Being Bald

It all started with these patches,
And brown strands on my pillow.
Tears fell like a blues harmonica,
And my words became lost at sea.
At that moment a freak was born,
Not yet thirteen and I was bald.

At school I wore a wig with a band,
And felt their eyes burning in green.
Depression suffocated me inside,
And yet outside no blood would fall.
Scarred forever when the wind blew,
And they laughed at me being bald.

By university it had gone all over,
And no funeral pyre or wake held.
So I grew to loathe how I looked,
And felt I had no human worth.
For who would love such a freak,
And just like an ogre I was bald.

Years passed until therapy begun,
And joined the dots with words.
Taking photographs was some fun,
And then I took that first selfie.
Forced to see my reflection a new,
And saw a woman, scared and bald.

That began the journey to find me,
And remove the ogre forevermore.
Realising the lab was far from me,
And wondering just where did I fit.
As I heard that bird sing in a tree,
And wished to be as free not bald.

Switching test tubes for Biro pens,
And microscope for camera lenses.
I discovered the woman I am within,
And found a rag doll not an ogre be.
Now I accept with kindness and love,
And being bald is just part of being me.

© Fi S. J. Brown

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End the stigma

When we search Google it uses a function called ‘autocomplete’, which means we see search predictions that might be similar to the search terms we are typing. For example, as we start to type new york, we might see other popular New York-related searches,

This function can be useful when searching. However, not all of them are positive. These pictures I found on Pinterest from someone who found what showed up when looking up terms relating to mental health. It is frightening to me how some assume or feel regarding it. How can we hope people seek help when some view mental health like this?

Remember – just because we cannot see someone’s depression, can we not see their tears; just because we cannot feel their pain, it does not mean it will go away like a headache with a tablet; just because someone hears voices, does not mean they’re going to kill others; and just because someone is suicidal, does not make them crazy or selfish.

This is why we need to end the stigma of mental health. It can only be done together. At least 1 in 4 of us will experience mental health issues in our lifetime, reach out to help someone not push them away. Hollywood and the media paint mental health one way, let us paint its true colours not the black and white they use.

© Fi S. J. Brown

   
    
   

Depression Awareness Week 2015

Today sees the start of depression awareness week 2015. It is incredible how one word can scare us; a diagnosis that suddenly makes us seem different to others and/or not normal any more (or so we/others are tend to believe).

Just because we cannot physically see it, and unless we or someone we are close to does, it may seem unreal but it does not take away from the hidden torture, pain and tears it brings. Some self harm just to give these feelings a life, I choose to use creativity.

Someone with depression for example is unlikely to deliberately hurt others but may push someone away as cannot understand how we feel. Equally, not everyone spends every minute crying or want the pity of others, we just want to be accepted as we all do.

I have been depressed since I was a child; on the tummy of a Care Bear I saw with a cloud and rain, that’s how my own felt. From my teens to my twenties of hidden tears till reaching breaking point. My thirties are the happiest I have ever been.

My closest friends have helped me learn to smile; one told me recently to keep smiling and we all believe in you. Depression is part of me, but does not define me. It is a label or box like any other, which belong to foods not humans! So this week be grateful for all that makes up our lives.

© Fi S. J. Brown