Mental Health
Poems by Peter Bushnell
A note from Peter b
I am writing this in the hope that the reader will understand they are not alone. I can’t take it away, but I can show that I go there and come back…
I regularly fall into a deep, dark, damp well of tedium, with no light to see. Depression arrives, takes off its shoes and sits down, expecting to stay.
Without warning or explanation, I am back in that place. I can see everything around me—just not life. Suddenly, the world moves sideways. Like grief without undergoing a loss. A mist concentrates into a fog, and then you can’t see your way out.
A heavy, wet blanket helps the fog hold you down, slowly taking away your resolve.
One of the hardest things is the not knowing. Your mind searches endlessly for something, anything, that might explain why you feel this way. You question your life, friends, family—the what ifs, whys and what nexts.
Everyone says, “Go for a walk. You’ll feel better.” I may feel better for the briefest of moments, a fraction of a second. Is the energy I have to use worth it?
And so you wait. You wait for tomorrow to bring something different. What are you waiting for? Will you know it when it comes? Is the postman bringing it? When might it arrive?
I am bipolar. Depression and I are old adversaries; we nod as we pass in the street. It took years to recognise that a period of darkness could have no reason I could identify. It just was.
However, I get to the other side. It takes time, and it feels as though I always have one foot on each side. But I am okay with that. My experiences have helped me see things from different perspectives.
There is a way through. Other people can help and support you, but they cannot simply make you feel differently or will things on your behalf. Finding your way does not mean having to do it alone.
If I can help, ask.
Peter b
For some reason?
Life: daily assigns me a metaphorical cup of happiness?
Sometime the cup is especially full, which I spread around joyously
Sometime the cup has barely any happiness in it
Which I sip lightly to get me through the day
Sometimes the cup is so empty the blackness makes it seem bottomless
no happiness not even one sip
I keep a slight amount of happiness but very finite
just one or two sips to get me through a day
but when the cup is blackness, it cannot be easily filled
so, I go to bed to hasten tomorrow
hoping the next day’s cup brings some sips of happiness
just a sip or two
will doTo sleep: So as to rid me of the last hours of the day bring in tomorrow I hope holds promise. putting my head on the cold side of the pillow looking forward tomorrow a day of potential I awake, eager for tomorrow but no, it is still the To-day with lots of hours still left So, I close my eyes again with hope that tomorrow is close, I wake expectant, but it is still today. Tomorrow is elusive Someone has put the clock into a jar of treacle Then put the treacle jar in molasses, thick molasses. I lay looking at the clock, gradually falling to sleep Awake again! A vivid dream still continuing in my head But it is still today, today is very slowly rolling to its end I lay thinking, hoping tomorrow will be different, Better It is still today, will today never end I fall to sleep still looking at the clock I think the clock has stopped, all the molasses I awake it is two minutes into the tomorrow The day is finally over. Tomorrow has arrived I still have 6 hours of tomorrow before getting up I fall a sleep with the clock still in the molasses Awake again, tomorrow has become today And its just starting- moving slowing. I hopeful that tomorrow is going to be better
I saw a stranger in the reflection of a shop window It was me I looked worried alone isolated It was I in the shop window There were humans all around talking, chatting living But I was alone Everyone had a purpose, was busy, was doing Except me I was alone as a reflection within the shop window Noise from the humans was deafening roaring around me I was quiet & small, there for no reason All these humans have a purpose were doing stuff Not me Time is so long - 24 years a day of nothing Going on is a struggle I know so well Too well
The shop was old Dust and webs are now the wealth of the shop The girl was rocking quietly in the boys arms The boy was holding her like his first dance They rocked together slowly. Like they new what a dance was But had just never done one They where alone in all directions They moved slowly starting to turn Dancing but did not know how But wanted to Gently he said Will marry in a white church. Can a wear white she whispers Yes, so shall I We will live in the mountains He could feel her smile The still rocked and turned they were still holding each other softly the shop was sort of quite the wind was moving the windows slowly the two continues to rock and turn on the spot will we have food she asked yes, will live on cheese and tomato sandwiches he could feel her beaming smile we work for the good people gazing at the moon in the evening we will have wine each year the girl pulled in closer it will be a good life with clean clothes each week helping each other the two rocked and turns thinking how great