Me, circa 1969.

Poem #8

Mental health underpins everything I write.

It has taken the best part of fifty years to get a sensible, rational handle on my mental health issues. In no particular order they include depression, anxiety, disassociative amnesia, excoriation and self-harm (both physical and mental). I also have issues with self-esteem, self-worth and body image.

Very early on, even that young over there, I knew I was Different. The world never really worked for me, at any point. I’m waiting for the possibility of an ASD diagnosis on the NHS. It’s been over a year now: it took us four years to get to the top of the pile for NHS Dentistry with the youngest. I know how this works.

In the meantime, poetry is decent therapy. It also helps to inspire and challenge people, especially when it comes to their own ideas of what Normal really means. I can’t be anybody else than I am, after all. If you’re offended at what I do, that’s your problem and not mine.

There’s a lot to take in right now. Music helps.

%d bloggers like this: