A state of Dissociation

I think that it’s lovely, not to be dissociating on a constant basis. I think I’ve been in quite a numb state of dissociation for a while now. Maybe for a month now.

Maybe two.

I’m not sure but it wasn’t constant. It was in and out. I would never quite get enough “okay days” as to feel the clarity I do now. It’s quite lovely. It makes me remember what I am missing.

Maybe I can stay this way. At least through and past the beginning of the New Year. I like being able to feel something and I like being able to feel past a few passions that would seep past my mood every few days.

It’s just nice to be present in the here and now again.
I hope it lasts.

Nakedstreetkid out x


My Future

It is six in the morning. I have only had two, maybe three hours sleep. No matter, I wanted to say this somewhere, to someone.

I don’t think I’m going to university next year. Even though I desperately want to, I need to take my time with this because I am just not ready. I am so emotionally unstable, my depression and my anxiety is just overtaking my life right now. Especially if I want to go into the healthcare profession, I need to prioritise my own wellbeing. And right now, I am not ready.

I go through significant and life threatening bouts of suicidal ideation, my depression has isolated me so completely from myself and the world, my forearm is scarred to the high heavens and my body is suffering from my compulsions to pull out my hair. My life is not looking good right now.

But I don’t think I should be ashamed about that. The mere fact that I have finally allowed myself to recognise it shows that I’m finally trying to face it. I’m finally trying to face it. I really am. And that makes me kind of happy.

So, for now, I shall focus on retaking my A-level exams and worry about everything else later. I mean, I’ll give a brief thought to the future, but really, I know that will stifle my motivation.

Maybe I can finally go to sleep, so I’ll talk to you guys later.

Nakedstreetkid out xx


Exiting the whirlwind of emotional constipation

Because I’ve only just started exam season and my brain has already entered a deep, dark whirlwind of endless torment, I feel it is befitting that I start to plan and see my future.

By future, I mean summer and such. I’m far too emotionally constipated to begin to think further than that (like, oh, university matters and such). So, let’s go.

What do I wish to do during Summer?

GET A JOB.  I want a job, I want experience, I need money. I guess this, in a way, is thinking about my future further than just Summer. It’s thinking about the perplexity of supporting myself during University as well. But only superficially. I also need it for the socialising. I’m not sure yet, how frequently I’ll be able to see my friends, one of them is already leaving the country during Summer. For work, in fact, in the Alps! Can you believe that? Isn’t that just so cool?

Anyway, secondly, I WANT TO GO TO PARTIES. And in order to go to parties, I need to be invited to parties. And in order to be invited to parties, I need to have friends which are going to parties. Which hopefully isn’t impossible. I really do hope after all the “no, no, no’s” I’ve been giving everyone during exam season, they’d still invite me, you know? Well, we’ll see when the time comes. Anyway, the reason why I want to go to parties is because I need to be experienced about the do’s and don’t’s of party life. I’m not a frequenter at parties, so I don’t really know the rules and such. Hopefully, the Summer will reverse that, so that when I go to them, I’ll be well versed enough that I can go to them during Uni.

Thirdly! I don’t really have a thirdly. I just feel like everything good in life comes in threes. I guess the thirdly can be all the little, necessary, unthinkable things that I must think about during the Summer. For example:

  • Buying everything I need for uni
  • Going to results day to actually make sure I go to uni
  • Obviously spend time with my best friend
  • Maybe a bit of travelling
  • Seeing the friends I care about
  • Obviously catch up on all the TV shows I have missed over the last few months
  • And not so very obviously, go to the GP to start looking after my mental health

That type of jumbled up, crazy going, casual riding mess can only be dealt with at the time. And may change, depending on numerous factors.

Anyway, let us hope that everything goes well and I exit this hopeless, dark and scary whirlwind of doom and come out the other end unscratched. Kind of like a piece of corn, coming out from your buttocks.



Nakedstreetkid out ;P



Nostalgic in London

It never once occurred to me that I could even miss London. I’ve always thought of London as this place that I reside in – that I exist in. Where extreme poverty and extreme wealth live side by side. Nothing ever seemed fair in London because facts were constantly hidden from outsiders. And I’ve always been disgruntled – unforgiving – of that point. So, I thought, why not make a living somewhere else? Why not make my mark somewhere else?

And the best place for that was at university.

