Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

29.9.17 | Dreaming (fable…rain..)

I think as a dreamer type we adore the world from inside of our body, we look at the world as this huge injustice and attempt to do something about it even if that means being consumed by imaginative heroics, we tend to love the time we spend alone doing what we feel like getting lost in our ideal reality to escape actuality, we see the world in so many hues and potential sometimes its hard to deal with, would much rather listen to the rain and beats in a room full of strangers, I like to close my eyes and get lost in a type of feeling that has the ability to soothe a kind of body that knows wars from the inside and compassion for its mental conflict, when I’m this healing I like to think about the people I keep in beat next to my heart and how much love overflows with their name they don’t even know, they wouldn’t dare imagine what kind of secret love I have in high ring into this body for them, will never understand or maybe think too much if they ever dare find out, secrets that are well kept in this body are never told even when love is as much love as rain.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

29.9.17 | I ran away..(escape..)

On days like this when I can’t find the right words to explain how I’m feeling, its usually when I’ve spent most of my day with the mind, the body is a plus one and we are all listening to the mind, I can’t quite explain it, its really hard to feel anything when you’re this consumed by the mind, you forget that you’re existing a motion in the present so caught up in the mind you’re only present inside of this gesture, today is one of those days where you’ve provoked a kind of conversation around love, and you can’t help but think, remember how often and easily you’re swayed by others kindness you mistake its moment, but its too late, the heart has already found another capable feeling and you like the way it lights you up, smile at their presence and bite your lip, this is what happy also looks like, the mind is still busy, the body and I are just watching listening from inside of this body, still captivated by a kind of resilience, still unable to match a feeling, I am a messenger in the form of words for the mind, its so complicated to talk this way, this is also a conversation, to disconnect with reality and check in with the way the mind is existing-, I think I like this feeling, of maybe loving someone, it reminds me how much life is really worth, reminds me of how it feels to be alive, witness something so indescribable that it makes it all worth it, recognize as human beings we may not necessarily agree but its essential to gain a kind of human interaction, as human beings we aren’t capable of too much solitude, we gain the most feeling from energy dosing one another, there is no greater solitude than sharing your life with another.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

5.9.17| 18.9.17
A day

If I had it my way, I would space out as much as I wanted and watched the world so capable in my mind, I see the way we like to deflate and synchronize ourselves to norms in order to society so the pressure is worse, if I had it my way we would touch clouds and say nothing, most kind of heaven created with our dream perfect, aren’t we allowed to be as we are and not be afraid of what is normal, aren’t we allowed to be sick and have no one question this state of mind, if I had it my way I make words like happy, like self-love, like self-care, like mental health, like us, dream perfect, we would look at ourselves and see what keeps us alive, smile silly at the world instead of feeling like we’re existing rather than living, if I had it my way I wouldn’t be clinical, I wouldn’t feel sorry for myself because to go through depression is to criticize what is there whether you see it or not, I don’t like the way we hold back our tears and are scared to befriend the ocean why are we so scared of our emotions, I don’t like the way we’ve learnt so well to hide what we can not control, the way we speak about mental health like it doesn’t exist, that we speak about ourselves in lost dreams and memories, my kind of love are the ones that rest on my hips, and dip into something sweet with love for company, its something like purple rain, I know times are changing its time we all reach out, its like waking up to an untouched day everyday, is watching the people I love create and vine into their kind of content, if I had it my way I would space out as much as I wanted and watched the world so capable with the ones I love and not deflate at what is normal, I would watch myself become hero before my own, and watch how love lights me up as their inspire, this is a learnt fearless dream you can not tame flames that have been ignited this beautifully.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

