Sometimes life hits you in the guts, when you least expect it.
The below was written in May, 2024. I've come a long way since. I'm so grateful for my life now. Warning, it's pretty dire to read. Yet, I meant every word. Living it daily was hell.
It also took me a long time to get past it. Worst two years of my life. It was very scary and has returned somewhat in the past couple of months, thankfully not as extreme. Prolonged emotional stress made an impact. Too much, too soon.
(July '26 update; I drafted this post in February 2026. I had four good months, then a steady decline from March until where I'm at now. Not quite back in the worst of it but in a pretty bad place. Fuck it, I'm sharing it anyway).
Pained Firsts
I don’t want to sound so extreme
It’s how it is
And must be said.
I have never felt more trapped
I have never felt more suffocated
I have never felt so helpless
I have never felt so miserable
I have never felt so alone
I have never felt so damned
No matter the decisions.
I have never felt so uninterested
In all things
That once provided joy
I have never felt
That the future
Held nothing for me
I have never felt such a pull towards death
I have never felt
That there was no-one to live for
Despite my wish
Not to hurt them.
I have never felt
That each day
Was a gruelling endurance test
With only sporadic minutes
Of respite.
I rarely write poetry
Completely sober
This is that rarity
Which is why it’s so honest
And frightening.
I wish someone would cut me loose
Before I do it myself.
1 a.m.
10.5.24
A lot of this is because of severe anti-depressant withdrawal, (story here) meaning my coping mechanisms were very low. So in a time of high stress, my nervous system basically collapsed. It thought I was constantly in danger and I was in constant fight or flight mode. Not just mental. Very physical too. I was shutting down. I coudln't sleep more than 5 hrs a night. I couldnt rest. Couldn't see a way out. I get why people 'un-alive' themselves. I thought about it a lot. Often daily. I had plans. I feel lucky that I did get out of it. I just have to maintain a peaceful life as possible.
Depression, anxiety etc come to many at some point to some degree or other. Part of life. But throwing in a drug that messes with your brain into the mix makes it a nightmare. There were other factors too that I won't go into here.
I've always had anxiety, since a child and had periodic panic attacks (many think they know what they are but have never actually had one. Being panicky is not the same as the terror filled adrendline that pumps through your body. You feel like you're dying). Essentially now, I have a panic disorder. It makes the most basic of living, difficult. A quiet day off at home can be a nightmare. My brain won't shut off catasptrophic thinking. Living in fear. Trapped. My body is in fight or flight mode, making it impossible to relax. Impossible to control my thoughts.
I know this is way too much information. I''m sure most haven't read this far. Everyone is focused on their own thing. You find these things out in time of crisis. Who is there and who isnt.
I leave this more of a record. Incase something happens. I don't kid myself that I'm 'raising awareness'. I'm really just sharing a poem with you. And hope that one day, my daughter (now 15) may find some interest in it.
Peace to you.
Anthony
Website - Books, videos, short films, free downloads
I hope it helps you. It works! But you have to work at it. Daily.
I'm still working at it. It's an hour by hour process. And often I fail. It's hard not to trust your own feelings and thoughts especially if they're automatic and persistent. Which mine are, but that's what you have to do.
It's essentially about neuroplasticity. It is possible to alter your brain. It's not easy. A work in progress. Stress comes along which can send you back. Your own brain can try to trick you and send you backwards. It wants you to be anxious, to protect you from danger. It wants you to be depressed. To prove that the world is against you and that you are worthless. None of these things are true. Acknowledge the feelings as theyre almost impossible to stop but keep talking yourself up. Keep going. The alternative is not an option you want.
In time, they lose their power and the world shifts. Suddenly, you're more free. Your mind is not your jailor. It's a slow process. But it works. Just keep at it.
Artist unknown. Appears to be linked to Fine Art America
Now, to follow my own advice. As I said in the video, I've gone backwards somewhat. Which means I need to do this more.
I'm so glad I wrote this when I was feeling good and made this video because now I use it for inspiration. Because I need it. Desperately. And others will too. Please share it. I think it's a message worth sharing.
The previous post spoke of my misery over the past year, so this will be much more positive.
Here is the second poem that I mentioned in the previous post. It was going to be another miserable one from earlier this year but I changed it. No one wants to read of another's misery. Besides, it's much more upbeat! And I don't want to appear that I've been wallowing in it. I've been fighting hard the entire time. As my partner can testify. I want to be better! And finally, I am feeling better, albeit a long way to go. With a little helping hand, you might say. This recent poem explains all.
There's a short video below that and also something positive to end on!
