Sharing from my many shelves of journals. The mostly biographical poetry and writing of an Australian Christian woman living with schizoaffective disorder.
Little by Little
Cas Reeves 2018
I’d like to make music for you, Lord.
If I was a harp how I’d sing,
For you my dear Saviour
Are so much more,
Then even just God,
You’re my King.
I fell through a hole in the ground
To a lost, sad world without words
But slowly I rise to my feet,
You lift me a little,
So gentle and kind.
Somehow, I’m less lost
And not out of my mind.
I write a sentence, a page.
Not much, no manic or rage,
But perhaps what follows
Will be greater than all
The push and the drama
Before my mind’s fall.
Will my words change the world?
I don’t know,
But the fact that I’m here
Goes to show,
That little by little,
Like a retuned fiddle
My words are a song changing me.
With my heart fit to burst
I come with my thirst
And sing, I have a story set free.
“I fell through a hole in the ground to a lost, sad world without words.” This is what mental illness felt like for me, and it took a long journey to find my words again. I feel like I can write again, even on medications. I am so grateful to God for His healing and to my family and friends for their loving support. I look forward to the future and wonder what God might do with my story.
Silently
Cas Reeves 1992
Silently:
I scream
I cry
I am obsessed.
I am possessed,
By what?
Who can tell?
I feel so sad
My heart’s gone bad.
My mind’s a mess,
My life is less.
Nothing’s real
I cannot feel.
Look around my head
Through the window
Of my words.
Faces changing
Faces moving,
Looking in
Looking out,
Weird and warped
Turned and twisted
Horrible and haunted.
Faces glowing,
Features showing,
Secrets hidden,
Nightmares past.
The faces bold
The faces hold
My very soul.
People who see me,
People who know me,
Think that I am happy.
I have learnt to smile
When inside
I am slowly destroyed.
I scream:
Silently.
This has been the hardest poem to include so far. I wrote it at 16. The pain I feel when I look back and realise I was mentally ill all along is so frustrating. What could I have achieved if I had of been diagnosed and treated earlier? Years of trying to be a “good” Christian, seeing my symptoms as my inherent sinfulness, suffering silently, could have been avoided. If you know someone who might be mentally ill help them to seek treatment, don’t just dismissively say you’ll pray for them.
Cheryl Reeves Writing - from my shelves of journals 