Claire, the fire engine.

I remember being a child, maybe 4 or 5? In the middle of ‘careers day’ at school, learning about careers and life paths in a way our little, naive ways. I remember the teacher asking us

“What do you want to be when you grown up?”

…a popstar

..a footballer

… a Mum

.. a dancer

Me? I wanted to be a fire engine. I did not get this confused with the heroic firefighters. I wanted to be the truck itself.

I remember proudly announcing to my class only to be interrupted with the roaring laughter of my school friends and my teacher. My teacher. A grown adult laughing in the face of a innocent child. I remember the feeling of my tears pricking at my eyes whilst my face glowed with shame. That was the first time in my life I felt different. I felt stupid.

I remember coming home that night and running into my safety shelter which was my Mother’s arms. Sobbing into her arms I told of my embarrassment and that I had said something wrong. She did nothing but hold me.

The next morning, I woke up to my Mother knocking on my bedroom door softly. When she entered my room she presented a cardboard box, brightly painted red. Pipe cleanings painted silver were twisted with precision to form a ladder resting on top of the box. She placed it over my head and helped my pull my arms through the holes she’d cut out of the sides. She sat down and looked at me in the eyes, sensing the confusion in my mind she spoke..

“My darling. You can be whatever you want to be. People are afraid of the things that don’t fit in their “normal” but that’s okay too. You’ll be a fire engine because to me, you already are”

She doesn’t realise how much that conversation changed my life.

Please don’t ever allow our children to feel like I did. We can do and do anything we wish.

I’m 28 and I’m a mother fucking fire engine.

What do you wanna be when you grow up?

Agoraphobia vs Summer

I hate summer.

Summer for someone with agoraphobia is the same feeling you had as a child when you were grounded but all your friends were outside playing and having fun. Yet all you can do is watch from the windows.

I feel like I miss everything. This is my fourth summer locked in my own prison. Today I got to sit in my conservatory with both patio doors wide open so I could get some fresh air, whilst I watched my fiance and our dog play in the garden. I can hear my neighbours children playing on their trampoline whilst the parents set up a BBQ for their friends and family. I can see the cool breeze,blowing through the trees and I remember how amazing that felt.

I instantly feel fueled with rage and bitter resentment.

I would give up everything just to feel the heat on my face and the welcoming coolness of the grass grazing between my toes. I want to have BBQ’s with the people I love and actually be able to enjoy the sunshine with them. I want to run along the beach and kick sand up in the air, plunging my feet into the ocean and embracing life’s natural beauty.

But, I’m here. Locked up with a sweltering heat that I cannot escape. There’s no cool breeze in my sun trap of a living room. There’s no freedom and absolutely no ocean. You can’t have a BBQ in my bathroom which is the only room in my house that has the slightest bit of cool edge to it.

All I can do is continue to do my time here and hope and pray, that next summer things will be different, oh I hope things are different.

I just want to be free.

Observe (Post Propt Challenge)

Observe.

There’s this lady, let’s called her Jenny.

I often find myself gazing out of my window , perched on the window seat with my morning coffee and my dog. I see Jenny everyday like clockwork and although we’ve never met, I find myself contemplating her life. Where is she going everyday? What’s her story? Why does she take this precise route?

But today was different. She normally paces with a determined stride, rarely glancing anywhere but the next step she’s taking. But today, she slowed down a little and her eyes stopped on mine. With a ball of coffee mixed with anxiety stuck in my throat, I froze and we shared a moment, pouring into each others eyes. I know this sounds like the start of a great (or terrible) romantic novel but this was different. She smiled at me and looked to the blue sky above. I watched as her chest inhaled and exhaled in a simple sigh. I saw in awe her smile turn into a gentle laughter and she took to my eyes once again. After gently nodding in acknowledgment at me she took to pacing the concrete just outside my garden fence again. I can’t pretend I was anything else but confused, still. I continued to people watch and ponder about life.

