I wrote you a love poem but all you could say was thank you.

My expression of adoration rejected and everything’s the same

Except it isn’t –

The word friend is tattooed on my wrist.

You write poetry too 

But you would never say you love me

At least not like that.

I have a charm that says the words love

But no one to give it to.

You rejected my charm

And broke my heart

With all your head fucks-

All the times you flirted with me, 

that time you made a move on me.

People even saw that intense expression of love in your eyes

When you looked at me

But apparently I am just a friend.
Just a friend and I am fed up with men playing with my heart.

I am fragile and I have been broken and crushed by you and two others this year.

I don’t want to ever feel so dead inside again.

This heartache has broken me and now I just want to be alone.

Copyright © Electra Rose January 201

Bipolar, bipolar disorder

The meds are finally working 

So after three years of being trialled on probably around 8 medications for bipolar I think they have finally found a cocktail which works. 

I am now on lithium carbonate, asenapine, sodium valproate and haloperidol and I have been stable for a week now. This is amazing as for the past three years I have pretty much not been stable at all and it’s the last time I’ve been stable since 2015.

I think this stability is genuinely going to last as I am going to keep taking my meds, this meds combo really seems to be working and I am going to keep the alcohol at a minimum of two beverages when I drink socially. 

As I am getting stable it means maybe I can actually do the second semester abroad after all if the university let me.

art, creative writing, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

I tread water daily

I don’t swim in the sea-

I almost drown daily

Because he took my rose

And crushed it with his force.
Rain falls frequently from my fragile face

Into the deep blue sea

Where I would almost sink

If it were not for my supreme strength within.

My red rose will continue to be empowered.

I cannot let him defeat me 

And so I tread water daily.

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

Bipolar, bipolar disorder, creative writing, Human Rights, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry

Unbearable waterfall

Sometimes my waterfall is too much to bear.

It’s breathtaking beauty rushes by too quickly-

Divine happiness never compensates for sadness.

No break from instability,

No end to this curse,

No relief.

How can I cope with the waterfall that is my mind? 

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

Feminism, Human Rights, Journal, Rape, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

Date Rape Is Rape

It seems to me from what I hear about in the news when it comes to rape and sexual assault that the people who open up about rape or are unwillingly exposed to whole communities often experience a whole torrent of victim blaming.

Many people victim blamed me by saying that I couldn’t get half naked with a man and not expect him to want sex. The funny thing is, do men normally stay half clothed like you are and just walk towards you on the bed slowly and at the last minute penetrate you without saying anything ? When it happened it was a total surprise and I was in complete shock to begin with before I was just confused. Luckily, I pushed him away after a bit. Yes, I feel I consented to the rest of the sexual activity before that but just because I consented to everything else before the rape doesn’t mean the penetration wasn’t rape. 

Someone also referred to stranger rape and said that if a stranger had forced themselves on me it would have been rape but because I was dating the guy and really liked him there was no way it could be rape.

Someone also said that they think I have a skewed idea about rape before I even told them what happened. 

People also need to be aware that just because he stopped if you pushed him off you or something doesn’t mean it wasn’t rape if you didn’t consent at all to what was happening before you pushed him away. 

I have been seriously sexually assaulted but not raped on many occasions whilst intoxicated before the rape. The response of many people is to tell me to cut down on my alcohol intake and stop drinking so much on nights out. Drinking doesn’t cause rape, people do! (Yes, women sometimes rape too) I completely disagree with them and think if anything what has made me more vulnerable than others to sexual violence is my naivety and tendency to trust people too easily.

This post just shows how  rife victim blaming is from my experience at least. Victim blaming is sometimes considered by rape and sexual assault survivors as worse than the rape and I completely agree. I was thinking of writing a suicide note to someone I really needed help from to deal with the aftermath of the rape because she completely disbelieved me and blamed me for my actions. 

In conclusion, I think societal attitudes really need to be changed as at least from my own experience it seems people still blame people for rape if they have some kind of sexual relationship with the person before or if the victim has been drinking. I also think it is really vital that everyone is taught about consent and the definitions of sexual assault so that we can work on preventing rape and sexual assault. 


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


I have done well just by surviving

TW: suicidal ideation

I think that I have done incredibly well just by surviving these past seven months and never harming myself or attempting to take my own life.

These past seven months I have had to deal with two different internal hells; post traumatic stress disorder and bipolar disorder. It has been extremely hard both whilst manic and whilst depressed and many times I have casually looked at my pills and thought about taking an overdose. I have also made plans to take an overdose on certain days but when the days came I didn’t do it.

At one point as a result of my post traumatic stress disorder I was being triggered and startled by noises all the time. You can imagine how distressing and horrible this was; I was experiencing the feelings of hopelessness, fear and distress EVERY TIME that I was triggered. I actually broke down in tears once because all of that was just too awful to bear.

Depression was a living hell for me because it sucked out all of the life out of me, the world and everything. Everything was bleak- why would anyone want to live if this is what life is like? I spent weeks where I would look forward to going to bed as soon as I got up and I just wanted to sleep forever. I constantly thought to myself that I was a failure and saw no future for myself. I couldn’t watch films, television or even find a book I wanted to read. I was not myself at all; it was like there was a black cloud hovering above my head wherever I went. Going through days like this is not living, it’s surviving.

Possibly the worst thing that I experienced was constant suicidal urges throughout my mania and my depression which were caused by my antidepressants. I would think about killing myself perhaps every other day in various ways such as cutting my wrists with my razors, strangling myself with earphones, jumping off bridges, running in front of cars and even falling down escalators. These urges and my suicidal thoughts really disturbed me because there was no reason behind them, they just happened.

My mania was also a hell mainly because it was far too much and after even a month I had had enough of it. I felt like I had a very strong dosage of a combination of cocaine and magic mushrooms at the same time but I didn’t and it never went away; the high just would not go even after months of medication. It was euphoric at the very beginning but soon after it became very unpleasant; I was anxious, very irritable, impatient, restless and at times suicidal. The constant hallucinations were one of the main reasons that my mania was so unbearable. They were almost daily and their presence really perturbed me.

I believe that the suffering caused by mental health problems is one of the worst types of suffering and therefore I completely understand why 90% of people who choose to end their lives have mental health problems. It seems completely natural to me that people in situations of mental ill health would feel this way; mental health problems are extremely difficult to live with and make life astronomically hard. It also takes a long time to recover and can be hard to keep having hope and continue on surviving. I think people who battle mental health problems are very strong people as it requires so much courage to get through the pain and suffering.

However, it is not just the illness it self that can make things a living hell for the sufferer. Stigma or a lack of support can also make things incredibly difficult. For a while my mother was very unsupportive and did not believe I was mentally ill. This made things very difficult and I seriously planned to take an overdose of pills to make her see that I was ill. If she had not eventually supported me who knows if I would have gone through with that.

With great difficulty and a lot of hope I have survived the worst parts of my illness; my episodes of mania and depression. I am a lot better now and feel I am getting my life back again.

Suicide hotlines:

If you are in the UK call Samaritans at 08457 90 90 90

Or if you are in the US call 1-800-273