Wednesday, 25 January 2023

It’s Aphantastic to put a name on something the very thing that drove 

me to suicide. For the last eighteen 

years, I have been writing black-

hole poetry, my writing has pulled 

me from the ledge, as John Berryman 

called ‘The blind-brow.’ 


All those years spent in default mode, telling doctors, nurses and psychiatric professionals who had no clue about 

the blackness behind my eyes, unable 

to conjure up images from my mind's eye.


Unable to cling to images of my own 

sons, my childhood and my family. 

It was as if I was a blank shell of a man.  

At least now I’ve got a name, a reason 

for my anxiety.


I have been trying to form from 

a formless mind but I knew I knew 

was on to something, there was 

method to my madness. The poems 

were feeding me hope, 

even it was a dark hope. 


I flicked through YouTube as I stay 

away from adverts. I watched a guy 

talking to a professor about how he couldn’t hold the images of his dead mother in his mind and thought he 

was going mad and the professor 

said he had a condition

called Aphantasia.


Wow, just a name lifted my spirit 

and inspired me to create this 

blog of  hope.


adrianpfox8@gmail.com










MARK 2.







MARK 2.



MARK3.



DO IT!




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