A few hours later I heard the clunk of my letterbox close so I went to investigate. Poking out of it was a small, white piece of paper. I pulled it out and read what was on it.

“Life is beautiful. Thank you for sharing that moment with me today – Same time tomorrow?”

Small reminders. You may feel alone and invisible, but today I was reminded that I’m not alone. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll find the strength to walk the paths with “Jenny”. Maybe I’ve made a new friend. But today, the girl who can’t escape was noticed and if that’s not a sign of freedom impending, I don’t know what is.

C x

Update 769.0

I relapsed. Mentally, I mean.

I guess that explains my long absence from writing.

I crashed, fell and came full frontal-face planting into “reality” so I did what I do best and hid away from everything.

The year started good, at least I think it did? My mental health has a great way of coming out of stealth mode when I least expect it. Yet, I crashed. I apologise to myself for not running to my blog when things got scary. I just couldn’t anymore. I couldn’t do anything.

I’ve taken myself off social media. I’m sorry to anyone who cares about me for my sudden vanishing act but you see, it was either that went or I did and I have too much to lose out here.

 

I’m tired but I faught it again. Now I just have to rebuild the pieces once again and try to rebuild whatever fucked up life I had before.

But, for now. I am back and I’ll try to be here more.

Thank you* for being patient with me.

 

 

*whoever *you* are – thank you for reading. Things are about to be wonderful.

 

 

 

Genuine liars.

People.

Trust.

Two words that don’t connect in my vocabulary.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about how bad it really is???” Hahaha

Why??

The last time I told you about how my mind is held prisoner by the thoughts I have. How I wake up fighting to live everyday. How I’m so afraid to go outside, I live protected in my home. How I’m isolated and alone in this world, even though I have people around me, I keep all my pain to myself because every time I open up, I look at people staring into their phones or glaring at a wall while I express my inner secrets. They don’t listen.

Don’t tell me you’re there for me.

Don’t tell me you fucking care.

Show it.

The morning after I killed myself..

The morning after I killed myself I embraced the smell of the coffee brewing. I opened the patio doors and smelled the sunshine. I sat down and watched the morning awaken through the conservatory windows.

The morning after I killed myself I was greeted with soft purrs from Yuna and happy tail wags from Belle.

The morning after I killed myself I greeted the man I love with a soft kiss on the cheek and a genuine smile. I laughed with him and fell in love again.

The morning after I killed myself I stepped outside into the sunshine and allowed it to envelope around me. I took a deep breath and I walked the path.

The morning after I killed myself I was met with a stranger with familiar eyes, happiness was shared in the brief moment we crossed paths.

The morning after I killed myself I went to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I spoke about the smells, the sights and the love. I spoke of the happiness from the people we’d see.

The morning after I killed myself I tried to unkill myself but I couldn’t finish what I started.
Over the past 10 years this has been my life. I know first hand what depression can do to a mind but I’m so grateful I never succeeded because trust me, my morning afters have always been worth it.

Scream, shout, cry, laugh.. do whatever it takes to ease the pain with people.

You are not alone.

Family

Friends

Strangers

Me.

HopeLine UK – 0800 068 4141

Samaritans Helpline: 116 123 (free of charge from a landline or mobile)
You are never alone.

The introduction to ninjapants.

So I’m not sure who’s reading this, or if anyone is but this is the start. It’s the start of recovery. For everything that’s been lost on the way. Myself, my soul, my trust..my fire. I wanted a place i could safely run away too. No judgement, just open honesty.

I’m Claire. I’m 27 and I’m afraid.

I have bipolar, agoraphobia, PSTD, depression and anxiety.

I’m afraid of everything but what kind of fucking person is scared of going outside? The irrational fear of dying outside and alone is overwhelming to the point i avoid it. I’ll start of slowly, there’s a lot to my story but thank you to anyone who is listening to me.. I hope i can help myself and hopefully you.