Simplicity

This weekend... is about simplicity.

We spend the day having a roast lunch in Southport... followed by a lovely amble around a new garden center, with a delicious cake.

Doesn't sound like much... perhaps an average Sunday in the life of my Grandparents.

I spent a little bit of the day wrapped up in the voices and skeletons of my own head.

But then, I shook it off (for once) and sat back to enjoy the ride.

When did you last do that? Take a look out of the car window...

Forever

So much frustration... so many things I want to say... but can't.

All I can try, is poetry.... and all I can produce... is this.

Forever

Forever is how long people claim to love you for
It's how long you live with your past
Forever is 'for' and 'ever' stuck together
Crudely
Like a picture
From Year One.
Forever is a lover's word
A liar's word
A mourner's word.
It starts tomorrow
But no-one knows
When it began
Or when it will end...
... If it will end.
An eternal promise
An eternal curse
A loving bind
A suffocation.
The quagmire of forever.
Forever.
Forever.
Forever.

My name's Nikita...

... and I am 19 years old.

I am here because I think I am fat and ugly and inherently bad.

I try to make myself better by taking sharp objects to my skin.

Sometimes...

... All you can do is be honest.

Still no

Thanks for all the kind comments on the last post... I was a little fearful that it would be ill-received. But my fears were unfounded, thanks.

However... things are still not good.

The self-harm? Worse than in a long time.

The crying? Could fill my bathtub.

I thought I had repaired the relationship with my Mother, now her words seem to scream it is worse than ever. My time to make a decision has come... get close to my family, or run. Again?

A New Person...Again

For the first few weeks, and days, after an episode...

...I am fearful
I am unsure
I am not confident...

I walk along a tightrope every day. I scratch my cuts. I try to rise early. I lose weight.

I emerge... again.

I cannot stand the sound of my own voice.

I use 'I' far too often.

So before I make myself cry, I'll leave you.

Until the next post...

PS I found out that a friend has been reading from afar... thank you to him. x

The Aftermath

Is just as bad as the episode.

Hang tight

Back on the Doorstep

I had a feeling it wouldn't be too long until I ended up on all of your doorsteps... in fact I mentioned it to Charli just the other day on her blog. I try to convince myself that I am strong in solidarity, and capable of taking care of myself.
But the truth? We all need each other, sometimes. Yet no matter how many times I repeat that in my head... a little bit of me still feels not good enough. Not worthy.

In times past I may have just sat here all evening, crying my eyes out... shouting at the dog and hurting myself. Now, I am trying... desperately, to confide in you all. To reach out to you. To try to grab onto something to stop me falling.

Not easy, when your self-worth is practically through the floor.

The poem below is one I wrote as a stubborn 14 year old, I have taken it and tried to mature it. I wrote it about my relationship with my Dad, but have reworked it so that the controlling figure is bipolar disorder.

Only You

I am screaming
You do not flinch
Cannot move
I yell until
I just can't
Anymore.
You do not want to hear
Cannot hear
I need everyone to know
Someone to see
I want a way out.
Surely
I can break away
Now grown up
Matured
I am sure...
Until you walk by.
Trampling me
Crushing my spirit
Cutting my soul
I am silenced
Put away for another day.
Only you allow me to see
To be
To try -
Without you I'm unable to move
Unable to explain
Cannot move
Cannot explain.
I am controlled
Only
By you.
Please
Please
Don't forget me
Because only you
Can set me
Free.

Brush with Beyond

I've been back there
Back to beyond
I got pulled back there
Back beyond.

Readers/observers of my Facebook page will notice that I had a pretty rough weekend... and I don't mean re. alcohol consumption.

The (boring) story behind it is I rang up on Friday to get a repeat script of my anti-psychotics, totally forgetting it was the weekend I planned to collect them on Saturday... long story short I couldn't collect them until Tuesday, so I was reduced to cutting up my last 150mg to make it last. I was not an advert for prescription drug addiction.

I found myself dragged back into a place where it was dark, yet I felt blinded. The place where voices and shadowy figures tried to swamp me, tried to take me away from reality... tried to convince me that all goodness is a lie.

