Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

23.10.17
don’t touch me, I don’t like to be touched in the same light that knows no truth about this kind of self, how I fear the things that come this close only to watch them crumble and lie in my eyes is the kind of perfection that knows what malaise looks like, has seen its tears and shed blood for its entrance, speak louder I can’t hear you when you’re this much mute this much hurt, isn’t it funny how I can’t keep opportunity for no longer than a couple of mouths, its all I need to show how much praise attention and compliments, there’s only so much this body can do until it notices its own cracks, see the way it hides self from them, see the way she smiles, she has taken you all for a fool, can you see her, can you see the way she cries about her health like she has control, like her body weak, like what is normal, like she is not normal, look at how she cries for nothing, silly, the way she can’t do life without others, without herself, the way she can’t do life, do you see, she’ll cry for your help behind your back only to tell you she’s okay and she’s done this before, how she holds everything in because her plight is still not understood for herself so why tell those close to her heartbeat, why say anything to anyone when she wants to scream pleas like don’t touch me, I don’t like to be touched in the same light that knows no about this kind of self-, but you never told anyone about this truth so what else were you really expecting.

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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.

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

30.8.17 | Temporary 

Been circling the idea of temporary, a moment so intense it almost feels like its going to last, how do these moments decide their own, are we able to see it coming, how much should we invent into their moment to know if it lasts, if there’s a real chance, sometimes we can’t tell and all the uncanny match up and by then we’ve done too much, such an intense feeling, of not wanting to let go, of not wanting to let go even though they are a bad habit, how long are we allowed to stay this deluded, the dreamer in me is always played for a fool, the calculated oasis in me says you knew how this was going to end, to not trust the body is to play yourself, to play with your feelings, but it is not your fault, as human beings what are we supposed to do when we desire, an intensity so strong we dwell so deep, we didn’t even realize it was this bad until they stopped trying-, I’ve been circling the idea of temporary, moments so intense its going to last, moments decided their own, able to see it coming, we invest into their moment, there’s a real chance, all the uncanny, an intense feeling, wanting to let go, they are a bad habit, allowed to stay, the dreamer in me, the calculated oasis says this was going to end, trust the body, your feelings, its not your fault, human beings, we desire, intensity so strong, realized it was this bad, they stopped trying, been circling temporary, moments so intense, this fear grows.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

6.8.17

A simulation of what I have gathered the blurred lines it means to be a kind of existence that can see through you and not myself, one, my hands are the oasis of both unknown and sink your teeth into this kind of stream, I have to welcome you first, don’t misread my words, don’t think them too deep I am not one to play with such kind of narrative, two, kink, need I say more, both the imagination and for you to give such words like cake, like red room, like how long can you keep this kind of secret, three, watch how you move, I have mastered the art of caring and not knowing to care too much, I will sugar cane and indulge you in ways the mind and this world may not let you kiss away norm’s the way we like to think we are all normal, four, you can either call this body beautiful, or you can watch this body be, beautiful, this is usually where they get confused, five, can you feel it, the way I touch a heart that knows how to not show too much, will say how they mirror you but you’re just watching how they speak, how they speak in motion to how they match their mouth is to walk, most important thing for everyone to realize is that for any person to see, we are all existence of awareness to what we feel, so if you feel heartbeats too much, watch the mind and body, if you feel the mind too much, watch the body and heart, if you feel the body too much, watch the heart and the mind, this, is how self-care and love playfully intertwine.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

4.8.17
from dusk to dawn

I just wanna be with you right now, when I move this slow I can see the stars come through my room, its like a flame not a light, nothing too soft something like burn like desire like you’re my desire, like so quick, like can you see how fast this feeling catches on to things, people, like things and people, like, since when did people become possession , like who is your possession , no one, this feeling has flamed out and sparked a different kind of light, its not always that bright this clear to see, in the night sky, the night sky, I tell myself its going to be okay, there have been days where I have watched the sun disappear into the abyss of the night forgetting to eat, I have to remind myself to eat, my body doesn’t want to understand this heightened sense of sensitivity, doesn’t like that being this unstable to anxiety is leaving this body wasted into nothing, looking at opportunities has become a burden, unsure of how long this kind of illness can exist, cease to been felt this much, how you smile at kin when they ask if you’re okay, when they ask about that job, one shift, 4 hours no sleep, what happened, and you tell them, you don’t like the way human beings have learnt to bury their belief of you in them, how tight it is to breathe such an invisible noose, under these stresses, mass anxiety is a build up of a house on fire, your body is lit up from all the judge, only to blow smoke in their face you don’t remember thinking yourself so much worth, don’t remember giving yourself in their safe keeping in their palms closed, four corners with no exit what else did they expect when you watch the words judge, you, others leave their mouth is when you watch their body deflate and swear you could almost make out the words rested in the creases of their face you didn’t ask for this, you didn’t see this kind of opportunity coming, you didn’t know how else to break down but you were not going to allow all this hard work around so much love for an illness that is not ready for this world how he, was so careless to pain that can not be seen, don’t know the intensity of words protested, this world is not ready to aid this kind of illness, still learning about its malaise and all you can do is smile and take care of this body learn, it to heal even when they see you as weak, as give up, you’re a silenced savior to your own body, this kind of hero would be too much for them, they are not ready for you yet.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