7.9.17

When your body learns to encrypt and put codes into the body to protect yourself from yourself you slowly learn that there has been a death in this body before, watch how close the mind likes to play tricks on the body trying to expert its codes to find release outside of this body, you’ll find this illness is fast between dreaming fable and lost in the present how confusing it much be to not see what is right in front of you, that we like to call these kinds of secrets evil, there has been malaise here for a long time now, we’ve become so familiar to the way it likes to hide so deep into the body make you forget who you are, and your memory is the blink of a second, only to look in the mirror and find traces of your bodies past its parts in the crators of the eyes, deep set skin aging with forgotten and hidden you didn’t know, you’ll look at the lines in your palms touch your skin like its familiar-, remind me of how much I don’t know about self, a being to this body that it is ill, that we have to write this way to bleed out its words, it has always been this way this was the only way since I was 10, can feel how tight it has been to breathe around here, still ashamed of being this kind of unpleasant, its not normal to be like this, talk to the body in second person, we aren’t allowed to be this weak, dreams that can be caught up in the mind are not the same as the types of malaise that are seen, that scar normally, have always been ashamed of being this kind of existing-, afraid that you’re a lie, that this is all just a dream, it has never been about sympathy, but rather empathy for what can not be completely understood.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

7.9.17
A time lapse conversation with depression (conscious, body and me..)

what did you do today, I spilt out of my bed without resting this body well, the mind stayed indoors too late, couldn’t sleep so we found irritation in this being, what were you thinking about, even if you ask me I don’t know there’s been too much that fell out of my control, to understand an intensity with the mind in a lapse I wouldn’t know where to begin, and yes you can say the beginning but there was no beginning nor end it just happened, I was still awake, okay so how are you feeling, I feel, heavy, numb, frustrated and blank at the same time, okay so when did you start feeling like this, well from what I can manage it was as soon as I left remedy, but you know I was fine I didn’t feel this heavy, so what are you thinking about now, well now I’m looking over buildings grey skies with blush blue hues, not at home had to leave, I felt so trapped, changed my surroundings so quick, now I’m listening to passion pain and demon slayin the body is talking on its own I’m not really here, it does this often, is there anything else you wanted to say something you want her to know, just, I just want her to live I want her to know that I want her to live, there is nothing I can say when she is feeling this way words are not enough, the mind is weighing down on her too much she can’t see anything all she can do is feel the mind, I just want her to know she can live, there is no wrong way of doing this pace your health you’re not in a race with the mind let it exhaust its reality I want her to know she doesn’t have to get involved she just has to watch this intensity pass, I’m here for her I just want her to live.

Article #3: Why is mental health so misunderstood?

5.9.17 | 6.9.17

Mental health is an interesting topic. I find that its so hard for the person going through their own mental health journey to talk about their mental health. If I’m being honest, it’s partly society, kin and few other factors. I want to personally tell you what happens when someone you deeply care about doesn’t understand your mental health, and how I reacted to connotations along the lines of ungrateful.

Before I get into the article I would like to properly introduce myself, as always.
My name is Fatma, I am a 22 year old woc who has had clinical depression for 2 years or so now, and like most with mental health I took my time denying it as I researched what being depressed meant in every way shape and/or form. This means what it looked and felt like, but honestly mostly anything that would explain how I was feeling internally at such a mass intensity. I sat with the intensity for years before getting professional help. I am also an INFJ-P, daughter, friend, sister, self-care, mental health creative writer and possibly other sub headings that I can’t think of at the moment.

A couple of days or a week ago I told a friend of 8+ years about getting an interview for David Jones that I had applied for months ago. I told her that I won’t be going to the interview because we both know what happened when I worked in the sales industry not so long ago prier to this email, and it has now become a trigger I told her. I was expecting for her as my friend to see where I’m trying to come from with my situation.

To my confusion she was so shocked, and said that I’m acting along the lines of ungrateful and I looked her dead in the eyes and said

“what’s the point of me going to an interview that triggers me mentally. I don’t think its about being ungrateful. I’m trying to take care of my mental health and myself.”

And immediately she said “..I mean it’s up to you.” like I had a choice. I’m not trying to talk ill of her nor the situation, but after this conversation I started really thinking about what it is about depression that is so hard to understand. Also because I don’t talk about it with anyone other than my psych,  I’ve learnt to not expect others to understand depression. So to be fair I don’t blame her.

