"The Drifter (A Life of Trauma and Mental Illness)"
.
.
I was told all my life,
That I was stupid and lazy.
In school, I drifted
Into my own little world.
.
At home, I was criticized
And made fun of for
Wasting time creating
The things I loved to do.
.
I loved art (mostly drawing).
I loved building and making things.
And most of all, I loved music.
.
All of which my family
Thought was a waste
Of time.
.
In school, I didn't focus.
I was too anxious there.
Like wanting to **** myself,
To not have to go.
.
This was embedded
Into my brain, daily.
And I learned to believe it.
It continued throughout my life.
.
So, I kept to myself.
Or hung with the wrong crowd.
This became my life.
.
Alcohol and drugs were all
I thought about.
It was almost a daily activity.
And I lived to survive.
.
I am fifty-five now, and finally
Starting to love myself.
I live with mental illness,
Schizoaffective Disorder, and
Severe anxiety, to be exact.
Both of which rule my life.
.
I am learning slowly to live
With them, but life is hard.
I live it one day at a time.
I have to, it's the only way.
.
.
A poem by Garry Ventura
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 1:48 PM UTC
"The Drifter (A Life of Trauma and Mental Illness)"
.
.
I was told all my life,
That I was stupid and lazy.
In school, I drifted
Into my own little world.
.
At home, I was criticized
And made fun of for
Wasting time creating
The things I loved to do.
.
I loved art (mostly drawing).
I loved building and making things.
And most of all, I loved music.
.
All of which my family
Thought was a waste
Of time.
.
In school, I didn't focus.
I was too anxious there.
Like wanting to **** myself,
To not have to go.
.
This was embedded
Into my brain, daily.
And I learned to believe it.
It continued throughout my life.
.
So, I kept to myself.
Or hung with the wrong crowd.
This became my life.
.
Alcohol and drugs were all
I thought about.
It was almost a daily activity.
And I lived to survive.
.
I am fifty-five now, and finally
Starting to love myself.
I live with mental illness,
Schizoaffective Disorder, and
Severe anxiety, to be exact.
Both of which rule my life.
.
I am learning slowly to live
With them, but life is hard.
I live it one day at a time.
I have to, it's the only way.
.
.
A poem by Garry Ventura
My poem of life with daily trauma and mental illness.
Request permission to use this poem