Jennifer Brea had encephalomyelitis
She was examined by the best and brightest
She was told that anxiety was the cause
These kinds of mistake should give us pause.
Heide Ferrer got tremors and vibrations
Told it was depression, imagine her frustrations.
She took her own life, long covid is now supposed
Another disease dismissed, not diagnosed.
Alison McCabe was in severe pain
She was told it was the flu, so why complain
But it was the side effect of iron infusion
It was the doctor, not her, who had the delusion
There are other cases, if you search you will find
There's a catch all basin of "all in your mind"
some patients even accused of seeking attention.
If docs don't know, maybe best course is abstention.
The process of elimination can be a dead end
If you assume its mental, patient may not mend.
But don't make the mind the dumping ground
For every mystery not yet found.
i sat down,
and filled out an online questionnaire ,
that they didn't write,
they wanted me to lie,
pen tapping,
like a slow drumroll before the painful hanging.
have you ever felt hopeless?
who hasn’t?
do you ever think of dying?
don’t we all?
do you hear voices?
only the single one that keeps me company.
the questions were rigged,
like a loaded deck,
at the hard rock casino here in Tampa.
she wasn't even a shrink,
and now her words decide my fate,
words scribbled for a paycheck
stamped official by women in white coats
who don’t care if I make it out alive.
they called the sheriff,
had me cornered,
had me drowning in fear,
be honest, but not too honest,
or we’ll make the choice for you.
betrayed by health and psychiatry
betrayed my trust,
betrayed by a system they help fix,
that never wanted me well,
just wanted me quiet.
i am,
closer to seventy than to sixty,
why don't I have the right to have some control over what I put into my body?
the same control that they want over
their reproductive rights, wombs and -
Destroy your mental health and your dark brain!
Kill your nervous system, mine is intact, and gene.
I am a gene, stay away, you are a psychopath fate.
A psychopath, a sociopath, a monster, and a fake.
You are not a Tudor of the soul! Only a bad tale.
Money and power-hungry living death. Killer scare!
There are folk, in church or non-church family
Abounding in warmth; "Hi folks!" with charm
Least expected ... On the couch, deep memory:
Kind misdeeds, intent ignored: cut on thy palm
NOTE: a pastor may counsel successful churchgoers & find unsorted anger & hurts, rumbling & smoking with volcanic ferocity. Watch for small signs: the unkindly cuts from charming people. So, talk ....talk, talk, talk. Someone will listen so that volcanoes will be natural disasters, not human. Shalom ShalOm
He’s a man of few words when he wants to be
And his silence can rival the Sphinx,
But be spins a good yarn during therapy
With his analyst pouring the drinks.
His obsession with fishing’s a mania,
Always dying to dangle the bait.
His aversion to marriage, a phobia,
His fiancée will just have to wait.
It’s all cowboy psychiatry, mirrors and smoke
In some Freudian home on the range.
Though this good ol’ boy’s often laid out on the couch,
I don’t think he’s likely to change.
He’s obsessive compulsive habitually
In matters to which he is drawn,
And he’s down at the topless bar ritually,
Unless there’s a football game on.
He’s conflicted about schizophrenia,
Thinks anxiety’s nothing to dread.
He exhibits selective amnesia,
And he’s passive aggressive in bed.
It’s all cowboy psychiatry, cognitive bull,
And those inkblots are all kind of strange.
He’ll always deny its denial, no doubt.
I don’t think he’s likely to change.
Regardless his problems,
He’d rather be thera-pissed off, than thera-pissed on.
Memories' claws catch weakness, sore substitutes for truth
Mind's future sambas hipswung with anticipated brew
Mother bird waits for non viable form to peck forth
- Maybe deserves haven, hollow where wings never grew
Taken for pyschiatric watch, her dignity snatched
Wheeled through corridors' dizzying demented askew
Violent spine flings translate her refusal to succumb
Praise oblivion wets periphery drenched in dew
Crazy called, insane answered, chat ensued furious
Before corridors consumed, dance quenched, she flew
Rhythm of obedient pulse beeps sanity's seep
Doctors molest old memories trenched, vague faded few
Sigrid's void has only her instinctive drive to leave
Hopeful risen dandelion seed on next gust blew
August 30th 2020
Syllable count per line is 13.
Bears no representation
to my experience
(just thoughts)!
Flying Psychiatry
A possibility so endless, uneducated guess
Pharmaceutical addiction to pills of stress
Suicidal thoughts confessed it was me more or less
The cleanest neat mess, all the luck I press
Even God will not Bless all this unfaithfulness
One F'ed up quest, another F graded test
A mind that never rests, always second best
Another one just flew over the Cuckoo's Nest
bmdavey@05/08/16
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