Tag Archives: Disease

Why Mental-Illness Can Save Someone’s Life

We're all a little insane

Why Mental Illness Can save Someone’s Life

So I’m crazy. The doctors drilled it into me, mom and dad wept for me, brothers and sisters didn’t pick on me and friends stayed clear of me. Can you blame them? But we’re all a little crazy, the world is one big mental asylum and all the countries are personal padded cells for all nationalities. But in this day and age, broken is the new fixed.

And for me as a warped minded writer, this gives me a certain advantage over other scribblers out there. Yes, they have fancy educations. Yes, they have big bank accounts. Yes, their daddies know the right people and connections. But no, they do not have a genuine gift as I do. Yes, I am poverty ridden, broke to pockets seams. I failed high school, except for English. This is where I triumph.

I do remember heading to school once; my feet sprawled out on the top deck of the double-decker bus. I was having major headache recently, but I hide it well because I had no one to complain too. I was still a geeky teen in high school. My bus stop was coming up and I stood and shaking I walked down the bus aisle. As I reached the stairs blackness hit my eyes and the next thing I knew I was on my back covered in cuts and bruises and a bus full of people laughing at me. I made a hasty retreat from my embarrassment.

That was the first time I blacked out, this was the onset for something dark coming into focus readying itself to consume me. I at never played truant from school, I always did the right thing, which made me a target for the bullies. I never wanted to be this guy but this is the result of my history that shifted my geography, since then my mathematical problems doubled, tripled and quadrupled and within my science all I am left with is the P.E. I learned that made me run away with a pipe-dream for bad English and dark-side of the human anatomy and biology for my evil fiction homework.

But as my good behaviour shifted into a bad attitude, I felt I gain control of myself, finally. No longer was I a robot stricken by routine. And when my imagination hit me between the eyes, I concocted a devilish plan, use what I have and write everything you can.

Now this is easier said than done; especially when you have no money, no help and no readers. First thing was first, I needed a computer. I needed money for a computer, I needed a job. For a job I needed the right grades, which I didn’t have. Shop work it is (I am still working here by the way.) So now I have my computer, a little money, not a lot but hey, we writers have to start somewhere.

But if it wasn’t for my mental illness, I’m sure I would have given up on my life a long time ago. So now I plod on with my damaged baggage dreaming of something I can only imagine.

But I am sure, as long as I jot down all I can and keep reaching out to people, one day my dreams will come true. I am working on my second novel, which will shock the pants off this world, but I know you will enjoy it.

And I am still blogging short stories and creative writing; from time to time waving my poetic pen across the paper for you too.

So keep reading

And keep your pens busy.

Psycho for life!! Haha!



Filed under 2014, Articles, Author, Blog, Blogging, Celebrity, crazy, Creative Writing, Entertainment, Fiction, Help, Life, Literacy, Mental Health, Misc, News, News #2, Random, Uncategorized, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

Letter to my Future Children

Hey kids, this Dad.

This is a letter to my future children; a small light upon my all darkness.

I want to tell you the story of my life before you were even born, so you know what I was like around the age you are now. First off, dad was a mental patient; the worst time of my life, I almost lost myself which could have reflected on you never being born. But I want you to know, you are my legacy! You will help our blood carry-on, as well as our family name “Kennedy” We have a creative gene within our family, if you do not have it, your children will.

But Dad was a player at one point in his life, he loved the ladies, yes I did. I was never this way inclined before, I couldn’t talk to women before, I missed that chunk of my life when I was mentally ill but I caught up and overtook all those that believe they could talk and dazzle the ladies. And I have loved some stunning women; some hurt me and some I left with the ache. But every one of them I did love. I have my feelings in the right place now and have tried to build bridges.

Now my writings, here we go, my words are all I have; they were all I really had. I write to make sure that when sunlight finally does blush upon your skin, you will not be born into poverty like me and my brothers & sisters were. I want you to know what life is, I don’t want you to be a spoilt brat like some children I see on movies and TV shows. I want you to work for things so you know about self-respect.

Now your Grandma, my mother, is the strongest person I know. She is my evils kryptonite, she backs it away with logic and riddles, the doctors stuck to a script and it didn’t work for me, but she saved my life. She has been through her own wars, which I can see in her eyes. Look after her; we don’t have many people like that on this planet. People are too hectic in nature; no one smells the roses anymore, unless their I-Phone 5 can squirt smells under their noses.

Now please don’t judge me through my writings, it’s my process to keep the voices and urges at bay. But I know I will be proud of you, I will write the most amazing things this world will ever imagine so that you can have the proper upbringing. I will not stop. Yes, I have a dream and there are certain things I would like, but I must work and fight for what I want; you must do the same.

I am not sure exactly sure why I am writing this, but this is just in case there is an accident and I am no longer Earth bound or I have lost it completely and there is no cure for my madness; if that is the case, do not come and visit me, I do not wish for you to see me in that state.

