Scars

I haven’t responded to a Daily Prompt for ages. Ages and ages. Today I stumbled across it when I came here to write a post. It fitted my thoughts and feelings perfectly. It summarised what I wanted to write, so I am using the Daily Prompt today. It means I have to think a little less, and that will help.

I am revising for exams at the moment. One of my units is, essentially, about the brain. That of course means studying mood disorders: depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, the list goes on.

I find the brain so engaging and interesting and mind blowingly cool (excuse the unintentional pun). But that doesn’t make some of the topics any easier, when I have to revise them over and over again. Studying the brain makes me revisit memories, scars, I guess that you could say. It makes me remember things that I try my hardest not to think about. It pulls at my heart and pushes me over, and it breaks me. I’m trying not to let it break me. This is science, and it doesn’t have to involve looking back at the things that hurt me, but it does. I just can’t help it.

Leavers dinner, afternoon’s in coffee shops, summer drives, tears, late nights, fear, worry, love, pain, friendship.

It hurts. I’m trying not to cry. I have to take an exam on this. I have another three weeks of revision to get through before that exam. But memories are impairing my revision, and I need someone so badly to come and hold me and tell me that I don’t need to worry about the past. I want to be safe, and I want everyone else to be safe. But nobody is ever really safe. Everyone is haunted by their past, scars never go away, mental illness doesn’t go away, and it makes me fear for so many people in my life.

Disappointed

Do you have a friend who you would go to the other end of the earth for? Someone who you love unconditionally and would do anything for? Someone who isn’t quite like the others, and understands you in a way that nobody else will ever be able to? I do.

But I’m starting to think that perhaps I don’t understand friendship. That perhaps this is all very one sided, or something. I’ve got it wrong somewhere, because it just doesn’t work. I’m not sure that I even know what a friend is anymore. Maybe I’ve never known, maybe I’ve always been wrong. I just wish I’d figured that out before I got myself in too deep, because now I cannot turn back. I’m hurting, and I can’t change it.

I remember back to last year when at the last opportunity of seeing her before she went to university five hundred miles away, her mum didn’t allow her to go. I didn’t see her. I never got to say goodbye. I remember when we came home at Christmas and I was late taking her back home after coffee by about ten minutes and her mum was livid. And then Feburary, when despite that we had trains booked for her to visit me, the day before she came she changed one to go home earlier to help at her mums request. I always thought it was her mother. I feel awful that I’ve always held a slight grudge against her. Now I think that perhaps my friend just doesn’t want to see me. I wonder why she doesn’t just say.

I’ve never coped well with change, or changing plans. She knows that. But still they change, and still each time I expect them not to. But she doesn’t. She cancels, she changes them. It never works anymore. It’s no fun anymore.

All I wanted was to be normal. To have fun, to laugh and to smile. I just wanted to be like teenagers should be without tears and frustration. I just wanted one night. We’re done with university for four months, and I asked for one night. To be friends.

But yet again I’m crushed. Stupidly, I allowed myself once again to believe that once plans were made, they couldn’t be changed. But they’ve changed.

I don’t know. I’m clearly in here too deep, aren’t I? There’s a skew in understanding of friendship. Hers is very different to mine, and I often wonder if she actually really considers me a friend at all, or perhaps just someone who interferes, gets emotional too easily, and needs a shoulder to cry on once in a while. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to see me anymore for longer than she has to.

I would go to the end of the world for her. A few months ago I paid way more than I should have to visit her for an hour. I blew a weeks food budget. But I missed her, and I took the opportunity while I could. I thought I’d see her tomorrow, and tomorrow night. I thought I had managed to find 24 hours in four months where we were both free. But she’s not staying. I’ll only see her for an hour. She can’t come back to mine because she can’t pay the £2 bus fair home. She’s saving to pay for something big and every penny counts, she says. It’s strange that she finds time and money to go camping with other friends, or nights out, or to see her university’s friends when they come to England. But not me. She probably knows I’m hanging on too tight and whatever she says I can’t bring myself to let go. I love her too much and I will hold on forever to keep her in my life.

I’d just drive her home, but its not me that pays for petrol and I know my dad will be frustrated if I do. It would cost half as much for her to get the bus, and he’s annoyed that I always am the one to give people lifts and ferry them around. I don’t want to annoy him on Father’s Day weekend. He’s my dad.

I’d just stay at hers, but my brother needs the car. Besides, I specifically said I wanted her here to show her my new room and new running route. I don’t chose to live fifteen miles away!