I didn’t know this then, but when she said that my mind almost tucked away what she had said and it was like what she had said was still being properly processed in my mind so that I could think about it clearly in my own time. In the moment although I was immediately internally irritated for a split second but not angry, because lord knows being an INFJ-P type it takes me time to react properly to situations most every time. I wanted to properly understand why she would say something like that to me knowing very well my situation and that she is a very close friend of mine. So before I could even react emotionally my body and my mind were unconsciously protecting me from my emotions knowing very well this was not usually how I would react.

From that day on I had started to get really depressed and each day it just got worse. I was frustratingly trying to unpack why on my own for an exhausting month. Then with my psychologist, we unpacked how I was feeling piecing together what was going on inside my head to figure out the trigger was mentioned by a friend, and my mental health was still reacting to the words said. In that moment, I was so shocked I couldn’t help but break down and everything I held back just overflowed out of me.

Even though I said I was done crying from others words, understanding that this is not what they really mean because to others, they don’t know how mental health functions in the body so for them its usually not that they really mean it, but rather they don’t understand its intensity and manifestation of their choice of words while talking to someone who is ageing through mental health.

What I would really want to challenge is why is it that we aren’t actively talking about mental health.

What are we so scared of?

We as a race don’t understand how it completely works, and for the person who is going through this internal battle all they do is everything they can to help themselves.

I strongly believe talking about mental health is so important. It may be uncomfortable for some however, this is only because as a society we get to decide what is of importance and mental health is without a doubt one of those justices.

Think about it like this. When we are in pain what’s the first thing as human beings we do as the kin, we listen, want to comfort and we want to help. So, why is it that when someone is going through mental health the same thing isn’t practiced? We all want to do what we can to make the people we love and care about around us feel accepted and trusted, mental health is no different.

 

Thank You.
Fatma Hussein

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

3.9.17 – 4.9.17 | Me and my body

When I learn my triggers, I am learning what its like to sit in burning building, teaching my body to feel at this intensity is not to always be understood by others, that when we become critical about how we exist its really important to welcome how its been sparked, watching characters in the form of love speak about clinical like its not capable of death in bare hands, as though the body isn’t also teeth trying to protect, witness words like ungrateful leave bodies its enough to remind this kind of being unwelcome, reminding how human it can be to silence its existence, this body knows how its remembered with words that make it feel like they are invisible, like their feelings aren’t on purr and this is when the teeth are bared and devoured at the parts where hurt is the most tender, is when my body will once again bare teeth at them instead and maybe you regret to have opened its mouth, but never apologizing for the way it is feeling, come to remember how close we have seen death, that we are human beings learning to live with an illness that is not ready for this world, have to remind ourselves that we are worthy of our intensity even though we still don’t sing them loud enough for our bodies to sleep at its comfort, to never apologies to any confirming kin nor love sharpen their words in the name of connotations such as ungrateful to listen to this body, to help kin understand this clinical, to help you understand this clinical, that being sick this way is not a dream, their is malaises here, awakened fable, mindless narrative, an unconscious bond between me, and my body.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

3.9.17 – 4.9.17 | A Conversation

I had a conversation with the way Im feeling, told a friend that we are all existence to our own and that we fear so much, that we are all wanting someone to need us the way we need love, talked about the flow and symmetry of both its constraints, how we believe and spoke words that were the kind only awakened by the body, such truth, had a conversation about ourselves, about how the human body can lie, can lie so easily, gave each other meanings to the word family and real love, told her how I am still learning to mend broken hearts, remember telling myself the same advice, something like time, like my own experience, like she is worth all the love, like can’t you see it too, like how is love really blinding, like tell me what is real love, like the way we learn to befriend oceans and not our body, can’t see how much it protects, told her what I have been trying to tell myself, it was somewhere between heated conversation I taught my being too, what love could be, what I thought it looked like, how it should be treated, something so beautiful about how we love, that our being is a personality of how we choose to show love we care, sometimes too much, sometimes that we leave with broken hearts thinking love needs a second chance but we forget, that we are love the most, that when you can be this honest to self, and show love how honest you can be is learning to exist unapologetically..