Cheer Up

My thoughts upon hearing someone tell me to “Cheer up”

1) Fuck off.

2) If I had a pound for every time I’ve heard that, I could afford that one therapy session that finally works.

3) Why do you say this stupid phrase? It’s as messed up and idiotic as telling someone to walk off a broken ankle.

4) If you want to question my thoughts and feelings, like you know my whole story, then don’t bother. Not everything can be solved with the phrase CHEER UP.

5) You cannot pray me out of this neurochemical state of depression and anxiety with some magical words. If it were scientifically possible, don’t you think I’d have tried that?

6) CHEER UP. Sorry, what’s that? I just need to get out more and party? How? By holding aloft my magic bottle and chanting the magical words CHEER UP I’m suddenly transformed into PARTY MAN? A happy, more confident, less anxious version of me?

7) How many men, women and sadly children must attempt to or sadly take their own lives before we realise that a cocktail of chemicals and that great verbal anti-depressant CHEER UP doesn’t work. We need real conversations not medications.

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About Bob W Christian

I’m Bob Christian; a husband, father, grandfather and cat dad. I’m a dyslexic poet. I am on the Autism Spectrum and I started writing poetry, or scribbles as I’ve always referred to them, to help me to process my thoughts and emotions. It’s also helped with my PTSD. It’s gone from there and after over 20 years is still going strong, I’m now finally dabbling in to photography as I’ve been told I have a good eye.

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