I’m tempted to just give her the bus money. But it’s too late now. She would only stay because I was forcing her to. If she wanted to stay, she’d find £2. It will be no fun if she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to. It’s not mutual anymore. I’m broken. But I still want to put £2 in her hand and solve the problem. I miss her.

Perhaps I’m not worth it. Sometimes I sure feel like I’m not. I’m not worth the two pound bus fair. Our friendship isn’t worth that. And I was so excited. I got my hopes up. I sure as hell should have learnt by now, shouldn’t I?

And whilst a part of me wants to get angry and annoyed, and shout and scream that it’s not fair, part of my wants to stamp my feet and kick and tell her that she lets me down like this every time we have a plan, I won’t. If anything, I need to teach myself a lesson. I need to get over it. I won’t tell her that she has to stay and she can’t change the plan, because this is how it has always has been, and it won’t change her. She would be here because she thought she upset me, not because she wanted to be . That’s no fun! So instead, I can’t be like this. But it’s hard. She’s my friend. I wanted time with her this summer. I’m dissapointed.

I’m more than dissapointed, but I’ll try not to let that show. I don’t want her to know that I’m heartbroken and unconsollable right now. I’m trying to blame myself, it’s my fault. I don’t understand friendship. I’m not good with relationships and people. It’s all me. It’s not making it hurt any less though. She cancelled on me. Again. But I’ll see her for an hour. The time that she can afford.

It’s not fair, but there’s nothing I can do. I just have to be grateful what I have and instead, blame myself. It’s me that needs to change. 

But I love her. And she’s let me down. All I asked for was one night, but she let me down.

Freedom

I’m home, I’m free, it’s over. The first year of university is done, and somehow, I survived.

I’ve had a fantastic time, I’ve learnt so much and come so far in terms of positivity and confidence. I’ve learnt to make friends and to have fun. I feel like I’ve done okay and I hope the results will reflect that.

But for now I’m going to enjoy the freedom. I’ve gotten myself a summer job, I’ve got friends to spend time with and sunshine to enjoy. There’s fun to be had and the pressures are gone, so I must make the most of it.

For me, the freedom doesn’t happen that much. The pressures of exams provide a crippling pain and I’m bound by stress and fear. I’m keen to please, and deathly afraid of failure. But that is gone now.

Now, there’s walks to go on and ice creams to eat, there’s routes to run and nights out to have, plans to make and organisation to be done. It’s a four month summer and I must make the most of the freedom.

But am I really all that free? Or am I caught by the chains of my own existence? Trapped by the past and the future, a rabbit in the headlights and unable to escape. Unable to help myself, never mind others. Trapped. Bound. Afraid. Worried. Helpless.

500 miles

Yesterday, I needed someone. Yesterday, I cried for four hours solid. Last night was terrible, and I needed someone to stand beside me and prop me up for a while.

But there was nobody there, and I remembered how lonely university can be sometimes.

After a couple of hours, I decided to contact my best friend. I didn’t want to panic her, or worry her. It’s too close to exams for me to mess up her life again, but I just needed to hear her voice. I know that there’s nothing she can do from 500 miles away but I needed to know that somebody cared. I tried to keep my voice as even as I could. I didn’t want her to know that I was crying. I told her that I just wanted to say hi, but she was busy. She said she’d call me back later, but I knew as soon as she said it that she wouldn’t. I didn’t rest any hope on it at all like I may have done in the past. She’s rubbish at getting back to me sometimes.

I continued to cry for another two hours. I breathed deeply, I stood and talked to myself in the mirror, but nothing helped. Nothing made the shooting pain go away, and I cannot remember a time when I felt so alone.

I’m fighting with myself about if it’s okay to call her again today. I don’t know if I can afford to screw over her chances like I have so many times before. I don’t know if it’s time for me to grow up and face the world on my own. I don’t know if I should pretend it’s all okay, plaster a smile on my face, and get through my exams before I allow myself to think and feel. I don’t even know what I’m capable of.

I’m just in need of a friend, and it’s a friend that I couldn’t find last night. In my heart of hearts, I need to tell someone what is making me so upset, but I just don’t want to worry her. She’s busy.

But in reality, I know that I need her to find half an hour for me, but I don’t know if I can ask her to do that. I need her to listen, I need her not to get frustrated, and I don’t even know if I really need advice. I just need to know that someone’s there, because this isn’t an easy situation. Perhaps I’ll call her again at lunch time to say hi. I probably won’t though. I don’t know if she caught on. I don’t know if she’s just too busy. I don’t know if she’s completely oblivious, but it’s times like these when I wish someone like her noticed, someone who I trusted. I wish someone would ask ‘are you okay?’.

