Shelley was a very bright 7-year-old. She lived with her grandmother, because of violence on her mother's part. Mother was an alcoholic.
At school, with friends, in the world at large, Shelley specialised in being perfect. She was a computer whiz, did brilliantly at school, everyone thought highly of her.
The exception was at home with Nan. There, the armour would sometimes crack. She would scream for hours on end until she lost her voice, throw and break things, slam doors, swear at her grandmother...
Access visits to Mum were supervised by one or the other grandmother. Unfortunately, it was rare that her mother was sober, and after every visit, she felt rejected and emotionally battered all over again. She knew that Mother didn't love her, couldn't care less about her.
I wrote this poem for her before our fifth session:
There was a Clydesdale foal called Kay
who -- very sadly -- lost her way.
While other Clydesdales pulled big loads
and proudly followed streets and roads
she lazed about and did no work,
all her duties she had to shirk.
She did NOT like to be this way:
she felt as if she had no say.
See, a man in a passing car
one day gave her a fat Mars Bar.
What you have got to keep in mind:
Mars Bar's a poison to horsy kind.
Give a horse this delicious treat
and she can hardly lift her feet.
Her mind goes fuzzy -- she can't think.
She won't even eat or drink.
Her thoughts will only go so far
as chewing up the next Mars Bar.
Think of poor Kay, caught in this trap:
her life has fallen off the map!
She'll lose her teeth, she'll grow so fat;
can't even be helped by the vet.
She can't do things she'd love to do.
She just won't try anything new.
A tangled mane, and poop that stinks
are a few of the awful things
that Mars Bar eating does to Kay.
I hope she stops. I wish she may
give this bad habit away.
But it is HARD, once you are caught:
it seems to have you by the throat.
Don't be too hard on this young horse,
you know she is sad - oh, of course!
She seems like she loves no-one else
while she is living in her hells.
It is sad that she cannot be
like every other horse you see.
Bob's writing showcase Anxiety and Depression Help Site Mudsmith.net