|
Ruth
DeSouza » Mental Health » Chris
McCloughen: Poems
Chris McCloughen: Poems
Chris McCloughen
has worked in mental health for over twenty years. He is a registered
psychiatric nurse and has a MN (Master of Nursing, mental health focus).
He has written poetry about mental health issues, both from the perspective
of a mental health professional and from his experience as a mental health
consumer. He is interested in the experience of mental health nurses who
have also had or have a mental illness, and may pursue this theme for
a PhD. Chris can be contacted at the following e-mail: lightraypoet@yahoo.co.nz
This page has the following poems:
|
Related pages
|
Mental
Illness
© from Flesh,
1998
During my working
life
with the mentally ill
I have learnt from textbooks
learned from my fellow
mental health professionals
but mostly I have learned about life from those
who had diagnoses such as:
Schizophrenia
Bipolar Affective
Depression
and Personality Disorder
They have challenged me to find my strengths
and to confront my fears
They have reminded me
that even during pain and loss
there can be
joy, hope and love
These are people with an illness
they are not an illness
They live not only with a diagnosis
but often with the fear and prejudice
of their family, neighbours
and society at large
These are the same people
who some have pronounced as:
demon possessed
pitiful
stupid
incapable of work
common sense
and commitment
They labour each day
many in the community
knowing they are watched
with an eye
that is ready to see the influence of an illness
in their actions
Unfortunately
the public often doesn't see
the courage
determination
hope
humour
ingenuity
and love
that many of these
who are feared
have
Finally
look at yourself
for many of us
will struggle with a mental illness
at least once in our lives.
Depression
© from Bootleg,
1999
Depression is:
- closing your eyes and seeing a loaded shotgun aimed at your head
- feeling crap in the morning to hopefully not feeling so crap in the
afternoon
- feeling triumphant when you manage to complete a task, only to be deflated
when someone criticises you for the time it has taken
Depression is:
- being cut off from joy
- feeling like crying and yelling abuse at the same time
- watching pieces of yourself fragment, so that you don't know which part
is the real you
- feeling victimised, got at and worn down
- having little hope, praying for things to improve, while experience
tells you that they won't
Depression is:
- feeling a failure as a parent, useless as a spouse, disconnected as
a friend
- wanting to find a confidant, a learned person to talk to, but everybody
seems so busy
- praying prayers that are not answered
- talking to a God who has lost your phone number
- losing the plot with the slightest bit of stress
Depression is:
- getting to the end of another day that has been wasted because you couldn't
move outside of yourself
- eating a bad diet, not exercising, and aging years in a day
- thinking of things that give you joy, but having no energy to do them
- knowing that even when you briefly experience something that gives you
joy, that the cloud of misery will return as soon as it is finished
Depression is:
- praying for bread, and having a stone smashed against your head
- praying for a fish, and having your mind filled with toxins
- praying for vision, and being covered by a fog that cannot be seen through
- praying for purpose, and feeling better off dead
Depression is:
- a thief, a liar, and a destroyer.

Ode
to melancholia
© from Private
Bin, 2001
Sadness
beneath the laughter
beyond incredulity
after the last word uttered
sadness
though we are billions
though we populate like cockroaches
scurrying
breeding
and defecating
yet we are alone
our state does not matter
single
with partners
with children
or lost
we are alone
who of the countless
on this planet
can slip inside my head
who can mesh with my mind
who can really share my fears and my beliefs
my thoughts and experiences
no one
no one at all
we are social beings
yet we are as tiny boats
atop an ocean
of independent currents and winds
we too briefly come into view of another vessel
we wave and shout something indiscernible
before again becoming separated
and we call this intimacy
we part
we separate
we lose
only grief stays
grief
called at the dawn of our lives
and never leaves
it is the unseen lodger
that exposes lies and pretence for what they are
it highlights the posturing and greed in us all
grief sees one hack another to pieces
a soldier bayonet a baby
the fat steal the last bread of the dying
money buy and pollute the land
grief observes
unrestrained hate
indiscriminate anger
pride and lust dressed in a virgins garments
grief points out
the desperation of us all
seeking approval
thirsting for acceptance
striving for purpose
grief and melancholy
are co-joined twins
one a mortician
the other an undertaker
only love is more real
but love is white gold
vanquished from a strip mined plain
while grief and melancholy are the land
poisoned with arsenic
a rough inhospitable land
whose only crop is death
melancholy is a bride stripped bare by bandits
a bride sobbing in the dirt
a bride who has lost her betrothed
to war and futility
grief is a naked couple
who never touch
they look and see
only each others faults
they have no warmth
for they cannot embrace
melancholy
is the beaten drum
of a solo drummer
marking time
during the march to bury us all
you contain the words
that each stillborn child never spoke
you are a world of unattainable possibilities
the place of abandoned dreams
you are the cry for justice
from every person
murdered, raped and made destitute
you are the tears of frustration
the chill of betrayal
the fatalistic inevitability
of mortality and disease
you are a friend
a strange shadowy friend
who gives me a cold shoulder to cry on
and a heavy misty blanket
to sleep a disturbed sleep under
melancholy
you remind me
that joy is limited
that my best
will never be good enough
that all is vanity
and that the most I can do
is to love where I can
to do that which I am able
and to be satisfied with that
melancholy
you are a moderator
a realist
and a stoic.

|