Happy New Year, survival, paying it forward and a hello to 2017

2016; a year of swings and roundabouts, as they say. This is just a post to tell a bit of my story of living with anxiety and depression. It’s not me dwelling (and I hope it doesn’t come across that way) I’ve chosen to do this because I’ve found it so comforting at times to read and/or hear other people’s and have a flicker of hope knowing I’m really not alone in this. I want to repay these people’s kindness in sharing their stories by sharing with my own, as a sort of pay it forward… *deep breath*

Firstly I want to wish you all the very best for the next year and your future in general. I hope 2017 is a beauty for you in whatever form that takes.

So here goes…

Continue reading “Happy New Year, survival, paying it forward and a hello to 2017”


The ink runs ribbons
Caressing the paper
As it soothes
Fire in my heart

The corners curl
Inwards from the pressure
And ferocity
As if to cocoon my words

Artistic in it’s catharsis
Delightful in it’s musicality
The flow and the fall
From heart to page
Soothes my torment
In it’s cadaverous stage

The pen & the page
Are my saviours
For today

Just be (#Rhythmic_Words)

Pure in its simplicity
Simple in its desire
Complex in its design
A deadly balance on a wire
Always there for others
With a warmth and a smile
Tries her best to be care free
But alone she withdraws
She can never just be

Hiding behind the mask
The performance every day
Everyone comes first
She will always find away
When the performance slips
Others notice and ask
It takes courage and strength
To hide her shadowed heart
But through the darkness she tries
And she laughs it away
It’s easier than to succumb
She prefers it that way

Continue reading “Just be (#Rhythmic_Words)”


A quick bit of free writing falling its way onto my tiny phone keys as I travel

Somedays she feels lost
Sometimes she feels completely secure
Somedays there’s a cost
Somehow she will always endure
Some may see her and say she has less
Some are unaware how their thoughts oppress

She sometimes has no shadow
Some days she has no sense of being
She sometimes has no echo
Sometimes she has no way of seeing
Some may see this as a lesser thing
Some are unaware how her heart and mind sing

She feels so acutely, empathy is her curse
She can also feel nothing, nothing can be worse
More richness, more fear, more darkness, more light
More empathy, more despair but most of all more fight.

For all to see

Just an image that came to me when listening to Nightwish ‘Meadows of heaven’ and a poem that followed.


Heartbreak cascaded through her,
She saw it
Black as night
Was it just in her reflection?
It was, she was sure,
She wipes her eyes
Frantic, afraid
Her hands tremble
As if her tears, tore through her,
Wearing tracks;
And leaving ghosts
For all to see,
Or just for me?

Voracious (#MSPoetry)

Her love, her desire, her loneliness –
Unquestionably voracious –
A life in extremes.
The darkness;
Such a fight.
The highs;
Such delight.
In an empty world –
On an empty stage –
The moon illuminates her tears
As her mind races,
Her eyes darting veraciously
Through the solid darkness.
Her mouth forms words
Too timid to say.
But there’s passion,
A hunger for hope;
A desire for something better,
In the moonlight,
Alone, lost, and scared,
But with hope,
And the beauty of the night,
She finds herself;
A voracious dreamer.

In your arms

A sketch Inspired by some meat loaf lyrics: ‘In your arms I think I’ve found the safest place to fall’


Sometimes there are moments
Where you feel you’re free falling, fast or slow,
Sometimes in those moments
You find a new hand that you can hold.
When you feel the most invisible
Feel absent, lost or disengaged,
In your disconnected haze you find
Comfort, unexpected, in a heart once estranged;
It’s like a new breath –
It’s like a jolt, like a flicker –
Something to keep holding on for,
As the fears and shadows wither.

So she sits

This is quite what you might call a ‘raw’ poem about depression, As a woman loves, waits and holds on to her Partner through a tough day.
Published on Spillwords December 2016

So she sits.
We sit, together – but apart.

She waits and wonders if things will change.
Her disengagement from the world humble and acquiescent.
At peace with the turbulent thoughts that she stumbles through.
There is no time left to wonder or wander through time.
The heat of the passion which no longer burns was matched only by the furnace of ferocious fears which tore her apart inside.

We had waited. I always waited.
Waited, unaware of the pain she was in.

Continue reading “So she sits”