I can’t shake the thought of us
coming to each other’s rescue
It’s what you always do for me
and I want you to need me, too.
Author: writersamr (Page 22 of 45)
I am ten years old and it’s late afternoon one day in 1998. My mum is pottering around the kitchen part of our small kitchen-diner. My dad is taking a photo of me and I’m grinning. I’m wearing a baggy green camouflage-pattern t-shirt that used to belong to my older cousin, and black Adidas tracksuit bottoms (with three stripes going down the sides of the legs, which is always better than two, because it means I can run two of my fingers down my leg in between those three raised white stripes instead of just one finger between two stripes, which feels much better somehow). To top off my ensemble I’m wearing a hot pink hat which is soft with a furry rim, which is a slightly lighter pink to the rest of the hat but no less garish. I am surely the most stylish ten-year-old in Northamptonshire. Who needs matching clothes anyway?
Oh, and I’m singing into a banana. Obviously, because I’m playing my favourite new compilation album on the hi-fi, which is Now Forty-something-or-other. I’m probably listening to Perfect Ten by Beautiful South, or Horny, by whoever that was by, because that was on the album, and as a ten year old I have no idea what the word horny means, so I sing along as loudly as possible. I don’t know why this woman has horns on her head. Is she a devil or a unicorn? Who knows.
There are pictures on the fridge that I drew in felt tip or paints. This room is my art gallery as well as my concert hall. I stand on a dining chair because that’s all part of the routine – I have to stand on a chair. I’m an exhibitionist. My forefinger and index finger on my left hand sit between those Adidas stripes on my leg while I clutch my makeshift microphone with the other hand. I watch myself singing and dancing in the mirror hanging above the table. I’ve got moves. I am awesome.
someone opened the cage door
but I have nowhere to fly to.
I fear my wings won’t take me
far enough. what is the outside
world like? which way is right?
who would want me to fly to them
anyway? I’m sure I’ve no idea. they
might as well just shut me in. here I
will collect dust while those
around me take flight. I don’t
know where to fly or if I’m even
capable of flying, much less
going on my own.
I can’t remember who I wrote this for or why, but it was probably important at the time.
Five ways I have seen myself today
Still got health stuff to sort out which I’ve asked my doctor for a referral for. Nothing major but I’m sick of dealing with it every time it flares up and at the moment it just seems like it’s one thing after another to deal with, constantly, all the time.
Go for a drive after dark.
Drive out into the countryside.
Do it on a clear night.
Take yourself somewhere quiet.
Pull over into a layby, by a field or on a hill.
Make it somewhere where you can see the important things. The stars. The moon.
Lock the car doors.
Take off your seatbelt. Make yourself comfortable.
Look up at the sky.
Look for the North Star and the big dipper.
Look at the city lights across the way.
Look at the fields.
Look at the nothing.
Feel the nothing.
Be at peace.
Hello! This blog post is all about how to give yourself an enema in preparation for having an endoscopy, sigmoidoscopy, etc. Just like my
last blog post, the stuff I talk about here is true for my local hospital here in England and might not be exactly the same for you.
Hello! I had my gastroscopy and flexible sigmoidoscopy (aka endoscopy) on Friday and I thought I’d do a blog post to give you an idea of what both are like. I know lots of people get worried about these things, aren’t always sure what to expect if it’s their first time, and therefore look online for other people’s experiences to find out what’s going to happen. I know this because I’m one of those people, and even though I’ve had both procedures before, this time I still had a little look online to try to reassure myself that it wouldn’t be too bad.
Before we get going, let me point out that I live in Northamptonshire in England, and some things might happen differently for you if you live elsewhere or outside of the UK.
look at us all sitting here
with pieces missing
acting like we’re whole
I don’t think I have ever been so stressed out about going for checkups before.
I don’t know why this time feels so much worse. I don’t even like being distracted because every time the distraction goes away it’s like waking up from a good dream and remembering that everything is shit. Actually, those couple of minutes when I’m just waking up are the best part of the day because I’m still half asleep and haven’t yet remembered anything.
But I’ll be out with friends and family on Thursday night. And Friday is basically a day off work, taking some drugs in the morning, and spending the rest of the day on the sofa watching Netflix. And hopefully everything will feel better and I’ll be back to my normal self. Because these past few weeks have not been fun at all.
