“No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world.” The meaning of this quotation from Dead Poets Society did not really hit me the first couple of times I heard them.
It took time, a little accumulation of wisdom and Robin Williams’s tragic suicide for the message to hit home. Among the hype of tributes, dedications and post-career analysis after his death, I’d discovered that Williams had something of a personal connection to the ideology of his brilliantly-executed character, John Keating, in the Oscar-winning movie.
Since at the time of his death I was experiencing my own little poetic bloom, and depression remained as common a sight for me as the chewed-up cap of my blue Bic pen, I began to wonder about having to someday straddle one ball of fire with another as Williams may have done. I asked myself whether the conflict between my imagination and my hidden mental issues would eventually culminate in a final battle between the Almighty Two; where only one could prevail.
With those thoughts, a fear flowed along every sinew – of my harrowing darkness having the potential to undermine even the most sublime of my words and ideas and subvert the world into an object of hell. Yet, little did I know at the time, that less than a year on I’d be confronting the potential of any fatal conflicts, by using that gift which has continued to bloom, and the emotions that once stood by my side unfalteringly.
The first step was combining the Almighty Two. I wanted a glimpse of what they could do to each other. Sure enough the depression had the zest to tarnish a few sheets of paper with what I saw as unworthy writing, ending up at the opposite side of the room in clusters. But after some time of trying, I’d ended up with a piece that would eventually go on to be used in a more general way to help others going through dark times who perhaps may not otherwise be able to fully express how they’re feeling in times of despair. It has also become a promotional piece for Pieta House’s national event, Darkness Into Light, which creates an atmosphere of acceptance and support in a time of darkness and need.
The poem focuses on metaphorical representations of what depression has done to me. It carries across the images of “pitchfork branches”, and indeed the ones which have been the arrows leading me down some dark paths in the past, where regretful actions were rife. It also speaks about the “broad letters” which are subversions of all the positivity you fail to see in times of desperation. Ultimately, it’s a poem about speaking, breaking the silence of your mental issues and letting the bad seep out onto the bed of thorns that you’re finally light enough to rise from.
Personally, one of the main benefits of writing Pitchfork Branches was reaching the realisation that it guided me to: although depression may sometimes have the ability to undermine the power of our imaginations and the impact that they and we ourselves bring to the world, combining both can result in an art form that helps us express and share the harrowing emotions that could otherwise drag us down to the extent of full devaluation – not just of what our minds can bring to the world – of our worth as sons, daughters, brothers and sisters. Combining the Almighty Two was almost a process of elimination, and I think it’s clear which one of the pair has prospered.
The near-elimination of my depression comes with having shared my story through poetry. It has given me the courage to speak out to loved ones about how I’ve felt in the past and how depression is something that – to an extent – may always have a slight role to play in my being, though to a much more controllable degree now.
The poem has also helped by attracting people to me with their own stories, hence making me realise that I’m not the only one. Helping others in some way by writing the poem – and hopefully to a further degree when my promotional video is released for this year’s Darkness Into Light Event – is very heartening.
Since its debut in Phoenix Park in 2009, Darkness Into Light has grown beyond all expectations, from having 400 participants locally to nearly 80,000 nationally in 2014. It is the flagship fundraising event for Pieta House, the centre for the prevention of suicide and self-harm, and this year the organisation hopes that up to 100,000 people will rise early and greet the dawn across 80 venues across three continents and six countries.
Darkness Into Light, sponsored by Electric Ireland, takes place on Saturday, May 9th, at 4.15am and for those who haven’t experienced it, I’d encourage you to do so as it’s a unique experience, a morning to remember and a few hours that stays with you long after the blaze of yellow T-shirts has passed through your local city, town or village. While hope transcends the whole event, this year’s theme, like my poem, is connection – and echoes the fact that nobody should walk alone! (You can subscribe to the event by visiting dil.pieta.ie)
I’m very honoured to say that two very familiar and inspirational men are involved with the promotional video.
The fact that the former Cork hurler Conor Cusack came to me after hearing my poem, with a very appreciated pat on the back, made his authenticity very clear and his input into the project a desire. From the outset, he struck me as nothing but genuine, intelligent and a gift from above when it came to destigmatising a lot of the bad that comes with mental health and what being a man is commonly seen to be in our society.
The poem was one thing to help me get my message across about depression, but getting Conor to participate in my l video for Darkness Into Light, has brought me one step closer to help changing the way we deal with our emotions in Ireland today.
Similarly, having The Voice of Ireland presenter Eoghan McDermott on board has exceeded my expectations. Although my life revolves predominantly around books instead of television, I’d been familiar with his work and gained ample respect for Eoghan after seeing an interview he did for The Saturday Night Show.
He’d explained that originally he hopped on board with the promotion of Pieta House because he was “a face from the telly” and thought it wise to use his popularity in a way that would help such a worthy cause. He’d then had the bravery to admit to previous experiences of self-harming, and his involvement with Pieta House has since struck me as beyond powerful.
The promotional video consists of myself playing the character of my past – a teenage male who, although commonly surrounded by crowds on sultry summer days, felt alone, worthless and full of despair.
Pitchfork Branches plays over me as I walk through some iconic places in Dublin – but it’s not until the two men appear that I see the light, and a conclusion is reached in the video.
I was very impressed by the originality that both Conor and Eoghan brought to the poem. Where Conor’s Cork accent carries inspiration and comfort, Eoghan’s carries across those familiar optimistic tones that we all love listening to.
I can’t wait for the promotional video to do the rounds in the days leading up to the Darkness Into Light event, and I hope it acts to encourage more subscriptions to it.
Whatever happens, this is nothing short of a spiritual journey for me. I’m doing this for myself, for Pieta House, for those struggling, and for John Keating, who remains as a whisper at the back of my mind.
Ryan Mangan is part of a team of teenage poets from Ireland taking part in the HBO-televised slam competition Brave New Voices in Atlanta, Georgia, in July.
