Quick (ish) Intro To Beverley

Born up north!

Started Art Foundation Course.

Aborted Art Foundation Course largely due to there being a bar over the road which served cheap ‘Blastaways’

Started three year BA Hons Sociology & Law degree.

Degree hijacked halfway by symptoms of (at the time) unknown mental illness.

*FROM THIS POINT UP UNTIL CURRENT DAY I HAVE PERIODS OF EXTREME WELLNESS AND PERIODS OF SEVERE ILLNESS*

1996 – On 1st April I was sectioned for nine days under the mental health act
Finally graduated with BA Sociology & Law degree after six years!!

1997 – diagnosed with Bipolar 1.

Set up a business with my then partner – Brett.

Landed a job as a Business Development Manager with an advertising agency.

Got engaged!

Approached by commercial radio group to work for them – moved job.
Career involved two more companies.

2009 – Took massive overdose. Admitted to Northampton General Hospital – fiance advised I may not make it.

Years pass…
More years pass…..

Separated from finance – was incredibly hard to do, but the right thing. We’d been together for 17 years.

Dated everyman and his dog – I think I counted 42,879 first dates. I’m not even joking.

2014 – FINALLY!!!… met my husband Neil.

2014 – Five months later fell pregnant – I know – eeeek!!! Never been so excited in my life!

Became very very ill during pregnancy with both psychosis and depression. Was strongly advised to go into a Mother & Baby Unit but point blank refused as it was in Notts and my husband would’ve struggled to see us often enough.

11th June 2015 – Gave birth!!!!!! WHOOOOP!!!

June 2015 – Suffered severe post natal depression. In Nov 2015 I had ECT. Depression lifted but returned with a vengeance.

2017 – Tried rTMS in conjunction with Ketamine Infusions.

2017 – rTMS abandoned as Ketamine is more efficacious.

February 2018 – The pattern of my bipolar moods have shifted post pregnancy. Only now do my symptoms appear to be returning to how they were before I had my daughter.

The Rainbow

Rainbow-Dark-Clouds
Rainbow-Dark-Clouds

Am I a lemon?
Probably.
I’m black and blue?
Not visibly.
Am I all white?
Undoubtedly!
Do I turn green?
I hate to be.
Do I rage red?
I think you’ll see,
When you go pink,
Ashamedly.
I may turn black,
Oh yes indeed.
In my strange world,
Why can’t you see?
I’m fifty shades
And those between
On Pantone file
And nature’s tree.
A spectrum wide,
A palette, free.
This ever changing tapestry
With rainbow fabric?
THIS is me.

Why Writing Poetry Or Songs (or a blog for that matter) Is Cathartic

Writing poems helps brain cope with emotional turmoil, say scientists

Writing poems or songs – no matter how bad they are – could be good for mental and physical health Click Here.
Putting pen to paper is said to help the brain “regulate emotion” and reduces feelings of anxiety, fear and sadness.
Researchers claim the act of writing about personal experiences has a cathartic effect because it inhibits parts of the brain linked to emotional turmoil, and increases activity in the region to do with self-control.

Check out this TED video: Click Here
The quality of the verse or prose written has no bearing on the effect on the author. In fact, scientists suggest that the less vivid and descriptive the piece, the better.
Now they hope to develop therapies based on their findings that could be used to ease social fears and phobias.
Dr Matthew Lieberman, a neuroscientist at the University of California, outlined his findings at the American Association for the Advancement of Science in a lecture called Putting Feelings Into Words.
He said that expressing yourself in print was “a sort of unintentional emotion regulation”.
“It seems to regulate our distress,” he added. “I don’t think that people sit down in order to regulate their emotions but there is a benefit.
“I think it could play a role in why many people write diaries or write bad lyrics to songs – the kind that should never be played on the radio.”
Dr Lieberman proved the therapeutic power of writing by scanning the brains of 30 individuals while they described distressing pictures.
He found that the act tended to reduce activity in the amygala, a part of the brain connected with emotion and fear and increased activity in the pre-frontal cortex, the mind’s regulator.
This suggests that the mere action of writing about an emotion was a way of calming down the brain and re-establishing mental balance.
Often the author is unaware of the therapeutic effect of the task, it was claimed.

“If you ask people then they don’t think that it serves an emotion regulation but when you look at the brain that looks like what is going on,” he added.
“The more frontal activity we see, the less amydala response. There seems to be a see-saw affect.”
In another trial, writing was used in conjunction with exposure therapy for people who had a phobia of spiders.
It was discovered that writing about their fears actually boosted the effect of the therapy compared with people who did not put pen to paper.
“We do think that it has clinical applications,” Dr Lieberman said.
“People expressing negative emotional responses in words while being exposed gave them greater attenuation (reduction) of fear.”