Looking to a better future
Above the Abyss
I no longer want to die
I’ve scrambled
To be my own saviour
No self-help book or video or psych
Can do the work
That only I can do
Must do.
However,
I did receive a helping hand
Of sorts
From the Great Beyond
If one believes in such things
Which I don’t
And yet,
I cannot deny
That through my grandmother’s death
It forced me into a position
Of having to travel interstate
And face my difficulties
I believed impassable.
To rephrase
In her death
She helped me to live.
I did five days of travel
With the support of Taylah
And did it well
Including reading a poem I wrote
(That alone surprised me)
At her graveside service
And felt good for the
Great bulk of that trip.
I returned to Sydney
As did the anxiety
Which caused me to fall
Into a depressive hole
Nothing like having experienced freedom
And joy
After months of intense suffering
Only to be re-incarcerated
A form of twisted torture.
Since then
I’ve had the odd better day
And implemented positivity
Faked,
Over and over
Until it began to make inroads.
Now I’ve had a string of good days
Again, with the enforced mindset
Becoming my own Life Coach
And while there are setback days
I do believe I’m slowly emerging
Back into life
Out of the cell
Of my own design.
At least
I want to live
That is, its own
Sign of success.
5/5/25 11.45 pm
(My nephew’s birthday).
The last time I saw my grandmother, in Sept, 2023
The poem I read at my grandmother's service, Our Beloved Pioneer, appeared in a country publication too, submitted by my grandmother's son, my father.
Perhaps I'll share the full poem sometime, if anyone is interested
Here's a short video I made about depression. Melancholy has followed me about forever and a day too but I'm also quite upbeat. An introvert and extrovert. Those who know can testify to the upbeat me. Most have not seen the other. I've learnt over the years to hide it well. Thus the nature of the mental tussle. It's an battle oft done silently.
Way back in 1992, I made a short film about a man who loses control of his mind after a series of life blows. Knowing my own mental state at times, it wasn't a huge stretch.
Enough misery now! Please feel free to share your story, feelings or even the post itself. It's good to talk about these things. Especially when I'm doing better. I think when people are really suffering, they're quiet. That's when others should become worried. I know I've come close to suicide many times in the past year. It scares me now when I think back to how viable an option it seemed.
I have a ways to go but signs recently are good. Not great but trending upwards. Day at a time. Keeping calm and staying positive are my weapons. (Just don't tell a depressed person to be positive. They're too far gone. It's near impossible).
I only became that depressed because the anxiety was so severe it made my life unbearable. It was only through some respite via cold showers, swimming and Valium plus distractions like faking it, playing music, dancing, talking to myself and the support of my girlfriend that I was able to rise enough before I could even entertain the idea of being positive. Without some daily relief, I would have taken my life. I fantasised about it. I planned it. At one point I had razor blades hidden throughout the house. It seemed the only way out.
Enough.
Peace
Anthony
Ps I'm thinking of releasing a novel. Not sure which one yet. I've got a few. Either Ode to Dead Young Friends, based on four young people I knew who all died young or True Love Kills, also based on a true story but with a lot more fictional aspects about a teenage girl whose new school friends are involved in a terrible incident in which someone dies.
What do you think? The anxiety doesn't want me to do anything as it's all 'dangerous' but I have to keep pushing myself. This will be quite a scary exercise, unlike when I released books in the past when it was exciting. Still, I feel the work is good and should be out there. I think.
What are your thoughts on love? And for that matter, on happiness in general? And risk. And depression. And one's 'default state' as it were. Sum it up your own way. Just share your thoughts.
Like you, I have my good days and bad. Melancholy and anxiety has followed me around all my life, and sometimes I stop to document it. It's a form of therapy.
I do think it's getting harder to deal with. The last twelve months have been pretty serious. (Certain thoughts). I haven't written for months now. The struggle is very real. It's daily. I am grateful however, for my good physical health and that I'm still here. And that there are those who care about me. Some have no one. I don't know how they keep going.
This was written four and a half years ago.
Anchored
I scratch at the
air
Which chokes me
Tar like shadows
Heaving at my legs
And I’m sinking
Ever sinking
The surface
No longer a memory
Merely an idea
Out of reach.
A heaving, cloying
pit
With no end
No solace
Only the deep
rejection
and ill formed
assumptions
Like death
A new but darkened
existence.
Perhaps I died
already
And remain slowly
dragging
Through self-aware
muck
To catch up.
2020
I've actually done well to have stuck it out for so long.
Have you had long periods of depression or anxiety? Are you in a better place now? How did you get through it? I've done so much reading, watching and speaking to mental health people, but I'm still battling so I'm always open to listen.