She said she’d call me back.
She’s 500 miles away.

Punishing Myself

There’s nothing that I hate more than upsetting those that I care about. It literally tears me apart and leaves me unable to move. Perhaps for some that may seem to be an overreaction, but when I really care for someone, I don’t want to upset them or make them angry. If I can, I want to always see them happy, and I definitely don’t ever want to be the cause of their unhappiness.

What frustrates me most of all though, is that usually, they’re upset through misunderstanding. I’ve angered them, but they’ve simply seen and taken a double meaning in something that I’ve said (usually by text) without actually stopping and considering what I may actually mean, or to ask questions and allow me time to explain. 99% of the time, I don’t mean it in the way that they’ve seen it. I’m not a hateful person, I’m really and truly not.

If anything, the slight anger or upset that I caused may not have that much of an effect on the person, but if they act as though it does and then disappear without actually confirming it, I suffer. My aim in life is not to break hearts, and it breaks my own to think that I may have done so.

I hate myself for causing upset in the world, when my soul aim is to try and create peace. I hate myself for not giving those who care about me what they deserve, and so even if it is only a minor slip, I will punish myself in the harshest way.

And so now, I find myself curled in my bed, suffering from the effects of the conversation I had with my best friend. While it would always punish myself if it has ended like this, today, I’m beyond angry. I don’t want to do this, and I can’t push her away. I’ve already had bad news today and I’m loosing far too much without her as well.

And I didn’t even say anything that was meant to be horrible in any way. It’s always a text message taken out of context. I flipping well hate texts, because they can have so many meanings whereas if you said it out loud there would be no doubt and you’d laugh together.

And now she’s gone. To eat, to a lecture, to ignore me, to work, I’ve no idea. But I am forcing myself to suffer. Because I may have hurt her. She’s stopped replying, and until I know for sure, I won’t allow myself to be happy. I’ve tipped the balance. I was wobbling this morning after hearing what I’ve heard, and so upsetting someone else was just too much for me today.

My aim is only to love, and I sure as hell don’t want to loose anyone, especially if it’s not my fault.

Please call me back, let it be okay. I’m afraid of everything, and I can’t do this without you.

Pain

After telling myself last night that I would have a lie in this morning, I woke up at seven with a stomach ache. Determined not to get up at such an ungodly hour on a weekend, I sat in bed with a bowl of granola, and watched a documentary.

It’s now 10.30am, and over the last hour or so, my stomach pain has gotten worse. Until now, I’ve been just about able to stagger to the toilet, but I’m not sure I could manage that now. The physical pain is excruciating, like someone is repeatedly stabbing me in my chest and stomach, and now I can barely move. I’m confined to my bed, curled in the foetal position, and fighting back tears. I don’t cry from physical pain, and I don’t intend to start right now. Standing makes me dizzy, and I have an overwhelming urge to be sick. It’s almost like I’m loosing feeling in my feet, but I’m telling myself that that’s impossible, I’m fine.

I don’t know what to do.

I can’t afford this today, I need to start revising, and catch up on the mountains of assignments. I need to have a productive weekend. Right now though, the pain is unbareable, and there’s no way I can sit at my desk. I don’t want to burden anyone, and I don’t know anyone well enough here to tell them, but I’m beginning to worry that this may be a little more than ‘just a stomach ache’.

Go away pain, let me sleep, let me work, let me do something. Please, I’m begging you.