So, I’ve applied for universities outside of London simply because I hated this constant pretence that is painted all over the place in London. The government does a very good job of doing this by highlighting the diversity of culture, religion and ethnicity. When in actual fact, there are isolated pockets of religions (and in turn ethnicities) scattered across London.

A classic allotment of Ghettos make up the majority of the city. In Stamford Hill you have a majority of Jewish population, in Bow you have people of African descent and in Tower Hamlet you have people of Bangladeshi origins. That’s not to say that there aren’t other religions or races living there, just that there isn’t this picture of complete equality that the government attempts to present to the public. And they do this again and again by marginalising the inequalities that exist in London.

And it’s frustrating and annoying. And I really wanted to leave. But now, not so much.

Because even though there are ghettos that exist, we as the young don’t really stay in them. The rich mix with the poor, Bangladeshi with the African, Christian with the Muslim. The divisions constructed by the old are easily knocked down by the young as the youth are able to take steps out of their comfort zones.

We make our own culture, recognise our own differences bur draw closer together as a unit because we know our similarities are stronger. There is something incredibly temporary about growing up this way. How much longer can we stand together before our parents continue to crack away at our unity by enlarging our differences?

But still, I am going to miss London. I’m going to miss it so much because I’ll miss the youthful culture that the young have manifested from our truths.

I’m sorry, this probably all makes no sense. So, I am sorry. I just wanted to write. I should probably wait a bit, look over all the mistakes I have surely made from writing this in one go. But I really must start getting ready for a workshop I have today. So, mistakes and all.

This shall be posted.

Nakedstreetkid out! 🙂


The future

I feel as if I’ve been conditioned to go to university.

Ever since I’ve been a child, I’ve fantasised about these magnificently huge and flourishing buildings standing amongst historically proud trees, where just at a tiny fraction of these trees legs parents would be standing with the same pride and wave their child off. But, of course this “child” wasn’t a child anymore. Oh, no, no, no. This “child” had just entered the age group we like to call adults. Yes, these children were now adults. Big and bold, they no longer had to hold in their dreams in fear of the frightening rein of their parents. They were free. Childhood forgotten, they would step flamboyantly past the threshold and into their dorm rooms where they could sparkle their personality and style onto the sparsely furnished box. And a day in a lecture or tutorial room would be like no other. They were happy. They were free. They were adults. I wanted to be them.

But now, I’m not so sure.

Recently, my sister told me that “unless you don’t get into Oxford or Cambridge there’s no point in leaving London for a university”. Admittedly, I almost cried at the truth in her words. I live in London and for me university represented freedom from this urbanised city. That’s why they always said you “leave for university”, never stay. However, since the rise in tuition fees, the prospect of university has seemed to force distance between me and my dreams.

My sister was and is right. I have a few decent universities which at the most are an hour and a half away. I could just get a yearly travel card and live with my mum for the 4 or 3 years at university. Yeah, it would suck but my mum doesn’t have that 9000 or so pounds needed to get me into university, let alone the money needed to support me while in accommodation rooms. She can barely pay the weekly bills. I don’t ever want to be such a burden to my mum when all she’s ever done is support me. It’s unfair.

See, I’ve always dreamed of supporting my mum financially because, somehow, despite our poverty she never made it feel as if we were never poor. Having five children must have been hard but she tried her best to provide for every single one of us. Where she lacked financially, she was able to make up emotionally. She didn’t need those £20 DVD’s or videos, all she needed was the things we already had at home, like chairs and bedsheets, and she would be able to make a fortress where we would play in the morning. Through the afternoon she would let us play in the park for hours and give us 10p each for ice lollies. By the time we’d get back we would play a game of cards or read a book she had gotten from the charity shop that afternoon. My point is, she had successes and she had some failures, like all of us do, but she never let that get in the way of raising me and my siblings.

I feel like you should know that my sister which made me think about this was my little sister. My 12 year old sister actually ended up talking through it with me, and for the first time, I understand that side of the argument, the side I never dared to look at.

I guess I’ve gone off on a tangent but my point is that I’m scared of the future just as much as I’m scared of the past. I don’t want to be but I am. I feel as if I’m one amongst 7 billion others. I feel as if I’m lost in a crowded world. I feel as if, if I don’t make it in two years I’ll never make it.

“Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.”

Let’s just hope I don’t let doubt or fear rule my life, shall we?

Nakedstreetkid out! 🙂