It's time

I feel it's time to write about who I am today.

Today feels lonely. I expected living alone would occasionally feel like this, and most days aren't lonely days but when they do suffice, they hurt. I feel the loneliness inside of me, creeping up my inside walls finding a way into my heart. It's a pain I can't describe, although I very much feel it. I can't tell you the root to my loneliness, as it's not being alone that hurts me. In a way I was used to being on my own before I moved out. I relied on myself for a very long time, at a very young age. Although now, I like my independence and have grown with it. I am not the scared little girl I was six years ago. I am not the self harmer or the girl who cries too much any longer. I am merely the girl who's moved on with her life, and I think I'm doing pretty well. However, these feelings become blurred when loneliness kicks in.

My eighteen year old self no longer cries weekly in mourning over my Mother. If I'm totally honest, I rarely let myself think of the loss. Don't get me wrong I still think about her and the times we shared, however I no longer have to cry myself to sleep in order to try and release these emotions. I've learned the feelings will never escape, it is just something I have to live with and cope with or I'll go crazy trying to fight them. 

"The sense of loss will never ebb away, it simply becomes part of you, like a familiar coat or cardigan you wrap around you. But this pain and loss makes you stronger, giving you a sense of purpose to go on and to continue your life as your Mum would want you too..." 

After someone special to me offered these kind words, I realised there is no better way to describe my loss than that. At first, the coat is heavy and pulls you down. It is a burden. However as time travels and you seem to be rooted to the same spot without movement, you realise when you peer back how far you've come. It doesn't hit you right away, and if I'm completely honest, It has only just dawned on me how different I am to the girl who lost her mummy. When I say to myself I was only twelve when she was taken, my heart breaks into a million pieces. I'm always going to be that twelve year old somewhere deep down. However I've learned to build on her, make her stronger and independent. I've learned to embrace the feelings that used to haunt me, and I feel like a different person altogether sometimes. I've made her proud, I'm sure of it...and from the day she passed, that was my one and only goal.

For Ellie

I know you can't remember this, sweetie. So I'll remember it for you. After Mum was diagnosed with cancer the first time and she was at home in remission, she sat us both together on her bed and told us some things I can never forget. "I love you girls more than anyone in this whole world. You know that, and don't you ever forget it." She said this with tears in her eyes, looking more vulnerable than ever. "...And if anything ever happens to me, you both promise me you'll look after each other and care for each other and stand by one another's sides? Promise me" I don't blame you for being too young to remember Ells, you were only eight...but we did promise her. And although I feel like I haven't stuck to my promise, and haven't been there for you as much as I should of been, well I just want you to know I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and standing by you through tough and easy. I love you Eleanor, with all of my heart and everything else I have. You're my baby, and you always will be. Don't ever forget how far you've come, and how far you're going. You have the world at your feet and I will always be proud of the beautiful young woman you've turned into. Forever and always my princess, I promise. x

Flashback of the past

I stare at the ceiling, the swirls in the paint making my head feel dizzy. The pain in my chest becomes all too real now, like someone is sitting on the top half of my sixteen year old body. I feel my eyes well, although I was sure I'd ran out of tears an hour ago. Feeling sorry for myself is not something I enjoy. I appreciate the moments of independence and strength I sometimes feel when my mind lets me forget for a short while the pain I'm feeling. However, now is not one of them times and I feel tired and worn out but sleep is not an option.

I see her in front of me. Dancing, laughing and sipping from her glass, any worries she has are not important right now. She is Fourty, and I am nine. My feet ache from the high-heeled shoes she let me wear, after me begging and getting Dad to agree to buy them for me. I look at her now, really look. She seems so happy. I've never seen her look this care-free and young. She dances and swings her hair in time to the music. Nan comes to join her, something I'm surprised to see. I smile and giggle as I watch them make fools of themselves. Running over to join in the fun, I realise my mum is beautiful. I've never noticed before now how shiny her hair is and how pretty she looks when she smiles. I tug her hand, and she holds mine. I reach for Nan's and she laughs, taking mine in hers. They swing me around, letting me down to dance with them. My legs struggle to keep up with theirs. Ellie pushes herself into the middle of the three of us, I'm glad to see her. My little sister. She looks just as beautiful as Mum, and envy washes over me. What I'd do to look like my baby sister. The feeling disappears as quickly as it came. I pick her up as she giggles and swings her legs around me. We dance like this, but not for long. Ell's runs after Mum and Nan, who are escaping the dance floor. I follow them, feeling completely overwhelmed by happiness.
The memory ends there and I come crashing back to reality, hitting it hard. I'd been so lucky to experience the love my Mum had showered me with, but I can't help feeling betrayed and cheated. It's not fair she had to leave this world. It's not fair she's never coming back. It's just not fair me and Ellie had to say goodbye to our mummy when we had so many things planned. Although, I've learned fairness doesn't come into it. She is gone, and a thousand tears can't change that. I thank whoever's up there for the time I spent with my mummy, and curse them in the same moment that they'd stolen her away from us when I was only twelve, and Ellie was only nine.