And when I was back on them? My chest was tight, my balance a thing of the past... my vision all but a blurred mess.

Perhaps this post has no point, perhaps I vowed to write about my life... and this is it.

The Interview Game

Thanks to Charli, here are my answers to her Interview Game - check out the rules at the bottom and let me know if you want to play... even if you've played already I'm sure I can sort out a few new questions.

PS I'm not doing it in poems like Charli, having such a rough day. Sorry.

1. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one ability or quality,what would it be?

I would be able to tell the truth, first time and everytime someone asked it of me. I have a tendency to drip-feed the truth to people, or tell them what they want to hear.

2. Would you be willing to murder an innocent person if it would end hunger in the world?

I don't know the answer to this question. On the one hand, famine in any area of the world is a travesty beyond words... but on the other I don't think I could sacrifice one life for another. At the end of the day I believe in a plan - and far be it from my right to intefere with this scheme.

3. What is your most treasured memory?

The day I met the man who was to teach me to be beautiful; in spirit - in soul - and in life. That man is my fiancé.

4. When were you last in a fight? Who won?

William and I fight on a weekly basis, but all that comes out of it are words which cut and linger... nobody ever wins one of those fights. Physical fights... that would be in the 9th year of Secondary School, my friend and I were in the packed cafeteria - only one chair was in sight, and we both wanted it. We pushed and giggled and rolled around on the floor, only to look up and find the chair was gone and nobody at the table had even noticed our absense...

5. How do you react when people sing "Happy Birthday" to you in a restaurant?

The last time someone did that to me was my 18th birthday in an Indian restaurant in Guernsey. My first reaction? I got ridiculously angry through my embarassment... my second? I just ate the ice cream that came with the song and candle :) Nobody has yet admitted culpability for that stunt...

So there you have it... here are the rules.

•Leave me a comment requesting an interview.
•I will e-mail you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
•You then answer the questions on your blog.
•You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who e-mails you wanting to be interviewed.
•Anyone who asks to be interviewed should be sent 5 questions to answer on their blog.
•It would be nice if the questions were individualized for each blogger.

Thank you Charli.

Suicide

It's 5:30am - I haven't slept, and I'm not going to.

A topic never far from my mind, the topic of a conversation I just had with the love of my life - perhaps a topic I touch on too much.

They say that everyone has thought about it, or will think about it in their lives. I've lost dear friends, and the world has lost beautiful souls. I nearly lost myself, a few times.

I think Will's new job is the best thing that could've happened... for the first time in my life I'm vulnerable and frightened and alone - but I know I don't have to be anymore. I'm not stuck in a pit whose only bottom was final.

I don't have a lot to say, I just like to post what I think lately.

I wanted to say that suicide is not painless, and if any one of your are in that mindset - anytime - please come to me. Go to anyone you know, anyone. Please.

For Dana, for everyone

Here we go darl, ten facts about me.

1. If I had the money, I would spend it on creating a perfect home for a family. Because that is my ultimate dream; to have a child, or two, or three... with Will. I would spend all the time I had trying to sculpt something befitting a new life, and try to ensure that it was ready to help us bring a new human soul into the world.

2. If I'm 100% honest I wouldn't change my body. I complain about it everyday and I can't stand to look in the mirror... but nobody can accuse me of not being myself. I've been underweight and I've been overweight - right now I am just called 'healthy', but I'm as happy as I've ever been with myself. That's not to say I won't wear minimising bras, straighten my hair, wear control underwear and use products.

3. I can't stand the darkness, for the exact reason that I fear the unknown... I don't like to not know what is in front of me. I hate the idea that somebody or something could grab me without my consent or my knowing. If I hear a noise when I'm home alone I'm much more likely to hide in my bed, than run out with a knife. What on earth would I do with a knife when confronted with an intruder?!

4. I still don't believe I'm mentally ill. I still think I'm a 15 year old in her bedroom just scratching at herself to get some attention, though at the same time dreading anyone finding out. From my first therapy session I have had the belief stuck in the back of my head that I'm making it all up.

