Friends,
Thank you,for accepting me,
For your honesty,
Even when it stings,
Your commitment, is in the truth,
Which you risk our friendship,
To honour,
This is love.
I am still me,
But better because,
Of you,
I lost myself in being a better man,
I faltered,
You were there,
With everything I needed,
To survive,
To thrive.
To come out the other side,
In the dark,
I feel you,
I am held by you.
You walk beside me,
Pushing from behind when needed,
In front,
Clearing the way when
I am overwhelmed.
Without your counsel,
I am stupid,
Destructive, and
Trapped with myself.
You have been there,
Through all seasons,
All reasons,
And for my lifetime.
You are,
My Band of Brothers,
I love you.
"I first started writing poetry as a teenager then over the years was constantly drawn back to poetry and over the years would occasionally put pen to paper when inspired. For my entire career I was a ‘first responder’ and eventually it took its toll and I retired on invalidity due to stress, anxiety and depression. I thought in retiring I would be ‘cured’.
I was also and orphan adopted out to a wonderful family and brought up in a loving home - upon retirement, still haunted by depression I found my birth family and have had wonderful reconnections. This didn’t ‘cure’ me either - although it filled my life with joy as do my 3 daughters finding their way in life.
In late 2018 I suffered a brain aneurysm and shortly after my marriage broke down. The combination of that with years of stress, anxiety and depression resulted in a stay in the ‘rural and Remote’ ward of the Glenside Psychiatric Hospital in Adelaide Australia. I was lucky as being from the country they found a bed for me and I received excellent treatment. During this humbling stay I started to write in earnest, mostly poetry describing my thoughts and experiences while in care.
Upon being well enough to leave I returned to my home in Berri, The Riverland, South Australia some 220 km from Adelaide and continued my writing. I have been writing my own blog for some years and looking back most of my writings have been a mask for my depression, stress and anxiety. I have found the change in my writing now being more honest, from the heart and helpful in my recovery. I think my recovery will be a lifelong trek. My writing has helped me mend the relationships which were damaged by my poor mental health, failing to admit it to myself, and not getting the treatment I needed.
I am now 58 years old and believe I am in the best mental and physical health I have been in for years, if not ever. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my poetry and maybe in the future some short stories and hope more than anything else, they help someone on their trek."