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Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Hi all,

I have found throughout the course of my life that writing has been a constant companion to me. It has provided me with a way to vent my frustrations, to grapple with the eternal verities of life that confound and delight me, to explore ideas and concepts, and to try to put into words the often chaotic moods and thoughts that result from having a mind that's a little bit odd...

I have written lots of poems, especially in the last 3 or 4 years, dealing with depression and bipolar. They help me to process and understand some of the things that are happening in this twisted little noodle of mine. As such, writing has become one of my main forms of therapy.

One of the best things that I find about writing is that it can act as a kind of mood diary. I can read things that I had previously written, and it will quite often map out where I was at during the time of writing. The words I spread across the page act as signposts of my progress, too. As my self knowledge increases and my life journey progresses, I find that it affects how I write and what I write...

Often, we do not see the thousands of tiny little changes to our selves that our life experiences cause over the years. It can be very helpful to re-read old writings, in order to see how far we have come, what we have improved, where we have fallen back into old harmful habits, and the things that we have learned.

The language that we use in our writings and in our thoughts and in our speech is very important. It can reveal a lot about our selves, our states of mind, and our moods...

That language, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I believe that we attract certain kinds of people around us, and create (or at least influence) life situations based on our choice of language. It helps define who we are as a person.

Negative thinking, self-deprecation, self-hatred, these sorts of dangerous life traps are often revealed in our choice of words. So too are the positive things. It all starts with a glass. How we describe the glass and the quantity and quality of its contents, that's where language comes into it, and it can shape our very lives and the lives of those around us.

Writing... it is my solace and my main tool of self-analysis. It is my favourite form of therapy...

2932 replies

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In response to: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

In response to: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny BB you are a treasure x you are so talented. I love your work. Maybe you should try to have your work published. Just a thought. Love you peaxxx

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Yes I have @eth heard of that Mob.

It is a place I want to return to as we were abandoned in old house, near the beach, just after the fighter jet went down in 66. It all makes a lot of sense to me now, understanding the specific and historically real trauma triggers for my parents. Not just "delusions".

I felt very put down in my local Writing Group, just had to let all those aspirations go for a while. I was optimistic and generated good social outings, I hoped they might care, but my "creative" writing was probably still too difficult and not unpacked enough to stand as good writing, more as therapy.. but the stigma of suicide is all too confronting, and even though Grieve takes it seriously they also have to be protective for the general good of society. So the costs of suicide seem to last a VERY LONG time. Also struggling more with my son makes it feel very superficial to just wanna get published. Met a few good people in writing group but also NPD Vanity Publishing type. who was controlling with my son, but Thank God she went back to where she came from, instead of dictating her terms in my land of birth. I have published 5 poems in a small anthology and thats enough really. Thanks for suggesting it.

In response to: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunnyI really don't think people will judge your work. People will either not feel any attachment to it has they haven't experienced what you have or it will speak volumes to them. For a lot of us we don't know how to verbally express our selfs let alone write about it. To help us to know what it is we are feeling and understand why.

poets have the gift to help us understand ourselfs and connect to with our emotions.

so I for one would also hope you do publish a book one day.💻📇📚

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Bunniekins @Shaz51 @Dimity @Mazarita @Judi9877 @rivergal @Appleblossom @Former-Member @HenryX @eth and anyone else I've missed who is passing through. Sorry I've been a bit absent of late. Winter has beaten me up a little with the SADs and I tend to turtle and isolate when I'm not feeling well. Wrote this little ditty last night which has been the theme for the past week or so. Hope everyone is coping with whatever life is throwing your way. Big hugs to all, BB 🐰💙🌈

Insomnia

Insomnia, you dirty dog,

You hover with your velvet fog,
And keep my pupils wide awake,
Forbidding sleep I must partake.

Insomnia, you monstrous beast,
Inside my weary head you feast,
And conjure ruminating sorts,
That manifest from raging thoughts.

Insomnia, you wretched pest,
What have you done with all my rest,
You creep inside my sacred space,
Then slap me hard across the face.

