“A lot of people are sick and stressed and suffering and they simply don’t need to be. If one makes a radical choice to embrace simplicity, they can begin to realise how little one needs to be truly happy. Dare to take a period where you strip down your life to the fundamental basics; start with what you know you need – water, food, sleep, shelter. From there, regularly find some time to sit down in silence and focus on nothing but your breath. In that sacred space, one can find access to the richest parts of oneself. In that sacred space, the neurotic noise of the mind slowly fades away, and one can finally see with blinding clarity, the joyous beauty of their own existence.”
“I stood alone once again, my fragile heart somehow still beating. I often wondered how that thing kept working after all these years; after all the ache and pain I had put it through. Even it just cutting out for a minute would be understandable, but that beating just went defiantly on, pumping the blood through my veins, fueling my existential flame that flickered as a brief flash of light in this eternal universe. My heart obviously had more hope in me than the rest of me did. I wasn’t doing so great, but I was still here: a crooked smile on my face and dreams wafting around my hungover head. I stood dazed and confused at the age of thirty-two, wondering where the hell I was going to head next. My life path was like that of some vagrant wandering down a dark road on the edge of town, looking at the flickering lights of cheap hotels and wondering in which one he could momentarily rest before drifting on some more. It seemed that the youthful me who had fervently chased his dreams had changed to this sullen drifter of the night – a man simply searching for some shelter, rather than some grand haven. A man no longer trying to climb a mountain, but just summoning the strength to get out of bed. A man no longer trying to write some great novel, but just jotting down a few simple sentences. My god, what was I even becoming? I looked in the mirror and wanted to behold those eyes that stared fiercely back at me in my twenties, but such a life was now something seemingly in the past. The merciless dagger of time had taken its swing, and what was I but yet another man secretly bleeding out before everyone’s eyes.”
Sitting alone in the corner of the pub Trying to work on my laptop While watching the old men drink ale at the bar As the weather notification on my phone tells me That there will be “rainy days ahead”
I’m back in Nottingham after spending the winter away This time without a girlfriend Who is now living in the hills of Barcelona I bump into her friend while walking along the river While sporting a drunken cut on my face And riddled with hungover anxiety Her friend is happy and now has a dog I look like a wretched mess in comparison.
That was my second facial injury within a month The other happened when I had my phone stolen As the thieves broke into my online bank accounts And transferred themselves generous amounts of money On that same night my bike was also stolen And I woke up with more wounds Seeping into my bedsheets.
Oh well, it’s a new day, I say to myself So I take a sip of my coffee and try to get back to work But the old men at the bar have gotten louder So I leave and walk a bit further into the city.
I’m on my way into the centre And walking near my old girlfriend’s house When a homeless man approaches me He asks me to play AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ on my phone I put it on and start chatting to him He’s clearly insane but I end up buying him A pack of cigarettes and some vodka Despite trying to recoup my recent losses.
We chat for five minutes about nothing Until I eventually say goodbye For some reason, I even say “god bless” Despite being a non-believer.
And then suddenly I’m in another bar I don’t recognise anyone And they don’t recognise me I told myself I wouldn’t drink But I order a strong lager anyway I take a sip and pull out my phone The battery is now running low My friend is asking if I want to go out tonight And the notification still tells me That there’ll be rainy days ahead.
I see normal people Normal people with normal heads Normal heads full of normal thoughts Thinking about their wives and jobs Or what they have to do when they get home The next time they’ll visit their family Or what show they’re going to watch Before going to bed.
Those normal people I know if they took one look inside this head It would be like watching some foreign film Without subtitles.
How is it even possible I ended up this way So far removed from the rest That I have to train my tongue To act out a performance just to get by.
I’m honestly so tired of this I’m so tired of this script I’m so tired of this performance And these predictable people.
I think it’s time to loosen this tongue And let the normal people see Just what’s inside my head Even if it’s just insanity Or irrationality Or a deranged poem From a deranged mind
Tired of not blooming anymore Tired of being over the best part Looking at those sullen eyes Those shrugged shoulders Feeling that emptiness within As the sunlight doesn’t reach the important spaces.
Tired of being on the wrong path And knowing I took a wrong turn somewhere Yet not doing anything about it.
Tired of speaking words I don’t mean And sleepwalking down these streets Being a productive member of society While my soul lies in some deep sleep.
I want to grab it and awaken it And run out the front door with wild eyes And feel these words come more easily.
I want to go back to a place in time When writing came before working And I didn’t care so much about money Or that stupid fear of the future.
I want to break free from this post-youth winter That has frozen my spirit.
I really want to do it But the frost grows thicker And as the days continue to drift by passively As I stare into the vacant eyes of strangers And that silent sadness begins to take over I realise that something must be done.
Staring up at the sky and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness Searching for those satellites in between the stars While standing on a rooftop in Las Palmas Wondering how I ended up here, again, My days of drifting not quite over But knowing I am definitely older now And yes, I miss the youthful me That renegade rascal who reveled in life’s bright lights.