this would be watching the moon nightly and having exotic food their own little hut on a mountain you will die on the beach peacefully in my arms as the sun is going down I will die of a broken heart the next day as the sun come up It will be peacefully The boy stands back very slowly leans forward kisses the girl so very lightly on the forehead So gently he does not disturb the dust He turns and walks out the door She still trying to hold the air around her Trying to hold on the moment She murmurs it was a great life Her eyes are wet as she wipes them This makes a clean area around her eye She picks up the bag the boy has left Abruptly she Turns and walked out the door opposite The wind rushes in blowing way the moment The girl stops holding the door its nearly too much But she is needed and
“BE WHATEVER YOU WANT!” A tiny bad fairy, enjoying the mirth, Granted that wish all over the earth. And the very next morning, as earth turned a bit, Everyone climbed out of bed— And into the life they had dreamed of instead. Pop stars and actors, Dancers and prancers, Kings and queens, Princes and princesses, All shiny and new. Twenty million prime ministers Turned up for work, With not a civil servant in sight. There were presidents everywhere, But none had bodyguards. They had all become belly dancers. Eight billion people were ready for television. But there were no crews, No lights, No technicians. And worse— No one wanted to watch. Everyone was delighted. For a little while. Then somebody wanted breakfast. The supermarkets were empty. Nobody had delivered anything. Nobody was working in the fields. Nobody was packing food in the factories. There were plenty of celebrity chefs, But very little to put in the pan. The rubbish was piling up. No bin crews. No road sweepers. Nobody down in the sewers. The hotels had famous guests And nobody to change the beds. There were doctors—plenty of doctors— But no one bringing meals, Washing sheets Or cleaning the wards. No ambulance crews came. No mortuary staff. Even the undertakers Had found something else they would rather be. The kings and queens called for their servants. Their servants were kings and queens too. Everyone was far too grand. They all had double firsts From Cambridge or Oxford. Someone else could clear up. The fairy laughed harder and harder, Until a passing seagull, Mistaking her for a chip, Swallowed her. Which rather put an end To asking her to sort it out. Then a curious thing happened. Some actors announced a new production. A very realistic play. Performed all around the town. They would play cleaners. Helpers. Ordinary people getting through the day. They began with the hospital. They scrubbed the floors Like old convent nuns, Though with rather more swearing. Down on their knees, Wiping sweat from their brows, They acted their hearts out. And all the time they were thinking What they would say When they collected their awards. But the floors became clean. Other actors took parts As drivers and kitchen staff. Someone put on overalls And gave a convincing performance Of a person collecting rubbish. The rubbish disappeared. The kings and queens decided They ought to be among their people, And started working in supermarkets. With their crowns on, of course. The television personalities Wanted to be filmed in big trucks. They began delivering food. The belly dancers Learned to drive the trains. The princes and princesses Just wanted to be princes and princesses, Thank you very much. But enough people had started. Food arrived. Clean sheets reached the wards. The streets began to look like streets again. Everyone still had their dreams. Some wore theirs to work. And perhaps that was the bit The wish had left out. You can want to be anything. You may even get there. But very, very few of us Get to be that thing Every hour of every day. There are meals to make, Floors to clean, People to care for, And things that will not happen Unless somebody does them. Even a king Can put the bins out. We have to make a life together While making a life of our own.
Grey Days
Fighting the haze enclosing my bed, Brain haze, thick. I have not a view on today. This day, this new time. Yesterday has gone. Tomorrow is a millennium away. Life will brighten tomorrow, I've been told. But it's today. What day is it today? What is it I need to do? It all appears to mean so little to me. It's a day like other grey days. Am I doing something today? Is today going to be real? Or is today going to be grey? A day of grey today. A day of greyness. The greyness of grey days. My soul is grey. Actually, my mind is darker grey. It's a foggy grey. Foggy mind. Grey day. The sun is shining outside. The foggy grey day is in here. It's me. Life will brighten tomorrow, I've been told. Before.
What makes a good day?
It doesn’t have to be perfect.
Sometimes it’s a conversation, a quiet moment, or something that brings a small smile.
A little kindness may make someone’s day easier. That kindness can include yourself.
And if today is hard, you don’t have to pretend otherwise.
You may not change the whole world today.
But you might make someone’s corner of it a little brighter.
A thought from Peter b