France based writer Danny Metcalfe dropped us a line with a beautiful piece and touch poem on artistic expression called ‘The Sea.’ Thanks to Danny and we would love to see more of your own expression.
In the early hours of Sunday 2 July, 1961, Ernest Hemingway shot himself with a double-barrelled shotgun. To the public Ernest Hemingway was the quintessential tough guy full of masculinity but inside he was in deep despair, tortured with depression. What does this say about depression? Some people would say depression makes you weak. This is not the case. Even men like Ernest Hemingway who are ‘manly men’ can succumb to depression and feelings of suicide.
The arts and mental health go hand in hand so it seems. Lord Byron the Romantic poet suffered from bouts of depression and also his friend and fellow poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. So many artists have suffered with mental health and the battle of trying not to kill ones self.
And it’s not just artists that have suffered from the Black dog but also world leaders such as Winston Churchill.
Depression can hit anyone at any time of any caliber.
Waking up can be a daunting task and being asleep can feel like a much safer place. And it can take a vast amount of courage just to open your eyes and get on with the day. You ask yourself ‘Do I really want to die?’ And the answer is no. I just want the pain to stop. But in some cases like in Hemingway’s case the pain is too much. But what do you do when the pain is too much? The most obvious is to ask for help. But that is not always easy. It can be a very frightening thing to do. And you sink deeper and deeper into the emptiness and it hurts. If you only knew how it felt just to be alive. Please God help me! The world makes no sense. Can you hear me? Can you hear my cries? I am frozen in the darkness and scared of the light. And my soul bleeds.
The smell of Heaven is so sweet and the flowers bloom.
It is that feeling of Heaven and the feeling that the pain will be gone that sends people over the edge and finally committing the act of suicide. It is an escape when people have no more fight left in them.
All people need is that ray of light, that ray of hope to keep them fighting and to endure the storm.
Asking for help is one of the bravest things a person can do.
”Razors pain you,
Rivers are damp,
Acids stain you,
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful,
Gas smells awful.
You might as well live.”
Feeling so low that you want to take your own life, although how debilitating it can be, it is also a lesson of growth. ‘That which does not kill us makes us stronger’. If the Earth did not have rain how could we appreciate the sunshine?
Those who look inside, awake. The darkest hour is before the dawn. Let the tears fly to the unknown.
“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?”
A million years. The sea. How soon?
I don’t know the words or the fame in my body.
The air is tight and the sea will save me. I want to die in paradise.
Wake me up. Is it really so bad?
The waves bring me closer. I breathe in the silence and it makes me weep.
O Lord. O God. The dear dead hanging in mortality and the sandy leaves drop on the third breathe.
I wake with the farewell, my heart still in time and I cannot promise the angels the new born sea and my mind anew.
I drown in these words. I thought away the day and words were no more.
I fell in love with bewildered dreams and the wheels turned in Heavens direction and the soul has less tears.
And I alone in the hours that pass in midnight dreams, the beautiful and the first light.
I fall off shooting stars and the stars like the sea sit silent next to a dancing moon.
How happy the passion and the night. It sings and sings the full sun and I love you in Heaven’s taste.
Cosmic reality and I had visions of eternity and the Dharma was heard.
I sang the long falls and the wonder of the tide.
My soul hangs waiting at the gates in the tall grass in elegance and beauty whimpering in the street.