Wandering Wonderer

I wonder how life would have been different if my best friend had eaten her meal at leavers?
I wonder how it would be if I’d just let her not eat anything, without comment?
I wonder what would have happened if she didn’t suggest that we went for a walk and a talk in the rain?
I wonder if things would be different if my favourite teacher hadn’t caught me on the way back in, angry and crying?
I wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t bothered to stop me, to calm me down, give me his jacket, and fetch me water?
I wonder if the outcome would be different if my biology teacher didn’t catch my eye on the way back in, forcing me to sit with her and asking if I was okay?
I wonder what I’d have said to that teacher if my other best friend hadn’t been sat with me, feeding me alcohol?
I wonder what would have happened if after my friend left, my chemistry teacher, sat on the other side of the table hadn’t tried to call me over?
I wonder if things would be different if I hadn’t had a silent conversation with her, trying to tell her that I couldn’t sit with my best friend in that close proximity after all that had happened?
I wonder about if when she did eventually persuade me to move, would the outcome have been different if she hadn’t clarified for certain my silent meaning, and beckoned my best friend over?
I wonder if things would be different if when I realised and tried to stand up, that teacher hadn’t grabbed my hand and pulled me back into my chair?
I wonder what things would be like if when she sat us face to face we’d have actually looked each other in the eye, instead of at our laps?
I wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t tried to obliviously rectify the mess with the words ‘You too are so close, you’re such good friends, you can’t fall out. You two need each other, and it’s leavers. What’s happened?’?
I wonder about the outcome if she’d had left it at that, and not marched us outside to ‘sort it out’?
I wonder what would have happened if when we got out there, my best friend hadn’t turned her back to me? What if I didn’t put my arms around her? What if when the chemistry teacher asked ‘So what’s going on then?’ I hadn’t answered with ‘I don’t know, because if I knew I’d have done something about it before now.’?
I wonder what would have happened if we didn’t cry?
I wonder what would have happened if my best friend hadn’t given me whispered permission to tell? What if I hadn’t told? If we’d lied, smiled, and skipped back inside?
I wonder if I would have spoken if my best friend hadn’t been clutching my hand?
I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t told her the second bit, too?
I wonder if it would be different if she hadn’t told the biology teacher, who by this point was standing nearby?
I wonder if it would have changed things if I’d been allowed to sit with my best friend on the bus, instead of at opposite ends with my biology teacher by my side, and the chemistry teacher by hers?
I wonder how that teacher would have reacted if I’d just ignored her presence instead of reluctantly leaning on her and being dragged into deep, deep conversation?
I wonder if it would have changed things if when we got off, I’d have skipped straight off to the pub with my friends like nothing had happened?
I wonder what it would have done if I hadn’t stayed until I knew she was safe?
I wonder what would have happened if I’d stuck to the intentions as I watched my best friend climb into my teachers car, and gotten drunk as I swore I would?
I wonder if the next day my best friend and I hadn’t sat on the bus to dofe and talked, things would be different?
I wonder if it would have changed things if when we got there she’d have just chosen her dinner instead of flitting around the menu for a good hour saying that she wouldn’t eat any of it?
I wonder if I’d have been as calm that evening if the biology teacher hadn’t cornered me in my bunkhouse room and checked how things were, giving me yet another pep talk?
I wonder what would have happened if they didn’t check my best friend’s food supply and make her buy more?
I wonder if things would have been different if she’d eaten all her food on dofe?
I wonder what the school would have done if she didn’t get blisters, and have to miss tour? I wonder if they’d have told her mum anyway?
I wonder if things would have changed if her mum had listened, and acted a little more appropriately?
I wonder what would have been the outcome if she did just go to uni and not eat?
I wonder if she does eat as she says she does?
I wonder if she’s going to get hospitalised?
I wonder why they didn’t just listen?

A lot of decisions were made by many on that night and the days that followed. Recently, the memories have haunted my dreams, and I can’t help but imagine how one little decision may have changed things for the better or worse.

But we’ll never know, and so we must make do with what we have, and the situation we’re in.

Everything will be okay in the end, somehow.

When You Miss Me

When I wrote my series of ‘open when’ letters for my best friend, I didn’t know what uni was like. When I wrote the one titled ‘open when you miss me’, I didn’t truly believe that she ever would miss me. I hoped she might, but I could never be sure.

Today, she said the words ‘I miss you, gonna open the envelope tonight’. I looked back at the letter that I’d written, and I realised that what I wrote all those months ago is not what I’d say anymore. If I were to write that letter again, I’d tell you some very different things.

If I could start over, and give you that letter again, I’d reassure you that it’s okay to miss me. I’d remind you that I miss you too, and that my heart burns whenever I think about you, or whenever I do something that makes me wish you were here. It’s okay to be emotional if you want, nobody (especially not me!) is going to judge you if you take down your wall for a few minutes. I know it’s built up high, but you can let me kick is down, I won’t hurt you.

I’d tell you that inside, I’m a little but glad you miss me. If we both miss each other, that just means that we’re super strong in our friendship, and that we deserve this. That we need this. That this keeps us alive.

If you said you wanted to hug me, I’d say that I wanted to be hugged, and I’d let you hug me forever if I could. But I’d also be quick to tell you that today is the one hundred day milestone. There’s only one hundred days now until you come and visit me, and very soon, we will be together. We’ll laugh the night away, we’ll eat ice cream and wagamamas, watch movies, and dance. We’re going to have an awesome time, and all the pain and the worries are going to go away, just for a weekend.

