Never Been Heard

(formerly The Musings and Learnings of a Widowed Bipolar Mum)

Tag: ptsd

  • I hurt

    But I’ve been writing all day today and I’m still hurting. I do art with the same intention swapping around the bits of my brain used. But I’ve done art today too and still I hurt. It is hurt covered in a blanket of internal rage. There are too many layers to reach it today.…

  • Lemonade for the Renegade

    Your immaturity finds it’s way to the stage in rage. Forceful and Fierce, I cause you to disengage. A futile routine seeking change, you’ll never reach that place Once more your default action is to confine me to a cage. You say, all the gang say, I don’t know how to behave. In reality, I’m…

  • Can’t knock me down (brief rape trigger).

    I’ll always be a winner Not held back by sinners I’ve worked far too hard To be held back by fucktards You won’t nail me to the cross I’m too fierce, I’m too boss. I won’t be restrained By those inflicting pain By your chit chat vicious, malicious Sending me back to him again. He’s…

  • Savage Sisters Try To Steal My Sanity

    Grotesque, greasy mouths, generate accusations and denunciations. They slip easily from the ugly, gaping holes of empty souls. Fired by spittle it’s plain to see they’re brittle. A pile of stinking crumbs makes it clear the source is dumb. But launched at someone with trauma, they penetrate the fragile aura. With the force of a…

  • Wading Through Treacle

    I’m not even writing Frozen, freezing, fighting All energy engaged on trying to be alive Cut off from the world just trying to survive. Staying alive Functioning Surviving Keeping cat and daughter thriving. My heart hurts but you can’t see it If you hold my hand You’ll feel it Look deeply in my eyes You…

  • The Ups and Downs of a Dysregulated Eater Part 2a

    HEALING MY RELATIONSHIP WITH FOOD accountable adjective Definition 1 : subject to giving an account : answerable I said I was documenting this journey in order to have some accountability. Today I feel the need to account for myself. I also have answers, just sadly no solutions yet. It has been a week of ups…

  • My Joy, My Sad

    “Roses are red, violets are blue, It don’t always be like that, but sometimes it do”. It’s been relentless for so long I’d say this is as bad as it gets. Most days an exercise in survival. It started with depression at age 15 and a Bipolar Diagnosis at 21, Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…

  • I’m sad today but I have hope

    Hi. Happy Saturday. It was a happy start to the day having a brunch date with my teen where we ate a spectacular pancake stack dripping with Greek yoghurt, fruit compote and loaded with blueberries. I love walking with linked arms down the street with her and having some quality time. She’s so busy these…

  • In death we did not part-Sometimes that’s a bad thing

    Thanks for staying in my absence. My daughter is well now and gone back to school full time! So I am back to writing. Back to the blog and back to my (new) book. Things have taken a slightly different turn and so will my writing. You have seen my total adoration of my deceased…

  • The Silent Scream

    The Silent Scream-A Scuplture In My living Room Heavy head, metallic and cream, Face lined with fear, a silent scream. Cracked and cold, chills my hand and my heart. This perfect sculpture is where we start. Eyes fiercely pinpricked, A soul that is old, A young aged face, a story untold. Deep-set eyes, Dark shadows…