moments

Moments: Stumbling Memories

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The nights were quiet. Wild.

I would hold onto my friends arm, eyes unfocused, intoxicated on the latest chemical, stumbling still into the arms of a wall. Slip down and enjoy the sensation of its cold kiss.

I wouldn’t be quite sure where I was going, what I was doing but the serene calamity of it all would wobble my consciousness into a gasping breath. I could stay there forever like that. The pulsing flash and bang of the dingy, dirty club shaking pores loose of sweat. Above me each dripped droplets piercingly onto my flesh, vibrating where it touched. And yet, I was always whisked away. My friends hand would find itself wrapped around my forearm and pull me into the fresh air.

And like that, clarity would appear like the breeze whisping its way around each square centimetre of exposed meat on my body. I would inhale and without knowing it, I could breathe again.

Where was I? Who was I? Who cares?

I didn’t know. I still don’t.

All I would know was that I was thankful for the interruption.

Around a corner we would go. Another line. Another sniff.

I’m leaning, leaning, leaning backwards into myself. Melting on a shoulder. Hands wondering which are not my own. Unfamiliar, clammy, rough and big. I let it happen. And then there’s my friend again – aggressiveness overtakes her. She pulls me away from the melting shoulder and I’m outside again.

We take another line.

See?

Didn’t I tell you?

Didn’t I tell you I was always whisked away?

Didn’t I?

Not anymore. Things change. People do the same. Moments like that evaporate into memories better forgotten. Happiness is futile so why distract it by stumbling in the dark of your own mind? Why absorb yourself in memories too diluted by the pain of the movement?

It’s better to forget it.

So why must I remember?

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Moving out and everything in between

Hi guys, it has been quite a while since I’ve written a blog post which is so odd because I usually have so much to say in general. However, for quite a while I withdrew from everything and everyone and just didn’t feel like writing because I no longer had the energy for it.

I have been through a lot over the past few weeks. Perhaps not a lot relative to other people but a lot for me. I essentially fell out with my brother and because of that, I became suicidal all over again. Thankfully, my mum caught me before I did anything fatal and she gave me the option to take myself out of the situation and housesit for my grandmother for a day or two. It has now been about 5 weeks and I haven’t yet moved back in. And I don’t think I’m going to.

In fact, the only reason I go “home” is to have my daily showers and catch up with my sisters if I see them, but that’s it. I think I’m going to stay there for the entirety of the Summer and then go straight to university and never have to go “home” again.

And I know this all seems rediculous and so outrageously childish but I cannot continue to put myself in a situation that contantly triggers me to feel so suicidal.

I’m not saying that underlying issues have been resolved and me moving out has allieviated the pressure from any of them. However, the situation that puts me the most in danger of doing fatal harm to myself has been temporarily eliminated. And if that is the best I can do for right now, then I’m going to do it.

I’m so incredibly aware of how chunky and distorted this post is but I’m trying to just throw all of my thoughts out there before I chicken out from writing again.

Also, just so you know, I have reached out for support from a psychologist and that should start just before the end of my exams.

Listening to: Cold Arms by Mumford and Sons

Nakedstreetkid out xx

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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

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Thoughts: 25 degrees under, 3 degrees out

So, it’s gotten to this point in the year where I don’t wear anything but a top, knee high socks and knickers to bed. And that’s mostly because when I get under my quilt, it’s way too hot for anything else. So I just deal with the bare minimum so that I don’t overheat and sweat through the layers of skin and cloth that would otherwise surround me. Which I think is fairly reasonable.

However, when I wake up in the morning, the contrast between the warmth under my quilt and cold outside of it is too much. So much so that I just don’t want to get out of bed. Which is silly. But I digress.

The weird thing about this situation is that the fact that it’s cold outside of my quilt can be very much related to the fact that I don’t want to get out of bed. Which, in some ways it is, because the world is honestly a cold place sometimes. The places you go, the people you meet, they’re all cold. Sometimes you will smile and wave at someone in the morning and they just don’t smile back. It makes you wonder if it’s you or something you did. So you put your hand down and tuck your smile away in hopes that your attempt to isolate your actions and words from their mood could somehow ease their sadness. And you think to yourself that maybe you should’ve stayed under your covers today. Because if you’re not giving back to the world in someway, why are you even awake at all?

Which is silly. But it’s what flicks through my head when I get a negative response. The thought just buzzes right through me and as soon as I get past it, I continue with my day, while slowly and uncomfortably realising that my actions can amount to very little. Or very much. Depending on the person and situation.

And I think it’s the change of climate that makes it easier to stay in bed than to walk out of it. Why go outside to the cold, when you can stay underneath and bathe in the warmth for a little while longer?

I wonder why and then not all.

Nakedstreetkid out 😉

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Ring out

Sometimes, I think to myself, “why on earth is this person phoning me?” So, I look away from the screen and turn off the ringer and just let it ring out. Because I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you. Just that I don’t want a conversation with you. Which is similar to ignoring but not quite. Because I don’t mind looking at you if you were to be right in front of me. Which sounds weird but is not. But if you were in front of me, your words wouldn’t reach my ears because I’d be running at the speed of sound. Away from you. Because I wouldn’t mind you to continue to talk, just not in front of me, thank you.