I’d say that if you want to talk to me, then call me. I’m here, 24 hours a day. But don’t let missing me ruin your degree. There’s more important things out there than me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise. But trust me, call me anytime, and I’ll answer you. Even if you just want to reassure yourself that I’m not going anywhere, that’s okay. Because you know what? I miss you too. I miss you smile, I miss your laugh, I miss the feeling of safety you bring. If you want to write, that’s okay. Even if all you want to say is bad things, you can still write. I’ll read it. I’ve got time for you, you’re super special.

Finally, I’d remind you that no matter how far away we are, we’re in this together. We’ll get through this together, just me and you. It’s us against the world. Forever and always. Four hundred and fourty five miles will never ever take that away.

I’d do it for you

If I needed you, would you be here? If I called your name, would you run? If I was screaming in pain, a monster attacking me, would you save me? If I told you that I was dying, would you come and hug me? Would you wipe away my tears? Would you cry with me? Would we get through it, together?

Because I’d do it for you. I’d swim oceans, I’d climb a thousand mountains, I’d sprint a hundred races, and I’d spend every single penny that I had left if you needed me. I care about you, so much. Nothing would get in my way, because if my best friend really needed me, me is what she would get. You see, it’s hard to say exactly how much she means to me, so instead, I ask you to imagine this. Imagine that there was someone out there who you cared about so much. Imagine there is is someone who gets you up in the morning, and memories of their smile get you through the day. That person gives the tightest and safest hugs, and you can physically feel the tension roll away when you’re in their arms. Imagine there is someone out there who gets your right every single time. They’ve got you sorted, they know exactly what to say and when. They know when to be kind, they know when to get angry, and most of all, they know when to say nothing at all. This person makes you laugh while you’re crying, but can also make you cry from laughing. You know that they’ll stand by your side forever, and you’d do the same for them. In fact, imagine that you care about your best friend so much that you’d willingly die for them.

I would. Every. Single. Time. I’d do it. I’d be there. Always and forever.

So on Monday morning, I ask for one thing only from this person who I value so much. I ask that you’ll take a second, and just be with me. Four hundred and fifty miles is a long away, but just take a moment to hold my hand, to reach out into the distance, and to pretend that you’re here with me. I’ll be doing the same for you.

Please say it’s not too late.

I knew there was something wrong last night. I knew it wasn’t quite normal. I don’t know how I knew, but something in my head told me it wasn’t right, and so I couldn’t sleep. The silence was abnormal, especially when she’d said earlier on that she wanted to see something. I couldn’t understand, but I pacified myself, and I slept.

I don’t know what I dreamt about in my sleep last night, but I know that it wasn’t pleasant. I woke up this morning, my ponytail hanging out, my neck blotchy, my covers tangled and my pyjamas in a mess. Normally, I’m a delicate sleeper, who doesn’t move. My dad has described me as sleeping beauty. I was definitely dreaming last night.

I promised myself last night that I wouldn’t be the first to talk today. I swore that I wouldn’t send the first message, or the first snapchat. I knew she’d been out last night, but when I woke up today and saw that there was no reply to last nights messages, and no drunk snapchat story, I was sure it wasn’t right. Thinking that perhaps she’d just lost her phone, I sent her a facebook message. A few other signs led me to complete uncontrollable panic before she replied. She’s alive, at least. No, actually, I’ve got that wrong. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that she’s simply living.

It’s rather odd that I sensed there was something wrong, when she’s so far away. But perhaps I already knew, really. A few days ago, she told me that she might have to start opening her ‘open when’ letters soon. I questioned it then, asked her if she was coping, but she denied all cases of struggle. Of course she did, she always lies to me.

I’m heartbroken. I’ve told her that later, she is going to Skype me, and she has to eat before then. I thought I was a friend, I thought that I was somebody that she could trust, and talk to. I can’t give her s choice this time, I’m just going to have to show her ghat distance doesn’t change anything. Everything had been going so perfectly, and now she’s crashed so suddenly. It was always too good to be true. I’m so worried about her, because there’s nobody up there who knows, and who can care for her. Oh wait, there’s nobody at all who actually really believes it. It’s just me and her against the world.

I can’t fix everything, but I need her to talk to me. Now, the questions are spinning around my head, and I’m glad I don’t have any lectures today. There’s no way I could concentrate. How long have you not been eating properly for? What’s happened? Have you done anything stupid? Why didn’t you talk to me?

I’m here for you. I love you. It’s a shame that you can’t trust me to be by your side as much as I trust you, because right now, you’re falling from the sky, and I’m beginning to worry that it might be just a little too late for me to give you a parachute.

Just thinking is killing me. But this isn’t about me. This is because I care about you. Deny it all you like, but it won’t change anything. I care, and I want you to talk to me. I don’t want you to be alone.

I don’t want you to die.