Graeme: a poëm

 

My tradition within this blog is for the first post of the year to be a poëm. In ten days time crippledqueeranglo-europeanranter will be twelve years old. Due to health issues (more below if the reader is interested) it is unlikely I shall return to celebrate. But one never knows!

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The poëm is one of three I wrote about my encounters with a queer chap named Graeme. I may post the other two, if I recall to do so.

For those who have not met the term Todeslied, it literally means “Death song” - a link to the Wikipedia item on Lieder can be found within the text.

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Graeme

“When times are good, be happy!” Ecclesiastes 7:14

Graeme

the image of a Gallagher brother

at least in the setting of your eyebrows

and sapphirine orbs;

not the inert eyes of Liam

yours incandesce

with ardour for life.

The poppers, spliffs and copious alcohol

obfuscate your senses:

perhaps

to help drop your defences;

perhaps

to heighten the pleasure

in the moment with self;

perhaps

to dull recollection.

of an affinity past

a long-lost treasure.

I regard you

enjoying the atavistic rhythms

of contemporary primal dance.

I see

melanic hair

highlighted with silver threads.

I see

heavy growth

a need for a shave soon.

I see

one whose manner

whose demeanour

radiates gentleness

composure

affability.

I see

your svelte body arc

in response to the latest tune.

I see

trendy attire

enhancing

a masculine physique,

ink-blue jeans cling

to small, pert buttocks

and referencing puerile youth

the adolescent fabric stretch

across slightly protruding

a-hum… genitalia;

momentarily

I imagine how it would feel

to glide my hands down

over your hips and thighs

and what-have-ya

but almost instantly

push the thought from my consciousness,

erase it from my mind’s-eyes.

I see

your lips caressing

insignificantly devious

teeth

in turn hiding

that lascivious

tongue.

I would like to kiss you

and note the politeness

inherent in my desire

- what would a psychiatrist

make of it all?

A perfunctory, salutary kiss

elicits the opportunity

to taste your sweet flesh

to feel the comforting

heat of your skin

to sense the warmth in

that fleeting labial caress.

I recollect the shared pleasure

listening

to the hopeful lyric

affirming

“You’re not alone”

… naturally

I have the propensity

to love you

passionately.

Were

indeed are

you aware

of the awe

that surrounded your entry

into our company:

you glanced over

you smiled;

you walked over

you smiled;

you passed by

you smiled;

you perched on the corner of our table

you smiled

- not that I memorised the scene

or anything!

“For heaven’s sake,

keep smiling!

I don’t care whether

it’s me

or one of you

he fancies,

just keep smiling!”

Or does the natural beauty

of your friends and companions

blind you

to the effect of your presence?

So at ease with total strangers

you issue an invitation;

contrary to common-sense

impulsively

or instinctually

I accept.

You give me another quick cheek-kiss

My friends and I share

with your friends

Victoria and Chris

a short taxi-ride

to Victoria Park.

You and I bop

drink tea

chat.

“I’m bisexual”

I confide.

“I know”

you reply,

“I have a friend who’s bisexual

he has a girlfriend

but likes the odd bloke on the side”

you continue

- metaphorically?

You determine more about me

than I about you;

a lifetime’s précis

in ten minutes

(although it probably

seemed much longer

- I could write that book

on how to be a complete bore

or should that be boor!);

we talk

and talk more;

quite literally

hours pass.

You announce

to no-one

or someone

specifically

fixing your gaze on me

your requirements:

a good shagging;

a hot, steaming, candle-lit bath;

an aromatic massage;

a bed with freshly-laundered sheets

… well, let me see

I could definitely fulfil three

of your needs.

In the early morning

we step out into the wet new-day,

we slide into a fast car.

The dance-beat continues;

yawning

I cannot hear what you say.

Content

to look at your nape

the back of your head

the left-side of your face

to look into your eyes

in the rear-view mirror

- they reflect nothing back;

emotional vampyrism

- no, too exotic;

probably

fatigue and concentration

or acknowledgement

of the rush to oblivion

self-destruction.

The Todeslied

reminds us

death is an horizon

we cannot view

beyond.

On the parcel-shelf

I espy

your limp, discarded top

askew

an empty skin

somehow erotic;

I touch it

and feel

your moistness;

I dare not inhale

the pheromones

- after all,

it would not be decorous!

I live a whole life

in those final few minutes

loving and losing

as in all Forsterian affinities

hopeful and hopeless.

You remind me

once again

to issue an invitation

to my birthday-party

then give me your number.

