mental illness – Navin's Poetry

The Sharp Edge

I’m freewriting in the dark with the diamond blade
The sharp edge is dancing wild with the lightning speed
The sparks of these lines re-form that lively phase
When I was drawn to this life on my dying slate
Hemorrhage had hammered my house in the surprising way
I was down on the floor when I finished eating my evening meal

I couldn’t rise & walk towards my grounded bed
I was struggling quite a lot with no balanced stance
So I began to slowly crawl with my warrior pace
While I was holding the drops from my sighing face
I was living that instance so raw from the shocking place
So I broke into small pieces & some enormous like the shiny vase

Tears did the crystal clear talk on my wavy stage
Fear started to poke delicate walls of my clotted brain
I couldn’t sleep under the sheet at all for several nights & days
That scene was running in slo-mo like the never ending race
I would replay & then simply pause to absorb & sense
It was an unbelievable moment after all of my reality check

The Universe was initiating a call to tell it’s time for a change
Coz I had been sleeping for too long in the shallow depths
I felt instantly I wasn’t resting anymore in the coffin case
That waking up call made me explore the enlightened space
Weakness in me to the core but I started to gain some strength
It’s time to transform my spots into the constellation of true self

This is pure sharing based on my experience…I’m neither suggesting anything nor giving any kind of advice…I’ve observed one thing about trauma in me that it doesn’t leave the body & the system…and perhaps, it will never…but the way I deal with it has changed…if I’m open to see it with the eyes of acceptance, understanding & compassion, then it doesn’t affect me with the same intensity as it used to…a mood swing is bare minimal…sometimes I do relive those scenes through the memory screen…but I don’t stop that “movie” instantly even when it’s not a nice place to be…the magical fireworks of healing has different colours, projections & decibels…it’s not necessarily a peaceful process…I feel, it’s better to see & observe the traumatic experience mindfully & let it slowly settle down than to simply block it…feel it, be with it & talk about it to the trusted dear ones and/or seek professional help if necessary…and of course, write poetry or choose another way to express it…

I’m simply sharing that hospital scene from 2019 in the form of this poetry…my purpose isn’t to gain sympathy nor am I feeling sorry for me…coz I know what I have…I have fully accepted it & I have made peace with it

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Blessing

Original poetry

You can call me brain dead
Coz I’ve got some vain veins
Countless spots in the insane scans
They look like microscopic yin-yangs
If I describe their transparent appearance

You might stare at me why I’m showcasing this story
It’s just my way to walk on this unending staircase mindfully
It’s my way to create the space, it’s sort of my own therapy

Brain hemorrhage on the right side had brought me to 3 hospitals in 2019
I was told I was close to die when the neurosurgeon detected a second bleeding
This critical sickness had loaded me with a new baggage of mental instability
I had to relearn how to sit, stand, move, focus, sense, grip through different therapies
The nights were crazy tough with restlessness, body pain & arrows in my head feeling

Now let me switch off the lights to show you a sparked scene
One day I was sitting on a chair in my hospital room to eat my evening meal
Later I wanted to simply relax after taking those heavy pills
But I fell off my chair when I tried to stand up on my unsteady feet
I took the chair down as well coz I had absolutely no balance in me

I was struggling to elevate myself with no tactile sensation in my left arm & hand
So I started to slowly crawl on the floor towards my elevation bed
The climb to reach my bed was hard as if I were climbing the Mount Everest
Sweat on my face but I did pull myself up against the gravitational shreds
At this point I realized, I was very sick & quite damaged

I started to ask several questions to myself
Would I be able to speak with the same depth?
Would I be able to walk without losing the balance?
Would I be able to work just like the old days?
Would I be there for my loving family?
Or am I nearing the death bed, this is it – the end?
Tears began to fall coz the new state wasn’t easy to comprehend

Trip-Track was the subconscious sign prior to the bleeding I visioned
It’s a poem that came to me before this all actually happened
I felt the bleeding had a purpose, there was definitely a deeper reason
Perhaps the highest source had decided to reset my seasons
Perhaps it wanted to shock & shake me to awaken my senses

So now you know why I’m sharing this old incident
It’s not about gaining sympathy or feeling sorry for myself
It’s to see above & beyond the eye’s strength
It’s about the deeper calling & to embrace the present
It’s a blessing that I’m still wearing this body as a sacred present

To order my poetry collection – Lightning Rhymes, please click here ✨

You may also follow @navinspoetry_ on Instagram.