Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
And I suppose, I suppose it is so, this falling-apart thing that happens to my mind when I go temporary awry, momentarily insane, is this the pushing button inside, or on my brain that makes me ill for two closed months when I’m made to be locked away, my words spoken loudly in vain?
united as one recording my mind,my heart my body my soulthree unite know my allto time I am like a raging river gushed by a future seathere is reverence, not irreverence, yearning, deep within metemper yet the strangeness the dictations and rhythms of timesmile widely in the circumstancesbaby girl you’ll always remain minethere are times [...]
reduction of meds equals reduction of stability you’re questioned whether what you’re doing is right for you but I know it’s important to get this poison out of my system to slowly cleanse myself of it it’s been soaking my mind tainting my equilibrium. it can’t be healthy to be on high doses for years and years – when you are struggling the most, perhaps it’s important to have these as bandages to cotton wool my mind with white fluffy woollen balls but I need the reality of living without so much chemical restraint I’m just taking matters into my own hands it’s only weeks that I am not going to wait. the edginess in reduction is the worst part the raw red feeling of being scraped against a venomous spiked ceiling being dragged upside down feeling discomfort, exhaustion to the highest degree this dose has been with me for years I’m getting rid of it perhaps a little too fast, deplete it from me, just damned well leave my system, let me breathe. Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Today’s been a struggle I must openly admit, not feeling seasonal affective, but rather seasonally dejected, my mind, it swims with sadness, amiss is my prowess, my brightness gone, my ability to deal with rejection or silence when reaching forth to others with smiles or hopeful song. [...]
Look what they’ve done, prescribed those tiny bullets, dissolving, smoking gun. The lacklustre effect is taking, lethargy, it is growing, malaise, it is not helping, boy, these tablets are not assisting. But perhaps they’ll calm the mind in due time, relax, replenish, make the thoughts intertwine, as though ivy would, or thin rope, [...]
I am in my element in this state, perpetual song and dance, electrifying dopamine and serotonin I rise, I rise, I rise fast. My wit and charm seem perfectly at hand, I giggle, am sardonic, I laugh with ease, of this state I’m trying to comprehend. Is life playing tricks on me? Is [...]
The doctor gestures me in towards his consulting room, and I, I am like a tentative child who is out of place in this foreign world. For I have not seen this doctor before, why, I cannot even recall, let alone pronounce his complicated name, I had fronted to the desk claiming I had [...]
Author's note: This poem details a point in my mental health journey where I was hospitalised for extreme mania, grand delusions and psychosis. These could not be controlled with time and much medication, hence I was subjected to the often-controversial practice of electro-convulsive therapy. The poet whom I speak of in my poem is extremely [...]
- A/N: The audience here are figures of authority, such as a psychiatrist, therapist, or treating team, and here I try to explain my disdain for being analysed with little care for my personality and its traits, only based upon the bare clinical facts. - The medications cause a quagmire of swimming thoughts and regret, [...]
I jolt awake, back into the night, where I wearily breathe and pad around the kitchen and hallways without any sense of brightness or light. Sleepily, I guzzle liquids, after all, I crave them, strangely, must it be due to the medication once forcefully fed to me? I press myself to stay awake [...]
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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