#schizoaffectivedisorder
"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
There are bugs crawling
beneath my skin.
I can feel them,
Deep within.
Devouring me,
From the inside out.
They'll eat my soul,
And carve me out.
I can't see them,
But I know they're there.
They're crawling in,
And crawling out.
I'm losing control.
What is it all about?
Psychosis makes things
Just appear.
I live in a world of shadows,
And fear.
Where I'm not in reality.
I'm slipping further than
I want to be.
I pray someone will
Rescue me.
A poem by Garry Ventura
© 2026 Garry Ventura
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 9:05 PM UTC
I was born this way.
An anxious soul.
A different kind of mind.
I am overwhelmed
With fear, and
Mental unsoundness.
It started as a child
Of about five, and
progressively worsened
Over time.
The feeling of fear.
Fear of my surroundings.
Of the people around me.
Now I fear leaving the house.
Just going outside is stressful
And overwhelming.
I try to force myself
To overcome this fear, but
Sometimes it is too much
To handle.
I started having auditory
And visual hallucination
Around the same time.
I lived in my own little
World, and kept to myself
Most of the time.
I played and created art.
I loved to draw, and
Play music by making
Instruments out of things
That I found around the house.
We didn't have a lot of
Money, so I made do
With what I had.
In my teens, I was an alcoholic,
and a drug abuser.
This went on for years, but
I quit that lifestyle in my
Twenties to be a full
Time, single dad.
The most important job
I have ever had.
My daughter's mother passed
at an early age.
She also had her demons.
Throughout my life, I had
Problems with substances.
Mostly legal, but substances
Just the same.
When I was in my twenties
I had my first full-blown
psychotic break from reality.
This was different.
I was now having dilutions.
This would continue
Throughout my life.
Medications didn't stop anything.
It only calmed the symptom.
I controlled the rest on my own.
I lived with them my entire life.
The hallucinations were
Manageable, and I could
Live a decent life.
I just had a few “friends,”
Along for the ride.
I'm now a lot older, and
Life is manageable, most
Of the time.
I still have my “imaginary
Friends,” but I tolerate them.
I wake every day looking
For the silver lining, and
I try to pursue a life of
Mental clarity.
A poem by Garry Ventura
© 2026 Garry Ventura
Apr 10
Apr 10, 2026 at 11:27 PM UTC
There is no huge brain inside of my dome, it was replaced with a slow metronome. It doesn't stop moving, just ticking and talking at night I'm out stalking the streets as my mood swings and sways to the beat in my head. Mania? Yeah, the opposite of dead but in depression I'm just hanging to life by a thread. Swinging back and forth with significant force like a ballpeen hammer, hard enough to **** a horse. Like a blunt force trauma bringing nothing but drama, so I tire of the fire and I suffer but whatever but the flames be growin' higher and it's an oil fire so don't be throwing water or it'll just get hotter and roar louder so dowse me with the baking powder, better yet, a better powder, ya got good coke? Can I get some of that snow chucked into my head sometimes the numbness is better than dead. To quote the great Tom Waits "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy." I'd say I agree. Though at the end of the day it's not up to me.
Jun 6, 2024
Jun 6, 2024 at 2:42 AM UTC