Mental Health

The Off Grid Life

the off-grid life.

untied from the shackles of strife,

2017, the modern existence,

getting on the property ladder, how does anyone have a chance?
20, 25 or 30, forced to work to pay every bill,

going to work all hours, struggling to find a way, a life against our will,

needing the money from any form of work, mostly unprogressive, unhappy 
life passing by, frustrating, anger, decreasing self-worth, causing individuals to be snappy

unfulfilled, potentials are not met, working a job all day, unable to progress,

money is the key factor, for bills to be met, let me digress.

often they still aren't causing pain and suffering, stress and depression,

homelessness is rife through the country, a feeling of regression,

a feeling of being stuck, how to retrain and improve your careers?
speak to friends or family and the same conversation, doubts, and fears
if only another option was available,

one that was accepted and not just for the vulnerable,

the homeless, the people with nothing,

but how is this existence different? it is truly crushing,

once you can see that your life is consumed with working for money,

the soul has passed, your energy too, it can get so hard it's not even funny,

but who understands? in the face of consumerism, higher purchase, loans, and debt,

who is living a life, truly satisfied, and their dreams are met?

Not all people living off-grid are rich in cash!
but they aim for other needs; security in food & energy, it's worth a bash,


 

a growing transition for many people too,

it's not just for the hippies, the spiritual, it's for people like me and you,

think about it for a moment or two...

who would you be without your car, house and your possessions?
is that person you portray the real you? or do you blend in so people don't ask questions?
are you honest with your family and friends?

or do you sit behind a desk wishing it would end?
there is a wealth of knowledge of old traditions,

from a time when they lived without these conditions,

the conditions of social media, advertising, marketing ads or vlogs

when screen time didn't consume every waking hour, and children were fascinated with tadpoles transforming into frogs.

hours spent outside, climbing trees, playing at the park,

not allowed home unless it was tea time or had gotten dark.

 

a shift is happening, ecotherapy, wild schooling, bushcraft, and hikes,

forest schooling, homeschooling, people walking and out on their bikes,

scientists are noticing the effects on children's behaviors, reduced health issues,

ADHD,  also a boost in self-awareness, positivity, confidence and mental health issues

is it easier to sit a child down to hours in front of the tv, or ipad?

than it is to spend a few hours playing down the park with dad?

or baking a cake with mum, the importance of these skills are being misplaced,

in this consumerism world, with employees a number, in a life so fast-paced.

 

Off-grid living, the communities hidden away,

all they want is a parcel of land to look after their needs, but hey,

that's not possible, 'cause where will the local council get their tax,

with the community, living off the land, growing food and chopping wood with an axe,

the need and usage of government-owned services would become minute,

living simply and within your skills of the land, renewables used, an abundance of fruit,

food preserved in many forms, jams and chutneys, frozen meat,

enough food to last year-round to survive through winter, or in the heat,

the food produced off the land, tending the garden, and grown for nutrition,

the most important for life and health also said to aid in remission.

off grid homesteaders, don't need to take the flack,

with health as the focus, working outdoors to provide, lowering the need for prozac,
comments from shallow minded people need not be said,

the power of community, working together, I want to spread,

to include children in the transition, of conserving nature and our wildlife,

 

the tranquil setting amongst the seasons, watching the stars, that's my type of nightlife.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my first time sharing my poetry, (after a few friends encouraged me that I should) please be kind and send your thoughts.

Also all words are opinions of myself in the modern world that we live in. 

This is not meant to cause offense, harm, upset to anyone, and if it does please understand that is not my intention.

 

Many thanks,

If…

If…

By jfarrell

 

   (in regards to Rudyard Kipling’s masterpiece)

 

If…

You’re still standing, after all this time;

After all these many battles and defeats;

If…

When they rub salt in your wounds,

You can lick it out and spit it back at them;

If….

When they kick your legs from under you, you get up;

Because you’re too stupid to stay down;

If…

 

If only life had been nicer;

Seaside and ice cream;

Hugs and kisses from mum and dad

 

But…

But a lot of things;

And none of them matter

After all this time.

 

If…

If you can’t get even, get drunk;

So drunk, how much it hurts don’t matter;

If…

You’re sleeping ‘out’ tonight;

Keep warm, it’s gonna be a cold one;

If…

I, we, all cared more,

And life was very different from what it is;

If….

John Lennon invited us to imagine;

And we could all imagine that dream enough to share it.

 

What if….?

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i hope if was rudyard kipling, or i really messed that up, hehe :-) i relly should check my stuff first

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Heal, damn you

Heal, damn you

By jfarrell

 

It is 7 weeks before my 50th birthday

And I just want my depression gone. Forever;

This illness’, this ‘condition’; this curse;

Heal, damn you! Let it go.

 

After 38 years, you’d think it’d be cured by now;

All the money and time spent in therapy;

Or I’d have learned to accept it;

Heal, damn you! I need to live.

 

With no cure, I grow very old, alone,

Living off tea and biscuits because it’s all I can afford;

Who’d want that?

Heal, damn you! Don’t condemn me to that.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

my mind is my prison - but i found a sledge hammer :-)

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Walk in my shoes, then judge me

Walk in my shoes, then judge me

By jfarrell

 

3 months short of my 50th birthday;

My sister, we telephone on birthdays, for 10 minutes;

My last friend, I invited him to my 50th birthday party….

My first ever birthday party; he says…

don’t be so negative at your birthday party…

Guess that party’s cancelled.

