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The Purple Was Already There

£5.00

SKU ebook Category

175 in stock

Description

By Anna Louise

ISBN: 978-1-84991-882-4
Published: 2013
Pages: 34
Key Themes: Mental Health, Poetry, Mental Illness, Schizophrenia

Description

“The Purple was already there” is the story of Anna’s life after becoming ill as a teenager and her journey through the mental health system. It is a collection of poems, originally written from her twenties onwards, within the psychiatric maze, woven into a tale of unrequited love, obsession and a kind of bleakness that ensues from mental illness. It also concerns her experience of how institutions came to “own” her and the effects of being socially bullied and scorned.

About the Author

Anna was born in 1971 in Newcastle. She became mentally ill at fifteen and was diagnosed with schizophrenia at sixteen. At that time, the psychiatrist had told her she would never recover. She has had reoccurring visits to hospital and has experienced madness in the community.

Anna joined the “Devon River Poets” at twenty-two and performed poetry with “The Female Fighter Pilots from Venus”. She has already been published under the umbrella of the “Devon River Poets” in two anthologies: “A Marvellous Collection of Birds” (1994) and “Precise Angles of Light” (1998), introduced by Selima Hill. (Both published by White Box).

Anna has facilitated creative writing groups for other mentally ill people. She has also been involved in her local recovery movement for many years including campaigning with MIND, a local Respect Campaign, and many other events encouraging positive change, acceptance of mentally ill people and promotion of systems and methods that enhance recovery and well-being.

Her dream is to be published and have her voice heard and accepted within the community. Writing plays an important role in the goodness of the grief of falling and saved her from self-destruction.

Book Extract

Sinking motions

Sweet nothings are not a truth I will share,
All pretences of friendship are sliding away
There’s no dignity in begging for care
I’m totally lost in the war games we play
My internal battles take the front line
I’m moulding myself out of clay and mud
So then you can smash me and build my shrine
I sleep your body I drink your warm blood
I’ll walk in the sun and show you I’m right
About poisons that whip and ask for my hope
I’ve poison in my hand turn out the light
For sperm, spit and craziness, a simple dope
That drugs the night but plays havoc inside
We’ll swim the waves and float out with the tide


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