Empty and overflowing

"Smile!" I shouted as I focused my gaze on the beautiful woman through the lens of my throw away camera. I clicked once, twice, three times just for good luck. She rarely let anybody take photographs of her, she'd always be the one behind the camera. So when she said yes to a photo I was over the moon. She had posed smiling, and my heart had swelled with affection. I ran across the sand and fell next to her, hugging her from the side. I kissed her cheek and the familiar scent of her skin made me smile. She always smelled so lovely, like honey and white musk. She leaned her head on mine as I rested on her shoulder. We both stared in the same direction, in no direction. The sound of seagulls numbed my brain and made it almost impossible to think about anything else. I was grateful though. I didn't want to sadden myself, I was enjoying my mummy's company. It seemed a lifetime ago that she was lying in a hospital bed, fighting an almost impossible battle. Somehow, she did it though...and the thought only made my throat tighten and my eyes fill with tears. So for now, all I wanted to think about was the sound of the sea gulls, the waves crashing against the shore and the scent of honey and white musk.

I had the same feeling in my throat now, as I did that very day. The memory of my mum never failed to cause a painful, hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach. I wrapped my arms around myself, squeezing as hard as I could. I pressed my forehead against the wall, and let felt my body shake as I cried as hard as I could. I stayed like that for however long it took before finally falling into a unsettled sleep. 

I ran my fingers across the glass and watched her smile at me through the gaps between the blinds. Her face lit up and she looked as healthy as she'd ever been. I could of almost completely forgot she was sick, until I noticed the tube that was rooted into mummy's chest. The tube was normally clear, but this time it was red. I knew mummy was having a blood transfusion, something I'd heard her discussing with Nanny Sue. She turned her head to look out of the small window, when all of a sudden I felt myself moving backwards. I wasn't walking, or really moving...but I could see her getting further and further away. I felt utterly helpless. I wanted to run as fast as I could, to curl up next to her in her hospital bed and she'd stroke my hair the way she always did. However when I tried to run, I felt nothing but the weight of my legs holding me firmly where I was. I fell down, clawing at the ground beneath me, at the air around me. I became manic and couldn't seem to stop the feeling of desperation overcoming me completely. I started to fall, unable to grab anything that would stop me from descending further. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes stung and my cheeks were wet. I couldn't stop my tears from pouring, I couldn't possibly begin to try. 

I felt my body jolt and my eyes were now very much open. I was forced back into a world I had no means of escaping, a pain I had no way of coping with. The reality of my mum's death hit me once again, like a train with no lights. My chest seemed to tighten, and I felt the hollow feeling I was now so accustomed to, deepen and swallow me whole...promising to never let me free.

My loneliness reaffirmed...

I collapsed onto my bed in a heap after another lonely day at school, missing my Mummy so much.
 I felt horrid. I had a headache due to crying for hours and I really didn't want to see or speak to anybody. I heard the front door open, followed by the sound of heavy boots and the door slamming. He wasn't in a good mood. I hated that my happiness depended on him. I couldn't stand the apprehension and worry about how he was feeling, because if he wasn't happy, then it seemed like he wouldn't let anybody else be, either. I felt guilty about disliking him, he must have been going through so much. He'd been with Mum for twenty years, and although they argued and he didn't treat her the way I think she deserved, he was grieving for her, too.
I felt my stomach tighten as I heard him coming up the stairs and I waited. My bedroom door swung open and he entered my room. No knock, no nothing.
"For fuck's sake, Kirsty. You're room's a fucking shit hole, and if you don't clean it up right now you're not going to nan's tomorrow." I felt my eyes well up all over again, I didn't understand how I even had any tears left.
 "Please don't shout at me," I said.
 "Don't back chat me, Kirsty. Do as you're fucking told."
He stormed out, leaving my door open. I felt so shit. I knew I was probably being selfish, but I couldn't remember a time when my father had asked me how I was feeling. I was never asked: "How was your day at school?" or, "How do you feel today?"
My Nanny Sue, however, did ask me how I felt and she consoled me, and my sister, Ells. I  loved going to see her because I knew she cared and looked after me.
 I laid down again, and for the millionth time I cried myself into a restless sleep.

