Lythop dividing, the head of a pebble plant,
A strange and unusual thing, oft overlooked,
Split down the middle, new heads emerge.
Fenrir rages, like a dog going mental,
Chasing its own tail, inside my mind.
A year after being diagnosed,
Severe Clinical Depression.
Still little help is offered,
A hand is stretched out to me,
To hold mine, to comfort,
An ear to listen, a shoulder to lean on,
Only to be withdrawn as they move on,
Abandoning to let Fenrir go wild.
My CPN, community psychiatric nurse,
My care coordinator,
Cancels and appointment, fails to get in contact,
I leave a message, it takes her 2 days to call back,
She is leaving.
That will be four CPN’s in year then,
Not much care coordination there then.
Do I want to passed on,
Passed on to another CPN or…
Possibly a social worker.
Are they serious.
No help, suicidal for a year,
No help, a danger to myself sometimes,
A danger to others othertimes,
Harm …the buzzword that moves,
Guidelines call to action on that word,
But once done it is back to just looking,
Looking at me.
Five months ago a psychologist assesses me,
Considers my drinking to be excessive,
Too excessive for psychotherapy to work,
Another bullshit guideline,
How much is an OK amount?
She won’t say,
Says she will asses me again in three months,
But I hear nothing.
With Fenrir by my side,
In my peripheral,
Twisting my melon man.