesn’t understand. It's a hard road for both the families, loved ones and the person going through their daily lives with their mental state. I’ve been in and out of psych wards, seen many people for help, and been through a lot of different medications to get to where I am today. It’s a struggle daily still even as I write, but I am doing this to help you understand how we feel inside. Knowledge to help you with another perspective, and to show you that being viewed this way wont debilitate me, only make me stronger as I want others to do the same. So help me bring the change we so lack in this world.
Should I blame it on the government? What will that do? No, only give me more grief than needed. Instead I’ll be the better person and make a change. They could have helped me the moment they took over care for me, instead they chose medications, hoping it would dismiss the problem as if it were a band-aid. So, now I hope with all the mistakes made, maybe now they can use other methods, so this happens less to others. I always hated the psychiatrist and psychologists I had, as they came from a good family with money, I think I envied them more then hate. Took me a very long time to finally find a psychiatrist that actually does care about helping me and my mind. One that never says those words so freely "I know how you feel". Why you ask… because nobody can know unless they went through it! So I can write this book as I understand and have the knowledge to help. My thoughts are if you read it through my eyes, someone who’s been through it and going through it, maybe now you can take what I’m writing on a more serious level. The life I've lived was full of hate. I know now that things happen for a reason, it makes you stronger, wiser, and you become better for it. They say to forgive others and it will set you free. I feel that phrase just sometimes is not true. Or maybe for me it’s a not win. I can forgive most of what’s happened, except I can’t forgive my father. I never will even if it means I’m never free. I don’t see it that way. I won’t be free from what he did, since in my eyes freeing someone of the guilt means what he did was ok. He will go to his grave with this still, as guilt and if it means I’m not 100% free for it, then so be it. He will always be the monster in my room, and he will never leave my nightmares to this day. What he did is not forgivable…[/font]
“The purpose of me writing this for anyone to read is to show you...
We’re not contagious, there is no cure.
This can be you today, tomorrow, next month or even years from now."
I say this not to scare you in any way, but we are all born to die. No one knows when, why or even how. Losing a loved one can be a traumatic experience, and it’s okay to reach out and ask for help. Everything I write is to help others that are suffering, families trying to make sense and understand what they're feeling, and help them go through it together. It’s something they won’t or might not understand. So, think to yourself when you laugh at someone who’s in a vegetative state, that could have been you in that accident.
“would you want to lie there till you die of old age?”
Can’t speak, move... but you can hear and think about time.
You can’t even tell them to pull that DAMN plug…
So now’s your chance…
I just want to be the change in this world. ive been walked on enough in my life and now im done being the rug and enjoy staying clean.
Ill end it all with a quote I wrote:
"At present time there is no cure, nor fix, for my condition
an independent ailing mind invoking frightening vision
robbing me of needed sleep, effecting heart's attrition
while avalanche of mix-matched thoughts bury intuition
I'm in a struggle to hang on, while readying to die
and with each breath I do grow weak, become as fragile child
I hurt, I cry, I stomp my feet, then snort into my high
and for a few surreal secs, I don't have to try
Yet all it takes is one small glimpse into a broken mirror
to see the lost soul trapped within and shed a grieving tear
for me I will not ever see your eyes not filled with fear
and my ill brain is all I have and all i'll ever hear."
Joanna Ryan-McDonald
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