2.8.17
Save

I have this really overwhelming feeling that’s doing what it does best when anxiety starts to hit it can only watch and position to catch this kind of stardust, so many times has it been this much only to forget how much it has been save, been hero, forgot too often about its wings, forgot too often about god, see the word forgive in your eyes, this body, this body forgives the mind, not unwanted anymore only heal, late night no sleep, woke mind eased at the attempts of sister sister, calling out her name like all this air, surrounding self with all this feeling could choke on such intensity doesn’t understand that this is too much for me to handle sometimes, and remedy, remedy isn’t here sometimes, I want to be caught by love, I want love to want to catch me, call out my name and cling to the curves on this body, to want this body a blessing come from god to me, from me to you, you’re a blessing in love-, I am afraid of what it means to love a healing body that knows her truth, with the fabled mind that only knows how well it tricks, and a heart weak at love, words that are too beautiful for this world can’t see the lines in between, so sweet the taste is what I imagine it to taste nothing like, still, waiting on words that have motion that come correct with a kind of body that knows not to take a true self for granted, soon, I am whispered, in soon.

Poetry: Melody of Being Animate

24.7.17 | 26.7.17 | 27.7.17
Beautiful

Do you see, how we have been taught to cower at mirrors the way we shy away from this kind of creation, how the roots of our hair is to deify gravity, how we been conditioned by a system that likes to keep us in trend, wanting to learn our hair matched to theirs but never these roots, never these kinks, do you see, the ways we’ve been told how this skin should never know flowers, such beauty is unattainable, starting with these shades, do you see, hidden between compliments that are snatched right back after its been taking from the back of our throats, the ways in which we see this skin has affected the how we live this life, unapologetic, soft, fire, black, woman, that there is nothing wrong with feeling like you’re beautiful everyday, sneak kisses into this body so it knows true love from within, to know how this body hugs you back is to know how to love yourself first, when you witness its secrets like petals that fall into your palms, is one of the most beautiful photosynthesis there is, how we can see love glimmer in loves eyes the way they are careful with their words, mention them as sweet, and honest, in the same sentence as much as it demands, you have never, been pretty for a black girl, don’t listen to these kinds of poison dipped potions, this skin has been strong, and shackled to never to brake at those who don’t understand its nooses, that having this type of history, that knows how back bone from the lines measured identity in vines of our hands means, to be able to reach out and grab this kind of love back, this kind of unity, self love, and care can never be known by just anybody, you’re permission and solution in your own matched womanhood, see this alive the way we look at words like love, like self, like care, beauty, kind, like identity, like and still black, be the persona of woman that is this much magic to her own reflection, undone, from those who peel back at this skin not knowing how much love it has taken to be bright light shine, back at the mirror in front of her, in front of you, bare all your secrets sheen enough for those who are deemed magic bliss, glimpse this being a shooting star miracle from her birth right which is to see how far you have come all on your own, do you see, how your reflection is magic, your existence is defiance, that you have always been this kind of woman.

Poetry: Melofy of Being Animate

24.7.17 | 26.7.17

If you listen closely, you can hear the mind telling this body words that feel a lot like the ways in which fake, dishonest, like to come close and hug its most vulnerable parts that think belong to this body, how this mental state isn’t something so temporary, that you can’t just turn its function off, that survival, is the same as this health, how quick this illness likes to give metaphors meaning in the same sentence as its brainwashed malaise, you’re worth all the effort, how each word cuts the tips of the tongue, there is always a show of what’s left to unpack, doesn’t like to be misunderstood, this illness, will hurt you first before it hurts the heart working its way up to the mind, how fragile you are, how strong you have be, this mindful can’t see the other side, convinced you’re here forever, don’t ignore what is happening here, this feeling, is trying to talk to this body, tell you how it doesn’t like to be misunderstood remember, to be cradled and rocked, can you see the way it’ll pull at the places where the hurt is most tender do you remember, will mention words like heal and broken to soften a passing feeling, its not always this lonely, in this moment you’re to use a gentle hand, whisper this body to witness all the light in compliments sweet into ears and able to stay this humble, be this kind, we’re all gifted and gift to somebody, to be careful with our words, never use them in split tongue, this is how you brake broken people, we’re all creations of our own, never to be consumed by others but ourselves, in the most tasteful way we perceive this bodies alive, if you listen closely, you can hear the mind telling this body it has always belonged to please its own downfall and accountable to its self, be careful with your words, they are the type of narrative that can dream or damp this beings efforts, do not use them in fit rage, you’re to choose its caliber wisely before you regret its escape from the mouth, as human beings this is the least we can do, as human beings this is the least we can do to stay this balanced, a form of evidence, how we, are all chemically cinematic in hope of balanced sane mobile actuality, this, is what is means to unpack the mind in ways which astound the average being, this is how the mind talks to me when it finds, the right ways to conjoin its fate into my hands, roaming this body its feeling awaiting its welcomed here, I am a home to myself before I am home of any other being animate, melody in twin, I am the poetry in this being first, this is the kind of sweetness that can not be earned by eye candy, you must be as sweet as you look, the sweetest way to tempt a kind of body that has been learnt off pretty enough before sweet inside of this beautiful body, wanting to be sweet enough for both and can only hope melody of animate will do the same.