creative writing, Poems

Pictures Are Just Memories

Our pictures are just memories-
They do not live.
They lie dead on the floor.

Your fountain pen stabbed me
Each time you discarded my jewels-
You always favoured those pearls.
And yet I still remember our moments of joy.

Pictures are just memories;
They do not live.
They die slowly with time.

Copyright © C.M.H January 2015


How A Psychiatric Medication Change Can Make Things Both Worse And Better

My psychiatrist has drastically changed my medication in the past two months. He has cut my dosage of the antipsychotic Olanzapine down from 15mg a day to 5mg a day.

Some people might be surprised to hear that my medication has not been upped again despite the fact that I have been high again for the past two weeks and a bit. I have been feeling like I am on drugs, hallucinating, being very creative and seeing flashes of light and colours that I know aren’t there. I told the psychiatrist this when I saw him recently.

The positives of this medication change are that I feel much more like myself now and I am not drugged up. I feel that unlike depression, hypo/mania gives me more personality rather than taking it away. I am able to enjoy this high mood now which is great.

The negatives are that I am less balanced and even though highs can be better than lows, I also find them very hard to deal with and they can be very overwhelming.

Overall I think maybe this is a good thing. I am having to learn how to deal with high mood with minimal medication which is good as I think it’s better for me to be figuring out good ways to deal with mood changes than depending on medication. I am still not used to high moods as they have only been happening in the past year but I guess I will get used to them.


My Feelings Are A Stormy Ocean

I wrote
A suicide note
After intensity killed me.
My feelings are a stormy ocean,
My heart is made of embers and icicles.

When I wrote
Tears stained the note.
Deep, painful feelings
Destroyed my heart
And left it on the ocean floor.

My feelings are a stormy ocean,
My heart is made of fire and ice
And yet I still breathe.

Copyright © C.M.H January 2015


Life Is A Living Purgatory

My broken reflection is slowly healing
Despite the euphoric candy floss and bland nothingness
Which permeates the air.
Life is a living purgatory.

Black holes
And dark clouds surround me;
Night lives within me.
Why live with the demonic black night?

My broken reflection is slowly healing
And yet life is a living purgatory.

Copyright © C.M.H January 2015


How Relapses Can Make You Lose Sight Of Progress

I made great progress in my mental illness recovery recently. I stopped having suicidal urges and my mood was no longer mercurial; I was not depressed or manic for a week. I was myself again; my mischievous humour was back, I was no longer a ghost and life was no longer an internal inferno.

Perhaps I should have known that this progress could have been the start of a hypo/manic episode. I then became extremely energised in a day and noticed I was typing incredibly fast on my computer. I decided to go for a swim and felt like there was an electric current running through my veins as I walked to the pool. I swam like a god in comparison to normal; somehow I managed to swim 30 lengths in half an hour instead of 20.

Unfortunately I soon became low again and had the odd experience of feeling like I was on narcotics but also being very quiet and unsocial because I was depressed. I was a drugged up ghost who was hallucinating.

I also eventually had another experience of anxiety and suicidal thoughts, urged and plans came after it.

I lost sight of the progress I had made. I completely forgot about the advancements I had made in a week and focused on my then worsened mood state. I cried about how I wished I were more animated and less quiet; it seemed like I was just a shadow again.

I think maybe the reason that I forgot about my progress is that I am a very negative person. The most negative experiences always stand out to me as more significant than the positive experiences.

Also, perhaps I am being too optimistic by viewing periods of euthymia as progress. Maybe I should view the reduction of my depressive and manic symptoms as progress instead? I think that maybe I am still in denial of the fact that I am going to have to live with these highs and lows for ever now.

I am now trying to think more positively that although I am still a bit ill at least my hypo/mania is not affecting my functioning at the moment and it is not very obvious to others.

I am hoping that with medication tweaks I can further reduce my symptoms.