I woke four hours later and stayed in my room for the rest of the night. When I heard him going to bed, I winced, jumped into bed and pulled the covers over my head. I'd been cleaning my room like he'd told me to. The landing floorboards creaked as he neared my bedroom. The door handle slowly turned and finally clicked open and I felt him standing behind me.
"Kirsty, I told you to tidy this fucking room. Why don't you just do as you're told?! I'm getting fucking sick of this, if it isn't done when I get up for work tomorrow your bags are packed and you're fucking gone. Do you hear me?!"
Of course I heard him, next door probably did, too. "It's half eleven I'll just do it when I get back from school tomorrow." I knew he'd be angry at me for back chatting, but it really was late and I'd be so tired in the morning if I didn't get to sleep. My room wasn't even that bad, although my uniform was on the floor along with a few of my other clothes. I accepted it needed cleaning, but I could do it tomorrow and I wouldn't have to rush.
 I could feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of my head, and I pulled the covers over my head again. This time I closed my eyes, and I hoped he'd just go away. I felt his hand clutch my duvet, and then the cold air hit my body. He'd torn the covers off of me, and they now lay in a heap in the middle of my floor. I cowered and waited for more shouting.
"Do as you're fucking told. Now!" He pointed his yellowing finger in my face, and I reached for my duvet. He slapped my hand back, and I looked up into his cold hollow eyes. I knew that I'd crossed a line.
"I'm sorry, please. I'll do it. Just go away," I pleaded.
 "Don't tell me what to fucking do. I'm sick of your attitude, Kirsty. I wish I'd never fucking had children."
 He continued to look at me, but after a few seconds he left. I knew I'd have to do my room tonight, no matter how tired I'd be in the morning. I didn't have a choice. I wasn't hurt by what he'd said, he'd told me too many times he wished he'd never had children ... and after a while, I began to wish he hadn't either.

No shelter

The bell rang through my ears and I clutched hold of my school bag. My coat was already on, and I was getting ready to leave. The school day was over and I was dreading the walk home. Although, it wasn't really the walk I hated, it was what was waiting for me at the end. I started towards the door, and was pushed into the centre of a crowd. As we all battled to get out of the classroom at the same time, I saw Charley coming out of the room opposite. My heart dropped and I bowed my head. I really didn't want any confrontation so I walked a little faster and managed to get out of the double doors first. She was right behind me, but I was already jogging down the stairs. As I turned the corner and carried on downwards, I came to a group of people all trying to exit the science block at the same time. I slowed down, having to walk extremely close to everybody around me. I felt somebody tug my hair, forcing my head backwards. I knew it was Charley. I carried on walking, I was nearly out now and things were speeding up. I heard laughing and suddenly felt somebody shove their foot in front of mine, causing me to trip and fall into the person I was following. I was unbelievably embarrassed but by the sound of the laughter coming from behind me, Charley didn't feel the same. I turned around and my fist came flying out in front of me, catching the side of her face. She stumbled back, but I hadn't done any real damage. That was the first time I'd ever hit anybody, and I knew I'd be willing to do it again if the bullying continued. I was sick of people thinking they could walk all over me.

I practically ran out of the school, not really slowing down until I couldn't see anybody else with the familiar blue jumper on I was wearing myself. I was nearly home when I started crying. I'd done so well up until now to hold it in. I was nearly home, and my eyes were red and sore. I turned my key in the lock and I saw my nan waiting for me on the other side. She'd been staying with us since mum died to help Dad out. She was his mum and she said she'd help him out with anything he needed. She looked worried now, maybe even annoyed. "Nan, what's happened?" I asked. She didn't ask me why I'd been crying, although I knew it was obvious. "I've just come off of the phone, I'm not too sure what to make of it, but I thought I'd ask you first. Someone called to tell me that you'd be expected to attend an hour detention this Friday for bullying a girl called Charley. They said you had hit her, and made her cry before leaving school. Is this true?" I couldn't believe it. Was I really being accused of bullying her?! I automatically knew something wasn't quite right. If I had a detention, why didn't they send a letter home like they normally would? "Nan, was it a woman? Did she tell you her name? Are you sure she was a teacher?" I had so many questions I needed her to answer. She looked at me, focusing on me hard. "Yes, it was a female. I wouldn't say a woman, I don't know why. Just, she sounded so immature and well, not much older than you really. Mmm, No. I don't think she told me her name either. I'm sure she didn't, actually" It all made sense. Charley had gotten my home number from Nicola and rang my nan, pretending to be a teacher. What a fucking bitch.