I prepare to give you

the obligatory

gay cheek-peck

but somehow

our faces do not quite align

and we meet

cheeks

and lips

in an unhurried hug.

Once again

aware of the falling rain,

I turn to head homewards

for much-needed slumber

then pause to wait

under a dripping arbour-gate.

I hear the reversing car:

it shoots around the bend;

you beep the horn;

the girls wave;

and

in a flash of spray

a blur of vision

you are

gone

…

corporeally absent

spiritually present

or engrammatically

imprinted

in time

in memory

in me.

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The song referenced is “You’re Not Alone” (1997) by Olive.

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My physical health and my mental health have both taken a turn for the worse. I have been working on a letter to my G.P. on and off for over three months. I find it very difficult to concentrate for more than a few minutes. Then I am exhausted for several days. This all relates to inter alia the Myalgic Encephalomyelitis and the lack of social-care. I am trying to hold on to Hope, and mostly succeeding.

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Extremely late, I reälise, but given the current state of global-affairs, I nonetheless bid all my readers a happy, healthy & peaceful new year. 🙏🏻

800,000 Views - WoW

Some time yesterday my blog breached 800,000 views! Thank you to all readers whether one-time or returning. I appreciate each & every one of you. Thanks so much.

https://crippledqueeranglo-europeanranter.blogspot.com/

Suicidal and Ignored… Is it so for all?

More than three weeks ago my new advocate sent the following letter to my G.P. (family-doctor) and a copy to my social-worker. This includes details of my deteriorating suïcidal-ideätion. Neither my advocate nor myself have heard anything. I did however note that my anti-anxiety medication was increased by 50% when my last medications were delivered in blister-packs just over a week ago.

Safeguarding is a legal requirement in England & Wales, but it appears - at most - it is only paid lip-service. Responsibility is given to the police who have been contacted on several occasions since last December. Nothing from them either (bar a visit in the wee-small-hours several months back due to a call from the public). In the past week I went 72 hours without food or drinks, because my housemate forgot about me. I have no social-care as my local authority, Trafford Council, withdrew its services.

I struggle each and every day about continuing to remain. Almost everything causes me to stress &/or panic. I am inexorably withdrawing more and more from life. I am diminishing. I really do not know how long such fortitude can last…

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June & July 2023

Dear Dr. [G.P.],

I have been writing this over the past six to seven weeks. As you no doubt recall, it takes me a long time to type and thinking clearly is often impossible or very difficult.

DREAMS

“I am in a dark, cold, damp, steep-sided valley. My companion and myself are traipsing slowly along its course.

I turn round to see my friend has stopped. He is a couple of hundred metres behind me. Suddenly an inferno, like a pyroclastic-flow, shoots down the valley. I call out to my friend to take cover or aim for higher ground. He turns to glance at the impending doom. He looks back at me and stands his ground. I repeatedly plea for him to move to safety. I watch as he is immolated.

At this point another friend appears in a truck and goes shooting past me along the gravel track. I follow as the vehicle speeds down-valley. I note that the trackway veers sharply, almost perpendicular, from the valley-floor and thus away from the impending hellfire. However, my friend does not take the safe pass. Instead he drives his truck over the cliff-edge at the end of the valley. He is killed in the resulting explosion.

The fiery doom follows, sweeping over the cliff.

Then darkness. And cold that chills to the bone. Drizzle soaks through my clothes. And I am alone in the silence.”

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This is typical of the vivid dreams I experience almost daily. I awaken drained and shaken.

SUICIDAL IDEATION

I am plagued throughout each and every day with thoughts of suïcide &/or of friends’ deaths (both loved ones who have actually died and those who are very much alive) &/or my own dying experience. My suïcidal ideätion has not been this bad since the late 1990s. Indeed, prior to the Trafford Re-ablement Team taking over my care, I have this century rarely thought about suïcide other than for end-of-life/living-will purposes. I did warn that I feared my state-of-mind would pejorate if not dealt with.

SAFEGUARDING

Despite apprising yourself, my G.P., Dr. [redacted], my consultant, the Re-ablement Team, Trafford ASS [Adult Social Services], the CEO of Trafford, the Leader of Trafford Council, and all three [redacted] local councillors about my suïcidal thoughts, none of you took any action. This added to the individual & collective failures to act to ensure I was appropriately fed, watered & medicated, has left me untrusting of those who ought to be safeguarding me. I contacted the police. They also failed to act until an anonymous member of the public contacted them. They visited once. I have heard nothing since.