Somehow it doesn’t quite hit the same anymore I mean, those starry skies still look the same The ocean shoreline still looks the same And the sangria still tastes delicious But the sense of soul-searching adventure While coming of age on life’s rollercoaster Is different.
Somehow I am adjusted to it all The sights, the sounds, the conversations And the things that once caused butterflies to flutter in my stomach Well, they now feel like crickets chirping in my brain.
There is a still quietness on this side of town.
And as my eyes finally adjust to the darkness And I look at the satellites instead of the stars I wonder if I will ever behold the blazing light Of youth and adventure again.
In my heart I’ll always be there Dancing with you on a rooftop in Palermo Holding your hand while walking by the river Throwing that frisbee to you in the summer sun.
In my heart I’ll always be there Cuddling with you on a Sunday morning Staring into your eyes and your soul Getting lost in that starry universe.
In my heart I’ll always be there Running my fingers through your hair Feeling the light burst through me As my lips touch yours.
I guess I’m never gonna truly let you go A part of you will exist within me always And when my last step is taken And I fall to the floor of this earth I will look up to the grand sky above Feeling your love still flowing through me And I’ll remember those times of pure joy When everything was perfectly in place Hoping I could stay in that moment forever
I’m sorry, but I can’t be who you want me to be I know I’ve tried to iron out these creases To fit my circular shape into a square hole And I know how wonderful it would be to be with you To share our journey with love and laughter But the makeup of myself is something unchangeable.
I thought this time it might be different With the love of a good woman, I could become sane I could find a good job and learn to drive and flourish A regular human-being just like the rest.
But each stride forward just pulls me back And tells me the inescapable truth That I do not belong on that side of the street.
My place is here in this broken shack Lingering with the lost and lonely Finding my way in the shadows While writing this poetry.
A part of me has always known this But your kisses were intoxicating And like all starved people who get a taste of love I guess I let delusion get the best of me.
So tonight I finally recognise that this has to come to an end That the irreparable parts of my character Now break down this bridge To leave us standing on separate shores With only the memory of each other And at least knowing we tried what others wouldn’t.
But now we know, That I can’t be who you want me to be, And that’s okay.
Another night of laying there unable to sleep. Another night of watching the hours go by as dawn approached, knowing I’d face the world even more sleep-deprived than the day before. Such a situation was nothing new to me. Insomnia had been ravaging my life for years by the time I was in my thirties. It came and went, but at its worst I’d get just a couple of hours of disturbed sleep a night. Sometimes I’d get none. Slowly it would snowball out of control until my mental state was dark, depressed, and delirious. At my very worst, I would even slip into psychosis and begin to have auditory and visual hallucinations. I would be totally exhausted and broken – a pitiful wretch – and all I needed was to simply sleep to fix myself, but I would lay there each night undergoing psychological torture, totally unable to switch off and get the thing my soul was screaming for. One time I got so frustrated I started banging my head against a wall in a desperate attempt to knock myself out. That’s when I realised the severity of the disorder that was violently destroying my life.
It’s now the start of 2024 as I begin this year in this all-too-familiar way. I partly have myself to blame for it, having gone on a weekend bender in Dublin three weeks before. Whenever my routine is disturbed by drinking and late nights, I usually end up spiralling into a state of sleep-deprivation. I guess I should have accepted by now that my partying days are behind me with this paralysing condition, but it’s been hard to let go of all the fun things that filled my youth. So, here I am three weeks on, battling a disease of the mind that no one else can see and only a few can understand. Still, the start of a new year presents the opportunity to start fresh and mark out some targets. Maybe I’ll quit drinking, I say to myself. Maybe I’ll finally get this condition under control. Strict sleeping times and healthy practices. No more partying until dawn. It’s a nice idea that I commit myself to with a sense of vigour and hope. A man can always use the concept of a new year to try and start afresh; even if it’s just a temporary delusion, sometimes that’s what one needs in order to keep marching into another year of existence.
For now though I lay in my room, hiding from the outside world which seemed far too unbearable when one hadn’t slept properly in weeks. I guess it was a good place to be considering that storms had been battering the country for weeks. I couldn’t help but listen to that heavy wind and rain like I was listening to a representation of my turbulent mental state. The nearby river continued to rise as I felt a growing gloom about my life, as if a sprawling swamp surrounded me with sinister creatures lurking somewhere in the shadows. Each year life got considerably harder and I was left wondering how I’ve even made it this far without drowning altogether. I took refuge in the fact that there was obviously some sort of strength inside of me that had kept me fighting off my demons throughout the years – whether that be depression, anxiety, alienation, insomnia, or general madness. However, I didn’t feel as strong and brave as I once did, and things were only getting harder as that river continued to rise and the current got stronger. I could feel my insides shaking; my nervous system vibrating with anxiety. I wondered how the hell I was ever going to get by in this world with my mental health problems and unemployability and the rising cost of living and everything that just seemed to make being a human-being a stupidly difficult and unrealistic task.
