Dear Pod, a few days I woke suddenly and felt for my phone, quickly typing: there is something so deliciously loving in waking tangled in you, before falling back into a restless slumber; heart pounding, monsters chasing, boys raping. I miss our love. x
Dear Jelly-Boots, thank you for helping me through this really difficult year and never giving up on me. You are (quite literally) a lifesaver - defined as; noun; 1. the act of saving a person's life, 2. an individual who informally gives help to another in time of need - and even though I couldn't see a lot of things with perspective or clarity during this time, your humour and dedication was always noted and much appreciated. It's a shame that you're not really allowed to be my case worker/therapist anymore. I wish I could be treated with more respect. You have to witness my life, I actually have to live it. With love, E. x
Dear Aileen, you are the only person who knows my year 12 score, excluding Zhi Hui and Mags (who were both with me when results came out). The only reason I want to go to Canada is because it reminds me of snow, Fringe and you. Sometimes I find myself purchasing clothing, food or trinkets because they remind me of fellow patients like my South African friend, Maria, Marshmallow or Oliver...
Sometimes I catch myself wishing I could go back down the rabbit hole and into the dark world of agnonising non-existence; the pinwheel of emotions and pain, constantly whirling. Valium not only numbs physical sensations of anxiety - I haven't had daily palpitations for the first time in three years! - but other feelings too. I'm not accustomed to judging situations purely on my own thoughts and cognitions. I'm used to my body acting as a gauge; something which helps to govern my response and feelings towards any given situation. I feel lost without that.
It's scary when you go back to “normal”; Lou doesn't offer to do my hair anymore, people don't preempt my inability to do things and there is so much distance...distance from pain, distance in friendships, distance from you. What if fighting isn't enough? What if I lapse back into it all? God Ails, I'm so fucking scared.
The main lesson I've learnt since discharge is: people are fucking selfish - they put themselves first, always. I feel this is a terrible lesson, it goes against all my morals and beliefs about what makes life worth living. I know you'd understand this, and reason that feeling acutely is worth it. I know you'd understand why I covered my ears as you screamed, yet felt completely numb as Micky explained what her uncles did - you see, just because people don't ask about the pain, doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It hangs in the air, filling silences with an awkward hum. Emotions are complex and so are relationships. I miss ours. x
PS. Truth? “After all, there are only three ways to escape the self - depressive sleep, drugs, and suicide.” —Jesse Bering