In Which My Nightmares Come Back To Haunt Me and I Cry (A Lot)…

I can’t put into to words the week I’ve had- it’s been kind of hellish. I’ve literally been at school rehearsing and working from 8am – 5:30pm each day this week. On thursday I was there until half nine at night doing my performance evening, urgh. Not only was it mentally and emotionally exhausting trying to pull together an A-level drama performance in under a week it was also one of the most physically painful experiences of my life.

Yes, it looks ‘amazing’ and ‘really effective’ when they wrap me up in elastic, throw me around the studio and then let go, letting the elastic snap back across my body and the momentum propel me halfway across the room before slamming me face first onto the wooden floor… but it fucking hurts!

And that’s not even taking into account the amount of times we practised it and the amount of times that it went wrong and I fell badly. I look like someone’s kicked the shit out of me, I’ve got a ring of bruises all around my ribcage, covering my arse and hips and my poor little knees.

Got my Romeo and Juliet script- at the moment it’s my light at the end of the tunnel, it’s really the only thing dragging me out of this quagmire. Michael finds it hilarious that I have to kiss Romeo four times- and Paris once. Unfortunately for me the guy playing Paris will be fifteen when we do the play… I feel like a massive paedophile right now- although he is about twice as tall as me.

The performance evening also happened to be the time that everything really fell apart for me. During the day my (lovely) head of year called me into her office for a word- she said that CAMHS had been in touch to say that my psych nurse would have to cancel our appointment on friday (yesterday) and that they would reassign me somebody.

For those of you who haven’t read my previous posts I should just explain that I’m supposed to see someone once a week but haven’t seen my psych nurse since the start of February as she keeps cancelling appointments due to illness. I’ve been at the end of my tether about it all.

I tried to say something but had to take a minute to control myself, I felt so stupid but I could feel tears prickling in my eyes, I was stood there blinking like mad and biting down on my lip before I swallowed and managed to choke out that I hadn’t seen anyone since February, at which point she told me I could and should come and have a chat to her whenever I wanted, and she said that she’d make it clear to CAMHS that they needed to get me someone fast. Even yesterday was too late- I’ve needed help desperately for months and now it’s going to be even longer before they can get me someone.

Later that evening I was sat in the make-shift audience watching another group rehearsing and doing a tech run through whilst the rest of my lot had something to eat in the back room. It got to a part in their piece where they all had to scream- and not a short scream, a proper long scream- anyway, they screamed and it just flipped a switch in my head, I went from sitting there calmly to sobbing hysterically. I got up and slipped out of the studio, thankfully we were in blackout at this point so no-one saw me.

I stumbled down the corridor and sat on some stairs out of the way, I couldn’t stop crying- I don’t know what was wrong with me, I was just sat there with my head in my hands sobbing. It had reminded me so sharply of a nightmare that I had a while ago where I screamed whilst the man raped me, it was the first ever one I’ve had where I screamed, and that alone meant so much.

The screaming wasn’t to try and get help, in the dream my psych nurse and social worker were stood calmly watching him, the scream was a protest, it was saying this is wrong, I don’t deserve this. That was such an incredibly powerful thing for me to think, it’s something that I’ve never recognised before. In all the other dreams I’ve just lain down and let it happen. Both times I was molested in real life I turned into a cold statue, I just did everything that they asked me to do- it’s taken me a long time to even start forgiving myself for that, and it’ll take me an even longer time to trust that I won’t just act that way again should I find myself in that place again.

Eventually someone found me- Megan came to sit with me once I’d calmed myself down and we had a chat, she said that she was so surprised to see me upset because I was always happy and cheerful. We just talked casually about crying and shit and it was really nice that she didn’t pry or fuss, she just normalised the situation.

After a while Miss P came walking down the corridor and sat with me, Megan went off to rehearse, I didn’t really know how she’d react to me being so clearly upset- actually, I think ‘distressed’ is probably a more accurate word- but she was lovely. She said something really sweet to me; she said Wren, it’s what makes you such a good actress- the fact that you empathise so deeply with people, you really get how they must feel. Which made me feel a bit better about blubbing on a staircase- she told me that I should talk to people more and that if I couldn’t do that then I should write it down, because I like writing- so you have her to thank for this post.

I went and performed, it went fine (though there was some hasty improvisation at one point) and Miss P and Miss H let me duck out for the other two groups performances (the other one had a naturalistic rape scene in it which I’d made clear to Miss P that I couldn’t watch.) I spent that time wandering about the empty school sitting in classrooms and listening to someone playing piano in the main hall.

Last night me, Jess and Claire went around to Callum’s shiny new house, we felt a bit out of place walking up the posh driveway and had to text him to let him know we were outside as there wasn’t a doorbell.

We generally had a good night except I drank a bit too much coke- yeah, everyone was off their heads on vodka and beer and I went squiffy on coca cola. It’s because I don’t drink fizzy drinks at all apart from the odd glass of coke/pepsi which I’m fine with, it was because I was really thirsty so I drank loads, which was a bit stupid cos I started hallucinating, I heard an alarm wailing for about fifteen minutes which was very annoying. My friends got all panicky once they realised that I’d been drinking coke and seemed very giggly, they started desperately asking if I was okay- I didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was too late. I don’t know why coke does that to me- I think it’s probably the caffeine content.

Spent this morning driving around the lovely Yorkshire countryside taking out cyclists and yelling at the stupid cu-idiots who come hurtling around blind corners in their stupid 4x4s and force me to swerve into the verge to avoid crashing into them.

At the moment things are on the verge of falling apart, I don’t know how I’m going to do this, I’ll be going into town tomorrow or Monday to take my book back to the library, do some window shopping and stock up on razors and first aid equipment in preparation for the exams. It’s not brilliant but I’m trying to be realistic here.

’til next time,

Wren x




4 thoughts on “In Which My Nightmares Come Back To Haunt Me and I Cry (A Lot)…

  1. I guess I joined too late. I didn’t know a lot of what you’ve been through. Sorry about the nurse situation; however, I am glad you said something because sometimes that’s all we have to do to get proper attention. I wish you well in that. I am also glad you are writing about this stuff. It helps other people as well. Especially the advice you’ve received from others regarding your situation. You are now passing on that advice who are/may be going through the same thing. Again, I wish the best for you. Meditation has helped me, I’m not pushing anything on you, but sometimes when it’s hard to get out feelings that are built up, or that I don’t even know are there, I close my eyes, throw on some Eva Cassidy, or other soothing music, and then clear my mind. (It takes some practice.) Recently, something that was bothering me came to light, and I didn’t have even a clue that was bothering me and I started sobbing. It helped a lot. Identifying with our feelings is a good thing. I’m not sure if you’re like me, but I’ve always been taught to stuff it down, even love, and that crying was self pity, but I am now learning it is a wonderful thing to do. 🙂 I wish you well.

  2. *hugs*
    You’re really strong. ^.^
    My parents have fostered since I was really young and young people I’ve known have gone through what you might have gone through and it really inspires me when I see how strong some of them are.
    Hold tight. 🙂

  3. You are amazing and having outlets like acting & writing is such a useful tool! It’s probably not much of a comfort but atleast all of your life experience – even though it must have really sucked most of the time- will help you show incredible talented in the future ❤

    Oh, and thank you for being willing to talk about the real issues. You might not realize it, but your openness allows others to validate their own feelings (hate when I talk in the 3rd person)


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