Insomnia, you savage brute,
You raid my dreams and steel the loot,
Then force awake a new encore,
When all I want to do is snore.

Insomnia, you rabid fiend,
Where are the stolen Z’s you gleaned,
From underneath my pillow slip,
I think I need a benzo drip.

Insomnia, you rotten swine,
Don’t make me skull a jug of wine,
My eyes are bloodshot as it is,
And it’s too cold to take a whizz.

Insomnia, you sullen weed,
I need to sleep, don’t make me plead,
The sun is rising very soon,
I’m feeling like a crazy loon.

Insomnia, you lose once more,
A night of hellish underscore,
The sheep did bolt without a peep,
And finally, I’m fast asleep.

© BB – 22 May 2021

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Former-Member I grew up being judged and ridiculed harshly along with being emotionally neglected & abused, thanks to which I have c-ptsd. That makes it extremely difficult for me to put myself out there. There may come a day I will publish what I write in a book. But it is a very long way off. I'm only starting to begin to understand the depth of the neglect and trauma I suffered as a kid and how it's pretty much screwed up every relationship and friendship I've ever had. The fear of rejection and judgement and my mistrust of people runs very deep. I guess until I conquer that fear, I will stay inside my shell and just post some work on the SANE forums. Hope you are doing better my friend, hugs n love xxx BB 🐰💙🌈🤗

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Bunniekins @Shaz51 @Dimity @Mazarita @Judi9877 @rivergal @Appleblossom @Former-Member @HenryX @eth
Here's one from a manic spin a few weeks back. BB xx🐰💙

Madness

What is this madness poet’s seek,

That I should be, willing to speak,

From rooftops or a tower tall,

I hasten, for I dare not fall,

Into a fog or bleak abyss,

Where I shall feel an angel’s kiss,

That lifts my soul and spirit high,

So I can spread my wings and fly.

What is this sorrow poet’s write,

Beneath a dark and sullen night,

Of stormy heart and dreary mind,

And melancholy so inclined,

It touches festered wounds en masse,

That hide within a deep crevasse,

The silence holding deafened cries,

Averting life through sodden eyes.

What is this anguish poet’s bleed,

Evolving at outrageous speed,

A mixture of the here and now,

Transformed by convoluted vow,

All hailed by struggle, tos and fros,

Still stuck, until the movement grows,

And sheds new hope upon the plight,

Of souls that ravage in the night.

What is this boldness poet’s yield,

That I might abdicate my shield,

And throw all caution to the wind,

To battles waged and voices sinned,

But there is mystery I’m told,

Let every nook and crease unfold,

To spread your story far and wide,

Unto the corners which we hide.

What is this nonsense poet’s spew,

Whilst manic pages write anew,

Through ridges of a furrowed brow,

I cannot fathom why nor how,

But writing calls for mad decline,

And words reveal an ancient rhyme,

Not always in a choice of stead,

These words placate the wounds I’ve bled.

What is this candor poet’s raise,

A simple truth amongst the haze,

Of lies and unrelenting scorn,

Through tragedy a hero born,

To save the souls of dreadful past,

Enlightened by their minds aghast,

And tempered by the wisdom sort,

So hearts may rest from struggles fought.

What is this madness poet’s seek,

And should I now be drawn to speak,

That manic highs and bitter lows,

Are fuel to navigate my prose,

And bring me to a state of now,

So I may learn the truth somehow,

And right the wrongs of past refrain,

To soothe the madness of my brain.

© BB - 05 May 2021

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny reminds me of stages of my psychosis (that I remember that is). I felt so hurt physically and mentally ..... wonderful poem.

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Bunniekins Thank you my beautiful pea, now you look after yourself my friend. You let me know if you want me to post more poems for you to read in hospital. I can start you a special thread. Lots of love & bunny hugs sweetie xx

BB 🐰💙🤗🌈

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny I have an appointment with psychiatrist on Friday to discuss when she has booked me in. She has to talk with other psychiatrist as they will both be working in conjunction as apparently I am a complicated case. I wont take my cimputer with me so i will be a silent pea. I will miss you all so much.

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