 

I have no friends or family;

I work, I sleep, I work more;

I’m not horrible person

I’m not the lowest common denominator,

Though I thought I was , for a long time

 

You see me dancing on the tube;

Lost in me own personal concert;

Madman, weirdo, freak;

If I’m about to be blown up by a bomb,

I’m gonna die dancing

 

What possible right could you have to judge me?

Walk in my shoes for a week…..

None of you could….

That incessant need to talk, gosssip,

Fill the silence with meaningless platitudes

 

Alone!

Silent!

Only myself, the radio and the cats to shout at.

None of you would last one single week.

But, at 49, I’m still here.

Sadder than all of you? Or stronger? Madder?

And what does it or anything matter?

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

yep, sorry, recovering drunk spewing up everywhere, very sorry for offence caused

Still Standing

Still Standing

By jfarrell

 

For me,

It’s childhood rape and violent child abuse;

For some,

It’s drugs, alcohol, food, stealing;

For some,

It’s cancer, organ failure…

Horrendous stuff I can’t,

And probably, don’t want to imagine.

 

But

WE ARE STILL STANDING, STILL HERE!

Today sucked less than yesterday,

But,

You know what?

It was an improvement;

However unnoticeable, however slight it was.

We are still standing! You, me, all of us.

 

And,

It may be all you have right now!

I know 20 years I tried to kill myself;

And I’m still standing;

Lots of you are like me, despite how alone I feel;

We are all STILL standing, after all this time;

Survive? Stop standing - walk!

One step in any direction, and keep walking.

 

Fuck surviving!

I deserve;

I’ve worked and sacrificed for a life!

Not to survive.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i deserve a life! wife, kids, and donuts! i'm sick of being a survivor, i demand more :-)

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Labels

Labels

By jfarrell

 

I lost mine for a long time,

But labels define us; me, certainly;

Dad, mum, lawyer, thief;

What we do, what we call ourselves, define us.

 

I used to be a nursery officer,

I worked with young children,

For those unfamiliar with the term,

Then I was ill, and had no label for a long time.

 

For 17 years I was nothing, maybe still am;

Waste of space drunk became my label;

Mentally ill, depressed, this abbreviation and that abbreviation;

None of them defined me, just made me feel useless.

 

Now, I’m like a duracell bunny;

Some days I’m a barman; some, a waiter;

And I’m stretching labels in between;

I have a definition, a purpose, after so long.

 

Important labels I don’t have;

Father, husband, friend;

But, I now have a label that gives me definition;

Note to self: THIS IS NOT THE DESTINATION!

IT’S ONLY THE BEGINNING OF THE JOURNEY

 

Thanks all for listening :-)

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

break on through to the other side, break on through, break on through - the doors i think, or i maybe thinking of  wrong song, hehe

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The effects of child abuse on you

The effects of child abuse on you

By jfarrell

 

I speak of me and my experiences and abuse;

I have no right, or claim, to speak on behalf of others;

Hopefully, this echoes what they may say

And explains why you must listen and stop child abuse.

 

The effect on me;

I cut myself off from my family, my sister;

I didn’t want to pass the abuse on, and I had started;

No friends, alone all my life.

Depression and several suicide attempts.

 

The effect on you, society, tax payers;

My being in care cost upwards of about £500 a week, back then

Double that, my sister’s in care with me;

The years spent in therapy,

In mental hospitals, in A&E after suicide attempts.

And that’s not mentioning the 20 years spent on the sick;

Too ill to work.

 

And that’s just me.

Thousands, tens of thousands of pounds of your money;

Spent on helping me overcome my pain and become a ‘survivor’;

Trust me, in my shoes, this ain’t surviving…

 

And I’m a ‘safe’ victim;

I can only internalise what I feel and hurt myself;

I can’t hit others, get high on crack and turn to crime;

Get drunk and beat my wife and kids like dad did;

I’ve never taken the risk of having a wife and family.

Having no-one, I can hurt no-one.

 

What we go through does affect you. Now and in the future.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

our parents don't mean to **** us up, but they do - i don't rememeber the poet's name, Phillip Larkin?, but, words, so true

The Inner me

The Inner me

By jfarrell

 

Like Dorian Grey, my face looks normal; nothing remarkable;

My arms and torso, always hidden, would reveal a little;

But I always stay covered, I need to hide those marks of my life;

Like Dorian Gray, the inner, hidden-in-the-attic, portrait;

There my life is captured, and stored, in glorious technicolour.

 

The night I cut my wrists; that first overdose of sleeping pills;

My rape when I was 5; another cut, another pill;

My mum’s infidelity; another cut another pill;

Every violence by my father, everytime I was bullied at school;

Another cut, another pill.

 

On the outside, I am unremarkable, instantly forgettable;

But, my hidden portrait;

One look will haunt you, forever;

It’s very horror would scar you, taint you, forever.

I just wish I had the guts to live as selfishly as Dorian Gray. Sometimes.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'd very much like to be a different shade of grey please

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Peeling the onion

Peeling the onion

By jfarrell

 

My story, my history

Will come out, layer by layer

Within my poetry

And much of it you won’t like;

“let’s leave those horrors for scary stories”

Like peeling an onion, the deeper you go

The more intense it is

 

When I started writing poetry recently

I upset my sister with it;

It’s stuff she’s got over and buried in the past;

And she is the only one of my relatives I give a stuff about;

But she doesn’t believe that

She believes I stay away out of hate and spite;

I stay away coz I seem to hurt everything I touch

I promised her I wouldn’t write personal stuff

 

Sorry, but I’ve got to break that promise

I write for me, I have to write my story

And I have to write it my way

You can choose to not read

But you cannot tell me not to write;

You found your peace;

I’m still searching for mine.

I need to peel this onion.