Victor Gatenby

An Unseen Enemy Within

My name is Victor John Gatenby, born in 1958 and native of North Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom. I am a researcher of genealogy and started to write poetry in 2002, after retiring from public service. Having a creative and compassionate mind, for helping people, that is in my scope to do, I fin…






Never in a million years,
would I have thought,
that I would have been smitten.
Reduced from a man,
that once, had the will-power and strength
of Goliath,
to that, as weak as a kitten.


Vulnerable to emotional pain.
Life is not what it used to be
and sometimes is too much,
by irregularities and strain.


Brought about by a very bad
experience,
involving death and loss,
I now suffer from day to
day.
A debilitating illness,
that, has its own way.


Each and every day,
I am fighting this.
Exhausted from mental
torture,
a battle in my head and
even though I try to sleep
and shut it out,
the battle continues in bed.


My personality has changed
and through that,
I have lost a great deal,
part of my life, to include
a wife.
I am aware, although a blur,
that I have attempted to take
my own life by various means
and on the one occasion,
I succeeded to die,
I was resuscitated,
waking up in hospital,
with IV lines and heart machine,
attached.
The medics were not allowing me
To go from this world of mine or
to pass away,
despite being successful,
in my try.


Suicidal ideation, co-morbid thoughts,
depression, dysthymia, borderline
personality disorder,
to list but a few,
is what I am labelled with,
stuck with for life and all
because of an incident,
that was so horrendous,
in causing my pain and strife.


Of course, I am not alone with
this syndrome.
There are countless others,
suffering in the same way,
for which I feel for and they are
not far from my home.


No amount of drugs, psychology
or psycho-education,
can ever rid this or erase the memories
from the brain.
What support and help there is,
can only dampen down the emotions,
a balancing act to keeping sane.


The flashbacks keep coming.
The tears keep rolling down
my cheeks,
sometimes for days,
sometimes for weeks.


The diagnosis, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
(PTSD).
I am in the firm grip of this and not to under-
estimate.
The power it has within the brain of oneself,
Is complex and a complicated
State.


The prognosis, is anyone's guess.
There are those that do not understand
or do not know,
the magnitude of suffering.
Only those that suffer this illness, know
that they are dealing with an unseen enemy
within !!

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