5. When I meet someone new and they ask me what music I like, I just tell them that so long as I can sing along, cry or feel it in my soul... it's my type of music. I miss playing the clarinet and am considering having it sent to me, so I can play again. I have always wanted a saxophone, because when I play that... it's the definition of soul.

6. When I feel down, I want to feel up.

When I feel up, I want to feel down.

Borderline Personality... thy name is Nikita.

7. I've always been a better listener, than a talker. When I was in therapy I used to ask Dr H about his day and his holidays and how he felt, I used to tidy his desk for him. Hence I am now persuing counselling, and my own place in the CHMT - someday.

8. The last story which made me cry was an 11 year old boy from the Wirral, who hung himself with his school tie from his bunkbeds. I have tried 1 million times to make sense of that, but failed everytime.

9. If I were to invite someone 'famous' to dinner... I'd be too nervous my flat wasn't tidy enough and cancel the date.

10. My dream job when I was little was to be a skipper on a maxi yacht for someone famous. Now? I'll sail anything that floats.

Transition Liverpool

The People's Celebration

Tonight in Liverpool at the new Pier Head the whole area came alive with light and sound. The celebration was to mark the 'transition' from Liverpool '08 Capital of Culture to Year of the Environment in '09. It also marked the passing over to the European Capitals of Culture '09, the Austrian city of Linz and Vilnius in Lithuania.

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to go into town, but as William works there now I said I'd go along with him before work because he is obsessed with fireworks, and I wanted to go to dinner in this fab Thai place in Liverpool One.

But we did go in, got the tube and walked down to the front with thousands of other people - I didn't realise how big an event it was going to be... There was a tannoy and over it (apparently) 800 different Scousers were talking about what it means to them to live in and around Merseyside.

After watching the Royal Liver Building being lit up in fantastic colours for a few minutes a really loud heartbeat sounded over the speakers, exactly in tandem with my own. It continued for what felt like forever, before a loud presentation started illustrated on huge screens all along the docks. The presentation was a review of Liverpool's history from 7,000,000,000BC to today.

The soundtrack to the proceedings came to our attention - everthing from The La's to The Beatles... And the fireworks began whilst slides of all the activities from the past year started.

The music and the noise was moving my entire body, the bottoms of my jeans were shaking. The beauty of the fireworks and the pride of the scouse community almost had me crying.

For the first time, I belonged. All around me people hugged and kissed and looked up in awe at the display of human dexterity and kindness around them, we felt proud to be living on Merseyside and we marvelled at the distance the city has come in a few short months. We all sang along to the songs, waved at the cameras and Will and I shared a beautifully tender kiss.

Even now I can still feel that beat in my heart, and my soul... it says that we have changed and yet we're exactly the same.

"All together now
All together now
All together now, In no man's land
Together"

In Hospital

In hospital, it smells just like they say it will
and I don't like it.
There are faces
and looks
and glares,
They don't like me.
To them
I am a waste
a selfish
waste.
Or so it feels.
Each scar upon my arm
is like a beacon
for snide comments
for embarrassment.
The IV in my arm
seems undeserved.
The air I share with 'other' patients
seems undeserved.

In hospital, I am another gown
which doesn't quite fit,
I am a little plastic cup
with little plastic pills
in little pastel colours.
It fills me with pain
but numb pain,
it patches me up
then pushes me aside.
Whilst I am there I should be all better
but really I'm all worse.

Everyday I remember being 'In Hospital'
The corridors haunt my soul
The charcoal reeks in my memory.
I cry inside
because they kept me alive.
I cry
because I wanted to go.
I cry
because I'm glad I stayed.

I just wrote that, because I can't get it out of my mind.

Domestic Goddess

You know, I think Will's new night job might just be a positive thing for me - rather than a negative one as I feared.

Last night when he woke I cooked us both a meal - not usually in my itinerary. Then later when he'd gone to work again I fixed myself a snack, looked after the dog and tidied the kitchen and his (pig-sty) of a wardrobe. This morning I mopped all the floors, did the washing up and fed the pets... do you see a pattern emerging?

