Guest post by Lucy Haydon
The silence in manic psychosis is deadly and deafening. It connects dots of imagination and untruths in the loudest of ways whilst not saying anything out loud.
This silence is the scariest I have ever experienced. This silence should not be allowed to exist. This silence needs kind company, trust, time, love, and often even medication to overcome and navigate through and out of.
This silence is not fun. I would not wish it on my worst enemy.
As a complete contrast, another type of silence I have been lucky enough to experience is the one where you are sat under a beautiful tree, back against the bark, alone in body but oh-so connected to something so much greater than just yourself.
In this quietness, you can hear the birds of hope, feel the warmth of the sun, the bliss of the breeze and you know all will be more than ok.
I write about these two types of silence to give you an idea of just some of the many experiences someone may have when thinking of the concept of ‘silence’.
A group of six people with lived experience recently met up with three facilitators from the University of Bristol in a workshop to share time together and discuss ideas and experiences of silence.
It was a very intriguing and interesting topic, bringing up themes of connection and isolation amongst others.
Silence is more than a word and much more than just something to be ignored, with a spectrum of emotions and experiences counted. It needs to be explored in greater depth, and, hopefully, that’s what this project will do.
Author bio
Lucy Haydon is a Bristol-based artist.