Saying Goodbye to Safety


Mmmm, flowers... and rubbish

I’m about to go downstairs and bake some scones, my mum and brother have gone out to do some jobs and I’ve offered to bake in return for a little cash (I bake anyway, it’s just that I’m saving up for a new drum- but more on that later.) So I was looking up some writing prompts to see if there was anything that would inspire me to write more than the usual random drivel that I seem to be spouting here. Anyway, I searched around a little and found one that said: “What are you saying goodbye to?”

I’m saying goodbye to the old me, to the old way of doing things and the person that I used to be- I’m still that person, I know I am, it’s just harder than before. I have to try harder with things that used to come easily to me. It’s been 21 days since I tried to kill myself, that’s not an easy thing to turn around and think. It feels in an odd way like I don’t want time to move on, I always want to be in that stupefied valley of recovery, taking small steps and being treated gently. I think that’s because I find it nice, I find it relaxing and soothing when people treat me like I’m breakable- and knowing that you’re going to die, that you’re waiting to kill yourself is one of the most liberating things I’ve ever felt. I remember being very tearful on the monday when I was getting ready to kill myself, I was constantly tearing up when I saw people who I thought I would never see again, but I kept my head held high and I tried really hard to keep myself together.

In my head I was going to die, and I felt the best that I had felt in a long time.

I am saying goodbye to the Wren who could cope, who always felt hopeful and cheerful no matter what life threw at her, I am saying goodbye to Wren who knew her boundaries and was honest. I am saying goodbye to my trust in myself. I don’t want being ill to define me, but it’s a huge part of my life. I’ve tried to separate it into another identity, another person who can be shut away and ignored when needed to, that way I felt more honest, I didn’t feel like I was lying to people so much.

Now I have to accept that this illness- whatever it is- is a part of me, and I can’t shut it away. I don’t like being a horrible bitch and lying to everyone. But it’s for their own good. Sometimes I get all stupid and nostalgic and wish for the summer days sat in my grandparents garden with the greenhouse filled with tomato plants and the warm summer air carrying the smell of the lilac bush- but I’m not stupid. My grandparents are long dead and the house has been sold to someone else, the greenhouse demolished and the lilac bush torn up.

My name is Wren, and I’m saying goodbye to my child-self, to safety and comfort.

Listening to: Pagan Polska by Omnia. Catchy tune, good to get up and have a dance to, reminds me of the music at my cousin’s wedding. (It was in Poland.)


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