mental health awareness week 2o24

Mental Health Awareness Week serves as a time to recognize individuals facing mental health challenges. It also provides an opportunity for advocates to raise awareness and address mental health issues. Together, we can strive for change and make an impact comparable to an earthquake, fostering a healthier relationship with mental health.

During this week, we come together to support one another in our mental health journeys. we take the time to listen, to offer words of encouragement, and to spread kindness like seeds in a garden. Just as an earthquake can reshape the land, our collective efforts can reshape the way society views mental health.

By fostering open conversations and promoting understanding, we can create a world where mental health is embraced without judgment, where seeking help is seen as a sign of strength, and where every individual feels supported and valued. Together, we can make a difference, one conversation at a time.

Please be warned as the following may be triggering.

Dreams

WRITTEN BY kay loveday 

I met you in my dreams last night

As I waited at the theatre door

You wrapped me in a warm embrace 

That left me wanting more

We reunited in my dreams last night

We danced through golden leaves

Immersed in our love for one other

But when awakened,  my heart grieves. 

You came to me in a dream last night

Our toes frozen on a winter’s day

Our shadows stretched across frosted fields

But in dreamland we cannot stay.

We lay together in my dreams last night 

Our bodies connected as one.

Two souls entwined in primal passion

But detached by the rising sun. 

I heard you in my dreams last night

Through the fog I heard your song

I longed for you to stand by me

But this time you didn’t stay too long

I saw you in my dreams last night 

You had a face I didn’t know

I mourn for you, as when the sky glows blue 

It’s time to let you go. 

I still look for you in my dreams at night 

Waiting for you at the theatre door

But in dreamworld I now stand alone

You don’t come here anymore.

I will feel at home

WRITTEN BY HAZEL MUTCH

I will feel at home in this world 

when we can be soft again.

When it is understood that so much of us is delicate

and is meant to be.

We are so fine tuned,

such responsive instruments.

It is not a fault to feel.

How can we be concrete neat

when really we’re soil and seed;

subtle roots pulsing with the seasons,

receptive bells chiming with each other

even across the world.

Is too much asked of us, or too little?

Such scarce welcomes for our sensitivity.

Our sensitivity – our tender power.

The time to push and the time to yield

cannot be determined by a clock,

or a committee, or a government.

Our intelligent edges, the tendrils of our nerves

tell us, so precisely, what we need.

Go outside and see what bends in the breeze.

See what turns to the light, or seeks shade.

Even a rock can break away under pressure

and be taken by gravity, allowed

to tumble into the soft skin of the sea.

Tough exterior

WRITTEN BY James Mee

Such an open book .. 

instructions to life i dont look 

Intrusive thoughts enter my dome .

All this time i just wanna go home .. 

Ride these emotions recklessly.. 

No1 wants a guy like me .. 

But I think im a catch ..

Friends like me theres no match ..

Passion in everything , all for you 

I hate feeling unwanted in most cases i do 

Feelings of burden and shame come too

I swear i do anything even with the flu 

Yeah the life i had wasnt all gravy 

Mummy Screaming and hitting her baby .. 

But we’ve all had hardships growing up fast 

So theres no excuses dont look in the past 

Face your fears , fight your battles 

There will be a day your telling your tales 

Break and rebuild brick by brick 

So you can be stronger and harder to kick .. 

Serenity Player

WRITTEN BY Nathan A S Armstrong

I’ll tell you sincerely I want to find peace

Ask that you show me the meaning of grace

Grant me the courage , grant me the calm

Take my body in the quiet of your arms

But soon my skin will be aching to burn

To the flame my fingers always return

I didn’t mislead you, it’s not that I lied

I swear that I meant it, I promise I tried

At the time, it was the stillness I craved

And the baptismal feeling of being saved

Only briefly in gentle waters I swim

Before chaos calls me back home to him

Obedient as a son I make my way home

To sit at the feet of my dark demon’s throne

He lets me play sometimes out in the light

Then makes up my room in the palace of night

Settled once more in his attentive care

He knows his boy is a serenity player

                       

Lost 

WRITTEN BY BETH DAVIDSON

Teach me how to find all that I’ve lost.

Life’s journey has come at a crippling cost. 

This head could once hold incredible things

And I blossomed with the beauty that a growing mind brings. 

But my path has been perilous and pitted with potholes.

I’ve met gravel and graveyards that have gangrened my goals. 

Thoughts like feathers have flown from my wearied wings.

Darkness is deaf and misery clings. 

The joy I once knew and the sense I once had

Disappeared with despair and my murky mind mad. 

Irresponsible innocence fled.

Inspiration and light from vital veins bled. 

I am drained and draughty like a haunted house. 

Now I crawl through corridors like the loathsome louse. 

Empty of the epiphanies I emitted and shone.

Eyes deaf, ears blind, all meaning gone. 

I once held a library within my being.

But the books are all burning, their words frying or fleeing. 

Suffering and soot are all that remains.  

Can I be born once again from these ashy grains?