Dr Lieberman said that the effect was negated if the writing was too vivid or descriptive because it led to people reliving their trauma. Also, typing was not as good as writing long-hand.
“You have to write about it in a detached way,” he said.
Asked why writers were often troubled souls, he said that the writing itself may be a reaction to severe emotional problems.
“I am sure that it is one of their motivators to write,” he said. “You have to ask yourself what they would be like without the writing.”

MY POLARITY

Ultraviolet fades to black, you want her back; you have her back?
The colour’s bright, dysphoric state, she’s losing hope, is it too late?
The darkness creeps and light is stole, her inner sanctum swallowed whole.
The fear and madness of it all as Reaper gleeful takes her call.

You know not what’s required of me, for through my eyes you cannot see.
You cannot see, you dare not see.
You will not see.

Kaleidoscopic tunnel dimming, even with euphoric hymn-ing
Singing “SAVE ME, SAVE ME PLEASE!” her rescue boat in fateful seas,
Does not pluck out the orange glow, nor see the beacon moored on shore.
Encased in cruelest cloud she sinks, no bringing back from brutal brink.

I know not what’s required of me, for through my eyes you cannot see.
I cannot see, I dare not see.
I will not see.

She dreams of decades future told, when stories of the ‘mad’ unfold.
When folk do not condemn her brain to confined walls of secret shame.
When folk embrace the plateaued times along with crazy mountain climbs
She longs for brand new century, when madness is her sanctuary,
In ever strange complexity, she can’t explain her mind you see
Oh will you ever truly see, the crux of her polarity?

WIRED TO THE MOON

Why keep feet on the ground when the stars call your name?

And why stay on one planet in life’s cosmic game?

Don’t matter ‘bout matter – all this comes to pass

A vacuum, a vortex, a meanlingless mass

Be all that you can be, whatever that is

And seize every second your days have to give

Make your life have meaning, have passion and zest

For all you encounter feel grateful, feel blessed

Don’t stay with a whimper then fade into dust

Leaving spaceship on standby to crumble and rust

You’re more than a comet, a planet or star

Much more than a cosmos or galaxy far

Don’t simply be ‘part of’, instead lead the gang

Refuse to go softly, go with a big bang

Have courage, be different, compose your own tune

Don’t ever be ‘normal’, be budding and bloom

Find your outer limits and orbit here soon

Why plug in to earth when you could be wired up to the moon?

TIME

 

“Time heals” they say, suppose this true

Then why am I still hurt from you?

“Time heals” they say, I can’t agree

My wounds are open still they bleed

“Time heals”; I wish, ‘cause maybe then

I could forget and start again

“Time heals the grief”; no chance I fear

Take more than time my pain to clear

Time heals the muddled tortured mind?

Just read my thoughts and you will find

The only thing that time can do

Is prolong the anguish caused by you.

THE WINDOW

You flicked my lock
And opened wide
My wall-less heart
And peered inside
You took my hand
You held my frame
Then smashed it up
“I’m not to blame”
You saw my soul
I gave you all
Still not enough
You watch me fall
For now I am right here for you
There’s nothing more to say or do
If you are torn, to us be true
Shut up and find a different view…

THE MAN WHO STOLE HER SONG

I close my eyes and think of you

My heart sings

I feel your soft kiss on my mouth
My heart sings

I hear you say my name out loud
My heart sings

I see your name on phone or mail
My heart sings

I watch you sleep and touch your face
My heart sings

The thought of meeting up again
My heart sings

**********************************
I close my eyes and you are gone
My heart cries

I feel your tender kiss no more
My heart cries

I hear you say one last goodbye
My heart cries

I feel your name etched on my brain
My heart cries

THE HAUNTING

 

Wherever I wander your face haunts my mind

Your powerful touch, overwhelming demand

Whenever I breathe I taste you on my tongue

I’m still hearing your voice through every love song

You’ve gotten me feeling emotion intense

The rest of my world it no longer makes sense

You, alone reduced me to this

Night after night I hunger your kiss

Even when I’m elsewhere in embrace

Doesn’t matter with whom

Or what time

Or which place

I’m in constant torment from the haunt of your face.

 

THE GIFT

 

God wanted revenge for the sins of the world

So he gave us this ‘gift’ without warning or word

Something tempting yet painful he sent from above

He looked on with pity and called this gift ‘love’