Posts Tagged ‘valium’

scream

Back ensconced in ward 8 Bentley Hospital in my flytrap mind

At least I’m with my crazy people

Suicidal ideation with cold claws of depression around my throat

Empathy and cigarettes as I meet the gentle mental

Telling tales of trauma as we lurch toward medication time buoyed by companionship

Memories of their voices

‘She was born a heroin baby’

‘I took an overdose of Valium and a shitload of antidepressants’

‘I tried to kill myself twice’

‘I wish I was dead’

‘I tried to hang myself with a sheet and the nurse found me’

People rendered fragile by the viscous blender of earth

Some think us hopelessly broken

We balance madness and sanity in our brains sometimes madness wins

Medication time, medication time

Drugs are shuffled by doctors and dolled out to wild-eyed victims of the societal meat-grinder

Titration of pills and prescriptions to quell anxiety, depression and delusion

Uppers, downers, round and rounders

Anti-psychotics, anti-depressants and heavenly benzodiazepenes

Then we sit outside in the courtyard to smoke to punctuate our day

Sharing cigarettes with noble depressives or exploring thought projection with shamanic schizophrenics

We dance a devilish dance in a rain of paranoia

Until it all becomes too much

We are sad, we are sometimes shattered

Sometimes hard to love

But we laugh and we smile too

Then howl out the agony of our souls

We will keep trying

To get our heads together

Next Day

Posted: October 12, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

valium_tablet__i2006e0134_disp

Piggelie on valium and weed was a very happy Piggelie

Oh the schemes he’d weave and the phosphorescent day-glo phantasms that lurked in his brain box

He felt capable of anything as all anxiety had gone

He felt more human and less tired from the wretched night before where no sleep was possible

He felt he could have a loving relationship with a human female well, for an instant

He felt this would not be possible until he lost 30 kg

heroinneedles

Victoria Park, early 2000s
I bullshit my way into a job in a drug rehab clinic
Schizoaffective poly-drug abusers
Manic depressive heroin addicts
Just plain depressive heroin addicts with a dash of PTSD
Lashings of ADHD criminals, usually on speed
All manner of benzodiazepine addicts
Benzodiazepines are the nastiest
Seizures if you go into withdrawal
There was one guy on sixty Valiums a day
All of them caught up in a spider web of chemical obligation and craving
Variables in the obscure calculus of tolerance and addiction
None of them ever thought they’d be addicts
Almost all have not two but four or five diagnoses- substance abuse and several psychiatric conditions
Never met a junkie without a mental illness
Eighty percent of them have hepatitis C
So many junkies continuously bitching and whinging
And no-one bitches and whinges like a junkie
Track Marks on arms and brain-stem
Paranoia
Depression
Delusions
No sleep
No hope
Voices telling them to kill themselves
Sexually abused by their fathers
All medicating their pain with drugs
And when you hear their stories
You don’t blame them

Their movements are wasted and agitated
Everything directs their minds to a continual craving
Desperation reeking, sneaking in and permeating the whole clinic
So much need, so much suffering, so much trauma
Endless longing for all manner of pharmaceuticals
To fill the vortex-hole in their souls

Half human-half corpses
Pinpoint-pupil eyes
Flickering about
A stream of lies on their tongues
They’d kick smack
And get addicted to buprenorphine or methadone
Which are more addictive than heroin
And don’t help much
But at least they won’t steal your video anymore