Depression

Last chat with mum; aged 24 (me, aged 24)

Last chat with mum; aged 24 (me, aged 24)

By jfarrell

 

“now he’s dead, I gotta ask….

“was he my dad? Truly???”

…. “yes”

 

This is my mum responding….

Her and the ‘truth’….

If she told me water’s wet and leafs are green…

I’d have to check….

….my mum truly believed her lies…

Really…

 

She didn’t get kicked out of the milkman’s house…

1 am in the morning

And walked home naked with her 7 year old daughter screaming at her

What a w……. she was…

No….

My ‘dad’ was flirting with the barmaid again…

….

I was there; I know what happened…

 

But,

She really, truly believes her lies.

 

“was he my dad?”

“yes”

….

 

Deep breath…

Disappointment, anger, relief?

Who knows?

But….

What I asked next was really, REALLY stupid!

A very bad idea…

But

How could I know?

 

“Ok… ish… he’s my dad…”

 

Long silence, couple of minutes?… less?… more?…

 

“what happened back ‘then’? when I was 5? 6?

When uncle brian raped me?

….….

….. we haven’t spoken in nearly 10 years… what you all did hurt….

What happened?”

 

“your dad told me you’d raped your cousin”

…...

“i was 5…?… 6…?….

…. I wasn’t even physically capable…. 5…6…”

 

 

“that’s what your dad told me.”

 

A couple of deep breaths, from me…

Several seconds…. a minute or two…

Felt like f…. centuries….

 

….”and I believed him.”

 

NOT an added aside, an intentional thrust with a stiletto…

Not an attempt to move in for the kill…

On an already injured, badly bleeding target…

No….

She was just being honest.

 

….OK…

 

“nan, uncle peter…. di…..”

“well of course I told them about it!”

…..

At least I had the sense to shut up then and not ask if that’s..

What she told her friends…

 

…..

 

Haven’t seen or spoken or had anything to do with my ‘mum’

Since that day…

Over 25 years ago…

I will be 50 in a couple of weeks…

My anger, bitterness, hurt….

…..that little mother to son chat….

Is killing me

Poisoning me, like a virus …..

That hate, anger….

Wanting to hurt back…

 

….

Maybe my mum had mental health problems….

I don’t know….

But..

To so totally, absolutely believe… agree…

At 5… 6… years old…

“your son raped his cousin”….

 

I don’t totally believe that’s the WHOLE truth…

I will happily call my scumbag ‘dad’ a lot of names…

But.. ‘Liar’ isn’t one that would be honest….

….

 

…”and I believed him.”….

 

I don’t know….

Have spent all my pointless life trying to imagine….

WHAT I DID….

That was so bad…

That…

At the age of 5 or 6….

… my mum hated me SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much,

“and I believed him.”

 

 

Maybe she’s right ;-)

After all,

Who knows a man better than his mother?

 

I wish I could forgive and forget…

I wish I could be a son….

I wish I had a mother….

…..

And,

I so wish I wasn’t me…

But…

These are the hands we are dealt.

 

Sadly….

 

I fear my bitterness, anger….

Absolute f…… rage…

…after I die….

My hate will continue.

….

Other than my mum, who can rot in hell…

 

 

PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL YOU LOVELY WONDERFUL READERS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

20 years of therapy, 40+ years of pain and bitterness..

poetry is a salve, a poultice, i could never have imagined....

Loneliness

Loneliness is being in the room with your love,

And realizing that there is no love in the room.

 

Loneliness is having a nightmare in bed,

And rolling over to realize that the dream was warmer than real life.

 

When I needed you

You weren't there

When I had to trust you

You broke my trust

When I held you up

You knocked me down

When I gave you everything

You took it all away

 

Loneliness is wanting to be understood,

But realizing that no-one else

Has the time or patience to discover

Who you really are

Relapse

I've come to the realisation:

Depression is like an addiction,

Always the chance of relapse.

It would be so easy, perhaps.

 

So easy to fall back into old routines:

Anxiety and the influence of fiends;

The familiar melancholy, just one sip;

Surrender to the incessant drip, drip, drip.

 

Existence is a losing battle,

Watching people slaughtered like cattle.

To lose one's faith - to lose resilience

Would be surrender to life's persistence.

At The End Of My Rope

Stuck in this place

Full of empty space

Where the deafening silence

Awaits a verbal embrace

 

Just one utterance of hope

To be given the strength to cope

And I will unwind the noose

From the end of my rope

 

Just one ray of light

To regain my sight

To be able to be set free

 From all of the anger and fright

 

Unable to bear

This mask of shame I now wear

To keep living this lie

That anyone will even care

 

But now it’s too late

My feet now fully off the crate

And my body is now free

 

From my minds loathing and self hate

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Lucky

Lucky

By jfarrell

 

Me, I’m lucky;

I still gotta roof over my head (just);

Unlike the several poor souls I passed;

Wrapped in cardboard, in shop doorways

 

On my way home from work;

At 3am;

With last night being so cold and wet as it was;

I may forget it often, but I am

 

Lucky.