Co-incidentally, I wrote this almost on the day itself, one year ago.
Closure
I want to save you
The time
And myself
Of the pitying parlay
And there’s no escaping it
In any regard
Though there’s a temptation
To just get it done.
12.40 am
21.9.23
A year old. No, not a healthy mindset. Yet, one that continuously rears it's ugly face and says, I ain't goin' nowhere. It's been pretty quiet at times down through the years, but it's always been there. Since teenage days.
Ink drawing by Thomas Nast, late 19th century.
Is it better to stay quiet or give voice to it?
I wrestle. I conquer. It inevitably returns. Creative expression helps?
Written a year ago. I'd happily go back to that feeling compared where I am now. To go into detail would be boring.
It is self pitying but I'm desperate really. I'm simply being honest with where I'm at. Sorry but not sorry. Depression (and in my case, severe anxiety as well) likes to have no company. It likes to stay silent. It likes to retreat. It's no fun place to be and I'd rather not be here. I'm fighting though. And I am trying to talk about it. I'm not giving up. But when the fight is within your own mind it's very tough to develop resilience. This is when others come in to help the person through, or in too many cases, doesn't come in and helps create an environment where suicide happens.
If you have compassion fatigue or 'mental health' burnout then maybe skip this. I get sick of my own voice on the subject at times. And there's so much talk about it now. Which is good though there's varying degrees of its intensity. Some suffer more than others. Some are more vocal. Some just want attention. Some think they have problems that are actually fairly light on. Some suffer in silence. Some forge through. Others don't make it. One thing's inescapable though, no one gets a bypass.
This was written in March of this year, 2024.
Marathon
I’m keen to ‘let it go’
Though keener
To have it set me free.
One feeds the other
The Black Dog
Chases its tail
Or in my case
Runs from it.
I can laugh too
At that image
It’s as silly as it sounds
In the same way
That its heartbreakingly pointless.
I’ll take more suggestions
And practice them
As desperation initiates action
Though I’ve heard them all.
Thirty years
Delivers a lot of alternatives
Some of which clearly works
Or I wouldn’t be writing this
At 56.
It’s simply stopped working
The options have dried up
And that circular chase
Is more exhausting than ever.
Only so many sinews
In these old legs.
25.3.24
5.10 pm
It's almost a cliche. But I am very worn out. This year... so exhausting. Five months on, it is worse. I had some sort of breakdown in May/June and I'm still struggling to get back to my normal. Which wasn't fun to begin with but it's preferable to where I'm at. (Anti-depressant issues are a big player. They've screwed me up. Story here).
Sorry to be such a bore. Writing itself feels helpful. And these posts, as brief as they are. I write down something to be grateful for every day. There's always something, even if minor in the scheme of things. We all push on as long as we can.
trapped in your head by elmuerteunicorn74-dab3qkc at deviantart
I'm my own worst enemy. Most of my (life-long) issues are between my ears. Anxiety depression etc.
When I wrote this four months ago, I was frustrated by it and came up with a type of solution.
Oh for God's Sake
It’s reached this point
As all drastic solutions do
Through a process
Of time funnelling
That realisation strikes
That the only true escape
Can be made possible
By ghosting myself.
I’ll shut myself
Down and out
Refuse to respond
Accept the inevitable
Acceleration
Borne of desperation
While burrowing into that hole
Head down
Arse up
Refuting acknowledgement
No matter
How hard the pounding.
Surely
I’ll get the hint eventually.
25.3.24
5.45 pm
(I was to get far worse over the following 3 months).
How nice it would be to be able to ghost yourself!
I think I am actually a good man. People tell me that a lot. I'm the one who struggles being within this frame.
'Caged without Walls' is a metaphor for not being able to escape yourself. It's the title of my 2013 poetry collection. The line comes from a poem in the book, I can't recall which. (Now 40% off).
This year, 2024 has been one of the worst for it. I had a difficult break-up with my girlfriend. I acknowledge much of it was my own reactions and fears. What actually matters is that my daughter is okay. My work is okay. I'm paying my bills and surviving, unlike many. My life is actually okay. But if your head isn't well, then it's a potential nightmare.
Indeed some people don't survive it at all. I hit a very low point this year. The lowest of my life. I was lucky to get out of it. I'm still struggling but working hard on getting better. I have a long ways to go for sure.
Ghosting
Do you have practices to improve your moods? Can you identify with wanting to escape, not just a situation but yourself? I'd love to hear your experience. And maybe learn from you. Despite everything I've read and heard over 'self-care' etc, I still need to hear it. And everyone's experience is not the same.
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