Motherhood, Madness, God and Me

Tomorrow is a new day, Full of new promises, When you rush through the day, Tomorrow is always there to say, Don't worry tomorrow it can be done, Tomorrow we can try again. Tomorrow's exciting promise, Every morning when you wake. A bit more time to finish today. More time to play They say Don't leave till tomorrow, Why you can do today. Sometimes tomorrow seems the same. Tomorrow is so different from today. No joy before you settle down, Tomorrow you'll still feel like you'll drown. What if tomorrow never came? What if today was the end. Would you regret the things you put off? Would you ponder if that phonecall, That text, that knock on the door, Shouldn't have been tomorrow's chore? Would you beg for another tomorrow? Would you mourn your yesterday. Today someone needs you. That phone call can't wait. A chat, a cuddle, a hand to hold, Responding may mean more than gold. So don't put it off, don't delay. Someone...

What does it feel like? What is dying like? Do you see your life, Flash before your eyes? Does it hurt to die? Is like sleeping? Do you walk to light? Or fall to darkness? Do you know you're dead? Do you float above? Out of your body, Watching overhead. Do you feel at peace? Do you feel regret? Can you change your mind, If you choose to live? Do you see the Lord? Does he hold your hand? Does he welcome you, Home to rest in peace? Do you go to hell, Falling fast and hard. Perhaps you didn't love, Jesus after all. Do you just decay, Body in the ground, Eaten by the worms, Flowers growing round.

Why do you love me? What is it in me? Why do you love me,? What is it you see? Why do you love me? So not let me leave? What have I given you? That might make you grieve? Do you remember The times that we smiled? Is it those times that, Our laughter was wild? Is it because I, Showed my love to you? Is it because of, The things that I do? What are these things that, One day you will share, Things I have done and The ways I have cared? Is it your memory? Which may fade, But it is the things, On which friendship is made? Why if you love me? Do I feel so alone? If I am so loved, Is it with pain I groan? Why is it silent, When for help I ask? Why is loving me, Such a huge task? If loving me is hard? So hard as you say, Do you prevent me, From escaping this way? Why when your words, Show you find me a chore, Do you walk far away, To be friends no more. Why when you say, You love me still? My heart remains broken, Now too broken to fill. The whisper...

How do you get better? How do you recover? Do you suddenly wake with hope? Do you feel differently? Do you just notice after it has happened? What is recovery? Is recovery real?  How long does recovery take? Is it even possible? How will I know what recovery looks like? Why does it take so long? So long I gave up hope. What do I need to do now? To end this nightmare forever. I don't know how much longer I can bear this. How can I continue? To face another day. It feels like this will never end. They say it happens slowly. That recovery is possible for me. Do they really know that? Can it really be true? Is recovery possible? Is there a flicker of hope? Or is it just a fairy tale that's not truth? Each day that passes by, Hope slips further away. I feel this is life forever. The tunnel light seems dimmer. No hope, no light, just darkness forever more. I cannot see past this. The pain overwhelms me. I'm deep in a pit of despair. Recovery is a ...

There is a place in this world that only you can fill; and when you do not take this place it will always remain empty from the beginning to the end. You are not for nothing in this world! You are a building stone of the universe! It depends on you! You must be there!   PAUL KLEE {1939 } My counsellor shared these words with me today. I've decided to share them as it is World Poetry Day. A me shaped hole. I've often heard of the God shaped hole in a person's life. I'm sure some of my Christian associates believe this is true about me. I've not thought of a me shaped hole. I've pictured the world without me, but never as a gap. I've thought about being a missing mum. That was a mum shaped hole, not a me shaped hole. You are not for nothing in this world. I'm not sure I have left any mark on the world. My counsellor is so gentle. She very sensitively asked me to consider what my expectations of dying were. It was strange to hear such harsh soundi...