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Writer's pictureJodee Simpson

I wanted to send this in a letter but HR told me it was a bad idea

Updated: Jan 22

I was so chuffed when I wrote this poem. My first poem that actually rhymes!! Does this mean I'm a real Poet now? 😂
Rhyming has actually allowed me to linger in an intensely uncomfortable emotion while I try out a bunch of words to see which ones create the biggest "whoosh". I cried a lot when I wrote this one. The emotions cut deep and evoked anger about what happened to me. And looking back, I am justified in feeling this way.
I wrote this on sick leave in Autumn 2023. It's a letter to the people who contributed to me feeling this way. I wanted to send it in a letter but thought better of it. Every line is a reference to something that happened and it's a really painful read when you recognise the content. There are some serious allegations but I make no apology for how uncomfortable this feels. Shame is supposed to feel this way.
To be fair, most of what I endured was well-meant but came from a place of ableist ignorance and driven by stigma. But unconscious bias still leads to unintended discrimination.
I am going to use some big words that are really uncomfortable now.
Oppression. This is what happens when you keep labelling PTSD as depression. They are not synonymous. Making assumptions based on stereotypes instead of being curious, listening and not making judgements about how mental health is affecting that person is oppressive and discriminatory.
Depression and suicidal feelings came as a result of marginalisation and asking me to use "strategies" to essentially hide anything that revealed my mental health. This included shame for talking publically about having mental health needs as an autistic person. Only a person who feels stigma that disability and mental health is bad is ashamed of having needs.
I refuse to be shamed any more.


Holes and Bridges


I have fallen into a hole

A hole so deep

I’ve lost sight of the light

lost my spark in the dark

lost my mind from unkind

Words that blurred

As you shouted down

From the bridge unheard

“Use your strategies

They used to work

We don’t want to hear

Your negative words”


You tell me to

Pretend I’ve not

slipped from the edge

Wedged in the mud

And drowning in dredge


Imagine myself at the

Top of the pit

Constructing a bridge

That will make me fit

To the expectation

Of hiding my shame

Of hiding the hole

And taking the blame

For not foreseeing

My fall in the night

Or filling those forms

To render my plight

More bearable

And comfortable for you

As you won’t have to

See me all battered and bruised


I don’t need your judgement

For falling so deep

It’s making me feel that

You want me to keep

Concealing my panic

And hiding my need

The stigma too shameful

To let me succeed


But you stayed at the top

And you shouted me down

When I asked for another

To not let me drown

You asked me to unpick

The cause why I wept

But your anxious avoidance

Left me feeling inept


The reality is

That I’m drowning unseen

And need your help

To gather a team

Who will fashion a rope

To build me a ladder

And offer some hope

Reassurance matters



The sad thing is

That my hole was not big

But you gave me a shovel

And asked me to dig

When you shamed me

For sharing

The things that were hard

Your lack of caring

Created these scars

I needed a friend

To climb down to this mess

And help me coregulate

Out of distress

I needed some comfort

And old-fashioned praise

To let me grow stronger

And help me feel safe.


You left me alone

In the dark on my own

You left me to drown

In the stark unknown

You left me to struggle

In this stench-filled puddle

Till I wanted to die

And relieve all my trouble



See this poem performed live at the Wardrobe Theatre, Bristol, on YouTube.





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