I was laying in the bath when I became unbelievably angry all of a sudden. How dare she ring my house phone. We'd lost my mum only eight months before. None of us needed this shit, and even at home I couldn't escape it. She was continuously making comments at school, and most of the time I didn't care too much. However, after continuous insults I started to get tired and quite frankly fucked off. I was sick of her thinking she could get away with bullying me...and if she was going to start involving my family, I'd need to do something about it.
After confronting Nicola over text, she'd explained what had happened. She had given my number to Charley like I'd suspected, which she was extremely sorry for...but it wasn't actually Charley who had rang my nan. She'd gotten one of her friends to make the call, although it was Charley's idea, she explained. I couldn't contain my anger. She didn't actually have the "balls" to do it herself, but needed to hurt me in some way. For the millionth time, I reached deep into my draw and pulled out my blood-stained silk purse. I zipped it open, and poured the shiny blades onto the carpet. Many of them were rusty, but I couldn't bare to throw them away. I never used them, and I knew something was definitely wrong with me. I had such a deep connection to these pieces of rusty metal, and I knew I was completely pathetic. I pulled out the shiniest, newest blade and began to release the anger I'd never be able to do in any other way.

Blah Blah Blah

I still can't understand how somebody can moan about things I write on my blog. I never asked anybody to read it, so if you don't like it, just stop reading. I'm still a "nut job" but it's okay now because I know that it's not me that's the deluded one. If people can read it, and still only think about themselves then I simply don't want them in my life anyway, not that I did to begin with. So, I just want people to know I'm okay with what they say now, because I really don't care any more. To me, you're all long forgotten about, and I'm writing my memories. If you don't like that, then think about why. If you'd of never done anything in the first place, then you wouldn't be so fucked off now. Seriously, like I was asked the other day "It's been three years since school, why are you bringing it all up now?" Well you know what? I've finally come to terms with the fact that it wasn't my fault, and that I shouldn't be ashamed for writing what's happened to me. They should be.

Gratitude

I could hear sea-gulls and the sound of the waves crashing and then meeting the shore. Salty air filled my lungs and I longed to never to exhale. I wanted to smell that scent for ever. Suddenly my head was full of memories. I had been happy once, truly happy. My mum was to thank for that though, and now she was gone my happiness had stayed loyally by her side. I could see her smiling at me now, telling me I was beautiful. She used to tell me that a lot. I missed the way she'd place her hand on her tummy when she laughed. I felt myself starting to cry again. I was so pathetic. The pebbles underneath me shifted as I fell onto them. I didn't have the energy to stand up-right any more, and the stones seemed to smell of mummy too.

"Kirsty, come on now get out of the sea we're going back to the caravan." My heart dropped. I really didn't want to go yet, I was having so much fun. "Oh, do we have to?" I moaned. "Unfortunately we do. Now if you'd help us pack up the stuff then we can get going...and then we'll go to Sidmouth after your shower to have a nice meal." She always knew how to make something good of everything. I walked up the slip way towards the caravan with my rubber ring around the waist. I couldn't stop smiling. I'd had such a good day at the beach with Mum, Ellie, Nanny Sue and Granddad. Me and Ell's had spent the whole day in the sea, swimming and playing. My mummy came running past me and I knew that meant she was challenging me. I could see the caravan by now, and I started running as fast as my legs would let me. Running with a rubber-ring wrapped around me wasn't the easiest of things, and I soon fell arse over titt. On my speedy way to the floor, I managed to put my hands in front of me. They took the brunt of it, but there was only a few grazes. I heard my mummy's laughter before I saw her running back to me. "Are you hurt? You're not hurt are you?" I showed her my hands and laughed myself. She carried on laughing and helped me up. "If it's going to be anybody, It's going to be my Kirsty Anne."

The memory of that day shone vividly, and my body had began to shake. What had I ever done to deserve no mummy? Everybody else had theirs. I saw them holding hands and laughing and I couldn't help but feel cheated and jealous. I'd took my mum for granted and it had never crossed my mind I was ever going to be without her. I couldn't even think about it without feeling so unbelievably guilty. I hated the thought of my mum dying and her not knowing how much I loved her. I just had to pray every night that she didn't die thinking I wasn't grateful for what she'd done for me...because even though she'd been taken from me, I still got the chance to be her daughter.