But I will continue to write for you, even if I die, I will send you secret scrolls from Heaven. But I will continue to write, continue to search for a literary agent and work for a life that will benefit you.

I will love you forever.



Filed under 2013, Articles, Author, Blog, Interview, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Love, Mental Health, Misc, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

The Out-of-Order Writer


Thrashing around in agony, I am an injured run-over animal; slumped in this gutter dying. Internally bleeding for eternity, defensiveness is my primitive art. Keep your distance, my disease may spread and you may contract my illness, being broken. My heart is still in this race for life and when I drive down whoever was behind the wheel of the metaphorical car, I am wheeling over their heads.

This is the worst day of my life and I am carrying a smile in my palms to upset the dark clouds people have conjured over me with society’s black magic. Hunched at the side of this road the rain hocks at my indecent aura let this paper protect me while I root evil in the puddles of bloody muddy memories. I am simply a death-dealer, now who wants to share this half kilo bag of evil?

I am being held by the angels,

Does that mean I am in danger?

And now I can’t stay with you.

I’m afraid death is my cure,

Jumped my last stepping stone,

Let myself in through heaven’s door,

Set forth for the light beyond,

Laying here going, going, gone!

Thrown into the darkest of holes,

This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home,

I wonder if my mother even knows.

No matter though,

Under these wheels,

Blood, sweat and bones

I am now part of the roads,

I have lived upon and always known.


You can only see parts of the horrors I have seen, all you can do is visual lies. My darkness moves within me, this is its job as it’s on the nightshift; because as it hits night fall this son will stand. I’m running naked in the rain; the shadowman is coming for me. I can’t sleep, not now, a shield of safety under my bed covers. If I close my eyes now he’ll take over my status in this hell. I will never bend over backwards for this dream, I am spineless that way. These pages are haunting me; they are the only thing besides coffee & sex that keeps me awake at night.

My writing expertise,

Gives me special needs,

The want for more can set me free,

My page is my bedroom walls,

These words can put a spell on me,

Is this blood or red pen on me?

If I ever mislay my mind and lose my place in humanity, I will re-member. One of a kind with two sides of mind, I misplace myself within myself. They say stick to what you know, so I glue myself to pain. My whole life is in complete disarray; do you get it? It’s my Mess-age! I should call my bully, Mud; as everytime I come close to him, he sucks off my shoes.

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Filed under 2013, Articles, Author, Blog, Fiction, Life, Literacy, Literary Agent, Mental Health, Misc, Poems, Random, Writer, Writing, Writing #2

3 Reasons Why I May Have Lost My Mind

Rethink Mental Illness

Rethink Mental Illness (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Would you like to know what made me this way? So would I, still no answers…

  • Action and Reaction

Now this is the main reason people, lose it. I mean the struggle, as for me having no money + no food = A bad diet. Some say I morphed my attitude because of lack of the protein, fibre, gluten and so on. I mean this is a possibility, going almost a week without a full meal within my stomach, living off snack such a biscuits or a packet of noodles or even a sandwich, combine that way of eating when my body needed to grow, brings forth a scrawny-teenager. This is what my mother thinks, but I believe she doesn’t want me to believe that I am actually a mental-head; I think she doesn’t  want me to be a damaged writer. But here’s my theory, I’m still having the urges for evil and the headaches haven’t only set up house, they have little baby headaches running around up there and I have gotten used to the nightmares.

  • Genes

The psychologist told me when I was seventeen that if it wasn’t a brain-tumour which he made believe I had for around a year; how mean can you be? He didn’t think it was anything to do with my eating habits, as I could eat and when I had food I did eat. So he believed because I was amid my teenage years, and this is the main time for schizophrenia to set in and cause havoc within innocence. So this is what the doctor’s thoughts, mentally illness; just what the doctor ordered for my words. And I know now that some people within my ancestry have had to deal with mental illness. Hey, free meds!

  • Changed my own mind

Maybe I just got tired of being beaten, being made a nothing by people who believed I was nothing; having no money, no food and all the friends who helped themselves to my money and food when I did have it because my frame of mind was that fractured at the time, manipulating me and convincing me that I did misplace my welfare money or tell me I didn’t even go food shopping, while they filled their pockets. Can you blame me that I broke? Can you blame me for getting revenge on them all? I have never seen them since. Can you blame me for holding onto this dream? Can you blame me for my darkness? The answer = Nope. I can’t stop it, so lay down your pens, because one day I know I will make it, because this illness is my fuel, it’s what drives every word I use, I can’t stop. And an evil-side of me knows I can twirl words better than ninety percent of you. I do have my exceptions out there.

So still got no clue on what’s up with me, but I know one thing that is up with me? I am a writer.

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Filed under Mental Health, Writing