HOUSEMATE & FOOD

My housemate is unable to remind me to take medications and 2-3 times each month omits to feed me my one meal per day. Indeed, he is now struggling to even prepare & cook meals.

HYDRATION

I rarely get adequate hydration. (The hydration-system has not been used since your visit in May - as I cannot fill it and no-one else recalls to do so - nor from December 2022 to March 2023 incl.)

MEDICATION & AFFINITIES

[Redacted], my advocate, & [redacted] (my friend & ex-boyfriend) have admirably and reliably video-called each weekday & weekend morning respectively. However there was a fortnight’s delay in supplying the prescriptions as the surgery & pharmacy bounced the prescription from one to the other, neither treating the matter with any sense of urgency.

I only take one dose of the phosphate as I should require to be reminded in the evening to take the second dose. Because [housemate] never knows when he is going to be at home, mealtime is any time between 18.00 - 21.30, no-one would know when to call to prompt me to take the med. In any case, I am causing my good friends sufficient trouble without adding further obligations. Furthermore, such would deleteriously affect the dynamic of my affinities.

SYMPTOM IMPROVEMENTS

Benefits of taking the meds include the ending of body-jolts during sleep, a massive reduction in visible body tremors/shaking and a reduction in low-grade fevers & drenching sweats. Now the tremors/shakes only occur when I am excessively tired mentally/emotionally/physically.

MIGRAINES

I did not have a single migraine from 30th May to 27th June inclusive. This is the longest migraine-free period since early 2020. I had five migraines over the period 1st to 7th July, but none since - that’s tempting them! Ha ha  One of those migraines was the third or fourth time I have had to take a second tablet, but then it slowly resolved.

HR & BREATHING

My resting heart-rate has dropped from high [redacted] to typically [redacted] bpm. This is closer to where it was a couple of years ago per the Fitbit records. My heart-rate variability remains unchanged within the range [redacted] ms, with one exception. My breathing-rate has increased from [redacted] to [redacted] breaths-per-minute since medication recommenced.

SLEEP

My sleep pattern is still non-existent, but I am gradually cumulatively slumbering for longer each day (in a directional perspective - day by day is still totally erratic).

SYMPTOM DETERIORATIONS

The muscle-ticks, spasms & pulses have increased frequency and duration. Oddly, cramping has also increased. I have mouth-ulcers most of the time now. I feel really run-down. The M.E./F.M. “poisoning” sensation is more acute. I have constant toothache - in different places in my jaw. Previously my dentist advised this was related to the M.E./F.M. (I remind you that I have not seen a dentist since becoming so badly bedridden and that arrangements need to be made for a home inspection.) There has also been an increase in neuralgia in my cheek/jaw, again not in the same spot each time. Paracetamol has been sufficient to deal with, so I do not consider these attacks are migraine-related. Additionally, this year my hay-fever cum perennial rhinitis has been at its worst since the early [redacted]. Whilst I generally have throat issues during Autumn/Winter, these have continued which means sore throats, swollen & hardened glands, hoarseness and voice-loss. Previously these latter would be “morning” phenomena, but they are now occurring towards the end of the day as well.

CBT

I no longer have a “happy place” to take myself to in a meditative manner. If I ponder on happy events from the past, I quickly recall the negative consequences or subsequent events or how an affinity ended. The CBT techniques I was taught and have implemented since the late nineties, no longer work for me.

PROGNOSIS

My present feels hellish as I am all but trapped the vast majority of the time in my bed-cell and can no longer participate in my hobbies (until the change in regimen in August 2021 I was still regularly doing genealogy, learning Portuguese [my 5th language], creätive-writing, cooking, etc.). I no longer can see a future for myself. My condition has, despite shorter periods of amelioration, been following a constant deteriorating, downwards projection. From Severe ME the route can thus only be Very Severe ME. I cannot imagine anything more horrific! Whatever option to improve my situation that I creäte in my mind’s-eye rapidly degenerates into impracticality and impossibility.

DESPAIR 

Even the little things that used to give me joy such as birdsong, the pattering of rain or children playing, all now jar: the avian chorus pierces my ears due to a worsening of the hyperacusis; the dampness aggravates the arthritides; the children’s screams cause my heart to jolt and panic.

FINAL REMARKS

So, in short, I am no calmer and my mental/emotional/spiritual states are on a downward trajectory. I hope this report of the past six weeks or so is what you are after. I am sending it to you via [advocate]. Let [them] know if you need any other info from myself.

Sincerely,

Colin

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I thank the maker for the support of my advocate and that also of my ex-boyf, without whom I should have given up already. 🙏🏻🌈💕

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