I'm up earlier than I ever was before, because I've got things to do I suppose. I hate to admit it but this is perking up my confidence substantially!

It set me to thinking. I've always, always been told that I don't put a great enough value on myself or my acheivements... to me, ever since my GCSE's I've been in decline. C's at A Level, dropped out of Uni, can't cook... anything I see as a tiny flaw I will attack myself over and over for. I don't think I do anything right, or as good as someone else - in my eyes everyone is better than me, and it's always been like that. Some people find it adorable, but most find it irritating and frustrating.

But these few days I seem to be building it up again... perhaps I can dry the washing, perhaps I can cook a few things.

Perhaps I'm not useless.

That's terrifying to me - my entire life is based around the premise that I am, ultimately, not good enough.

So at the same time at being thrilled of my new acheivements, I'm also slightly scared and cold at the thought of my long standing self-deprication disappearing.

But right now... I have to run to the chemist ;)

bisous

Nope

Stay with me on this one, please.

Today I enrolled at SkelmersdaleOrmskirk College, as a part-time student. I'm just going to be doing a counselling level two course... I hope it will earn me favour with the Uni people. I also hope it will make me a little more of a person again. I felt that since I had to leave Uni in April 08 I was useless, uneducated and my confidence was literally in tatters.
In April it seems I fell apart, and ever since then it's got worse of course - but more often it's got better. I don't have nearly the same level of professional support I had in Guernsey, but somehow Will and I have muddled along.
Whilst I signed up today and had my picture taken for my ID the smile was genuine. I was thrilled - made up to have been accepted. Until then I'd convinced myself that enrollment would be impossible.

Even now, it doesn't seem real. It might be a tiny baby step but it's mine, back into education and back into life.

On the other hand Will started his new job tonight, working 10:45pm-7:00am. So I'm all alone for five nights a week. Am I scared?

Petrified, is the word.

I'm not brilliant alone for a long time, let alone at night. But I'm trying... I took the dog for a walk, went to the shop and now I'm eating apple turnovers watching tv, until bed.

I'd be lying if I said I'm sorted for the night, but I hope I'll be alright. What makes it worse though is that I have my psych app first thing in the morning and Will won't make it back, even if he did he'd be too tired to come anyway.

The appointment I'm dreading... the psych seems to think herself drastically 'better' than me since she is mentally healthy and earning god-knows-what a year. Maybe I'm wrong, I'm sure she'll be fine.

Sorry for the diary-like approach to this, just needed a chat really.

Surprising Uplift

I never thought I'd say it, but I'm doing okay.

No New Year's resolutions, no miracles... just taking the pills everyday, bypassing the razorblades and blocking out the voices.

For once, I have no words... nothing to say. Doesn't bode well for a blog does it? If truth be told I don't quite know how I feel, or what's happening to me.

I know it's not all perfect and problem-free, but just now I can't even focus on that. I've tied myself up in knots now and I can't remember what I was going to say!

I'll leave it here, but as William starts his new night job on Wednesday I'll be writing a lot more, I expect.

Welcome to the rest of your life

Happy New Year everyone, I hope that it is happy and full of health and that the hurts of 2008 can begin to heal.

It was a quiet one this year, just us in bed watching tv and sharing a kiss as the bells chimed and a new year rolled in, full of promise and fingers crossed that this year will be better.

I've never been sure whether I like the New Year celebrations or the philosophising it somehow throws everyone into. Each year we remark on what went wrong and vow to not let it happen again - but we know a great deal of it will. This year I will still have bipolar, living will still be expensive for people everywhere and suffering will not be abolished.

Yet somehow, somewhere in my brain I am full of hope. I am praying to a God I don't know whether I believe in. I am smiling for an invisible camera. And just for a minute or two I really think we can make this work, 2009...

...Good Luck


"Everybodys out on the run tonight but theres no place left to hide

Together wendy we'll live with the sadness

I'll love you with all the madness in my soul

Someday girl I dont know when we're gonna get to that place

Where we really want to go and we'll walk in the sun

But till then tramps like us baby we were born to run" - Bruce Springsteen