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  • Writer's pictureMoneer

Waiting for the tide to come in.


Mental Health can be such a fickle thing.


At the moment I find myself sitting on the shore, waiting for the tide to come in, bringing with it a storm. Have I survived these storms before? Yes. Will I survive this one? Yes. Can I stop this from happening? I don't think so. I can already feel the winds, I guess I have to just stand strong and wait for the storm to pass.


What triggered this? Surprisingly, visiting a old friend in hospital. I went through the motion that these places always give me, the feeling of entrapment and fear. It's always been one of my greatest fears that one day my mental condition (autism) would get so bad that I would be locked up in one of those nightmarish Asylums you see in horror films (Its an irrational fear obviously). This place however had such a gnawing heavy energy to to it I could feel my sanity waning, As an Actor (Such an Actory thing to say) I'm not used to environments taking my ability to talk away but this place? Completely muted me. The films? they're not too far off with describing mental health units, well ones that aren't private. Bless the NHS and the people who work for it, no doubt they're doing their very best with what little funding their given. This place was like something out of a film, a courtyard with a semi-transparent wall in the middle that separates the men and women, with some remnants of conversation between people through it. I kept worrying (and still do) about my friend in that place, she deserves so much better. One of the most terrifying things was how familiar this all was, the tight corridors, the staff members all trained to restrain you, other people battling their own demons. These are all traits common to environments I spent time in as a child. Did they work? Well that's a question for another time, I'm here but I don't exactly know what I can testify that too (Apart from the mercy of God of course). When I left, I could feel the weight on my mind still and I knew from then, the storm was coming.


Its almost like your body tells you, you're about to go through an episode. Time passes more slowly, humans words tend to hurt more, the body weighs more and my bedroom? slowly consumed by mess as the motivation to clean becomes absent, as though its the first reserve system the body dumps when it gets to the beach. Other things quickened the process, the faux smile I have to force at times at my job, certain racist presidents blaming "certain" Terrorist attacks on mental health and just the overall state of the world feeding directly into a brain that has already set a ball rolling into motion. Overall, this week has been a hard one, completely out of the blue. I've tried to swim against the current but I feel it's just best to sit the storm out. It won't be a long one, I hope not. For now, I'm sending all my love to the future Moneer reading this, no doubt embarrassed of me. Hey man, you're only human. Glad to see you're doing better. Drink some water x


On a last note, what did I, the artist do when I found myself so disturbed? Well I wrote a poem of course, check it out https://www.moneer.co.uk/the-fear


Anyway, I've got my raincoat ready, a calm sea never made a good sailor. Keep being amazing, all of you. No matter what demons you're fighting, you will win. Just remember, this is a marathon and an obstacle course, do not punish yourself for falling off the ladder, because your place is saved, hop back on, keep on climbing. The summit is almost in sight. Stay beautiful, stay wonderful, stay you x

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