 

Even luckier than the chief executive,

Who’s getting £90 million bonus, this year;

So much responsibility;

All that money.

 

Seriously; I’d drink it, maybe buy a toy, and get bored with it;

The dude who is getting it… why…

He’ll use the money - new house, cars, holidays;

He’ll spread it around, recirculate it.

 

Lucky.

 

I do what I can; couple quid here, cup of coffee there;

On £7.50 an hour (£8.50, if I get a ‘rich’ booking)

There’s too many for me to feed.

But, I do what I can.

 

The difference between me and that executive?

He’ll buy things, spread it around; more people would benefit;

I’d drink it, and still only give a few quid here and cup of coffee there;

I may have a ‘good’ heart, but I’m a drunk.

 

Luckiest.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i've kknown sleeping on the streets - i'm lucky and i don't wanna go back there, and my heart cries out to those who have to sleep out tomight, in this weather

Duracell bunny

Duracell bunny

By jfarrell

 

I was found ‘fit for work’ about 9 months ago, now;

After 17 years overdosing, cutting wrists, hanging…

Donut jim, coward, waste of space drunk

COWARD…. useless… pointless…

 

Fit for work!

And I’m loving it!

Therapy and pills didn’t help;

And being drunk did!

 

One year from now, I will be rich and famous,

Or unknown, and, sadly, passed away (feck hanging, wrists, this time);

Work 6am til 11pm, and repeat….

I am not just “any” battery, or bunny.

 

At, £9.75 an hour,

I am a Duracell bunny;

Will,happily, work those 20 hour days ;-)

This late, in the game.

 

Maybe coward; lotsa suicides;

But I;m still here;

Drink, or work my self to death….

This late, in the game…

 

1 heart attack will do it….

 

Won’t it?

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i knew a man.. in his 60's.. pays all his pension on his rent, coz the lanlord wouldn't sign the forms for housing benefit... very nice bloke, the pensioner, i mean ;-)..but... aafter paying his rent, to a scumbag landlord, hee had to live on tea and biscuits, and whatever meals his sister could bring round...

though we telephone on birthdays (they are special occassions, after all), my sisster and i have had nothing to do with each other, since the children's home closed

 

10, 20 years from now...

i will be that old man, living on tea and biscuits....

and i'd really like to change that future

 

please help, any suggestions.... please

 

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Dragon scale gown

Dragon scale gown

By jfarrell

 

 

Dazzling…

Eyes blind - everywhere you look

Seared golden brand

Reality, a fog on the edges.

 

Shut your eyes,

The burning, golden scar of light

You still see;

Open eyes; reality still a dense fog, on the edge.

 

Light, stars, madness, pain, joy;

I don’t know how;

My dragon gave to me a cloak…

Woven from her scales.

 

When you look at me, I don’t know what you see;

I can’t see me anymore;

I see a smartly dressed waiter, bartender, food dispenser;

Not a mass murderer… gimme a machine gun!!! PLEASE!!!!

 

Light, so beautiful, you have to praise god;

Dark so powerful, you have to hope there’s a devil;

OMFG!!!! my dragon is so beautiful! More real!!!!

…. but I KNOW your’s are more beautiful, and breathtakingly stunning…

 

Please, SHOW ME!

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

mission impossible masks - rip off the waiter, bartender still here;

rip off that mask....

want cookie with your coffee...

or fries with you hamburger?.....

drunk, stoned, i got so many masks

no-one's gonna find my ghost ;-)

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

musings on time

the world is not as small as I used to believe

Nor is it as forgiving

Heroes do not refer to the morally infallible,

But to people who did the necessary, right thing at the right time

Villains, then, are not those who seek darkness, but those who have embraced darkness as a means to justify an end

Justice picks favorites,

and mercy is fleeting

There is no peace without war,

and no war without crime

Happiness is not a state of mind, but a gift from time to time

Family is not forever, for better or worse

Wickedness and violence walk closely to love and loyalty:

you are hurt more often by those you trust than by strangers

Time passses more and more quickly every year you live

Loyalty is inevitably rewarded with treachery

Goodness is fleeting, but so is viciousness

People you love will leave you,

but you in turn will leave people who love you

There is no great end to a life, only an unexpected cessation

Honor, loyalty, and duty are used to justify violence

The powerful prey on the weak

The world is not as small as I used to believe

And the passage of time corrupts the heart,

dulls the mind

and rots the body.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A lamentation for the weary who enjoy weariness

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The River

 

you thought you could get away

with all your grimy sins

perhaps you thought there's no god

perhaps you think there is

either way

it's a lone, cold fall

and the river is just a mouth

she opens wide

she's selling secrets inside

are you willing to pay the price?

 

put you back to the wall my brother

put your back to the wall my friend

put you face to the river

she opens wide to let you in

every damn day is a long damn day

but the river has no fears

whether she eats

today or tomorrow

or fasts for a hundred years

 

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