I couldn’t let myself get bogged down in a million worries at once, so I set a step by step guide to get out of the darkness first. The first thing I needed was sleep so I focused on fixing that by staying away from booze, meditating, and having set bedtimes. It took a few days but I eventually felt able to head out and face the world. I ran alongside the flooded river; I breathed in the air; I went shopping in the supermarket for healthy foods. Slowly I started to feel somewhat like a human-being again. The next step involved the ever-present necessity of money. I needed a job after my last one decided to let me go a few weeks before Christmas. I started searching and sending out applications. As always, I looked for the most straightforward jobs possible – menial factory or warehouse roles that required you to do just a couple of repetitive tasks. That’s about all I could manage at this point. Perhaps that was my ceiling. I was an autistic daydreamer after all, and my limited capacity for work was hard to ignore when reflecting on my job history.
Although jobless, I was at least getting some income being on government unemployment benefits. It required me to attend meetings with a work coach to tell them the steps I was taking in seeking employment. My last one was at the height of my insomnia when my anxiety was through the roof, and I was unfortunate to be met with a guy who grilled me and got me to apply for terrible call centre roles in which I wouldn’t last more than a few days. This time I was better prepared and lucky enough to be met with a woman who clearly didn’t care as much about her job as the previous guy. Perhaps she too knew what a joke it all was. I sat there describing some jobs I’d applied for, as well as some vague future employment goals. She typed some things into a computer and nodded her head as I accepted my place as a misfit and liability in this society. The tedious process plodded on and eventually came to a merciful end.
I then headed back out into the streets of Nottingham city centre. I walked around and saw them all surrounding me again: the normal, civilised faces of humanity. Presentable people with careers and cars and credit scores and shoe collections. People ready to continue on along the treadmill of a normal, sane life – mortgages and marriages; security and stability. The separation from everyone else all was as strong as ever. It was a new year, but it seemed it was the same old me – wandering the world like some sort of alien that had been cast away on planet earth. Still, I reminded myself that I had a beautiful girlfriend; that I was consistently looking for work; that I was twenty hours into learning to drive. Perhaps this year would be different. Perhaps this year I’d finally smoothen and straighten out. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the ‘new year, new me’ optimistic delusion was taking effect once again.
I continued walking towards home until I reached the river. I stopped and sat down on a bench beside it. The water levels had dropped back down to normal and the winter sunshine twinkled upon the surface. I let myself breathe and observed the pleasant scene before me, watching a flock of birds fly along the river and happy dogs stroll along the pathway. It was a place I had experienced great peace before and, after a few minutes, I noticed that peace there in my soul once again. I felt my inner anxiety being alleviated – all the thunder inside being replaced by a loving, radiant light that had filled me before. Despite my current troubles, I knew that it was a beautiful world, and that I really did belong to it – even if I felt out of place in society. Slowly I began to accept myself and where I was in life. Slowly I began to accept that yes – it was a new year, and in reality would never really be a new me, but the best thing I could do was to nurture the part of myself that had guided me to peace and happiness before. At that moment, I made a decision to look after myself a bit better, starting by resisting an offer to go out for drinks that evening. Something inside of me said the way forward this year was as simple as that. My plan wasn’t to conquer the world, or run a marathon, or some specific goal or resolution like that – but to just treat myself with some basic kindness and gentleness. Starting from there, who knew what it would lead to. For when the storm has passed and the destruction has been cast, it seemed the best and only real thing you could do was dust yourself off, pick up the pieces, and let yourself move forward in the direction of the calming and healing light.
Who am I kidding? Trying to be an ordinary person Getting my driver’s licence A girlfriend, a job A routine.
Who am I kidding? Dressing up nicely Tidying my room And calming the fire inside.
It may be suppressed, at times Even dwindling But the spark is always there Waiting to erupt And engulf me again.
Some things are inevitable And who the hell am I kidding Thinking that there will ever be a time When I’m not wading through the sewers And being covered in all the shit That is now seeped into my soul.
I no longer wish to lie to myself Only to face the harsh light That unveils the truth I cannot escape.
Tonight I throw away the mask And stare into the mirror Beholding my scarred, scratched flesh Facing the grim reality Of my maniacal self.
I was never made to be clean I was never made to be normal I was never made to write words That are different from these.
I was made to linger on the outskirts To drift in the darkness And let my own madness Consume me totally.
This truth is unavoidable And please, do not pity me For this act of accepting who you are Gives one a certain freedom in life.
It’s the freedom of unbolting your own cage And letting yourself be unrestrained Wandering in your natural wilderness Your claws sharpened; your eyes wide.
~ A Voice From The Wild ~ 