Mother

Gone forever existing as a fading memory
Death by suicide can still visualise your sad listless eyes
Mother i will never forget about you
You’re indelible illuminating presence is embedded in my damaged mind

There was once bitterness and anger at losing you in the apex of my adolescence
Now though its been replaced by a excruciating sadness a pang of melancholy
I want to glimpse your face to feel your loving arms wrapped around my shoulders one last time
I want that so fucking badly i want your love but you’re gone evaporating into nothingness

Your ethereal otherworldly beauty endures in these happy childhood memories and the assortment of photos i hang on my bedroom wall
Still without you i have a eternal emptiness a hollow in the pit of my soul
I can see your iridescent emerald green eyes with your fiery auburn hair captivating everyone who was blessed with your presence
I can hark back to holidays in the south of England with you and daddy holiday filled with laughter with days that ill will never forget

Mother I want you tonight i want you to alleviate mu depression
I want you to dry my tear soaked face
I want that boundless unconditional love
Mother i will never grief or recover form losing you at the fragile age of 13

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Rumbling In My Stomach

I see has angelic radiating face my heart flutters
My stomach rumbles with nervous excitement
He smiles at me with his immaculate iridescent smile
Why is he gazing at me i averted my gaze as his luscious emerald green eyes beguile me

When i see him at the coffee bar in the university campus I’m transfixed by his divine statuesque body
I always though blinded encumbered by a crippling social anxiety act aloof not wanting to reveal the tumult of amorous feeling flowing in my body
He gets me all hot and sweaty just thinking about him dreaming of the ecstasy of falling in love having sex with this ethereal creature

My stomach rumbles my hands shake with pure adrenaline
I cant contain my awkwardness my body overridden with anxiety
When he finally break the ice and exchange a few monosyllabic pleasantries the fear is overwhelming
I cant control my body i try to maintain a semblance of serenity of calmness in his vicinity
After this awkward exchange i almost collapse from the anxiety pulsating

I’m positive he’s only being kind and amiable in engaging in a brusque conversation with me
Why would he be attracted to a ugly loser like me
Look at him with his perfect flowing brunette hair and me with my unkempt messy appearance bereft of beauty
Still the dream of love of sex of emotional intimacy consumes me he’s forever in my thoughts

2AM Phone Call To The Salvation Army Crisis Hotline

Its 2 am in the morning my hands are shacking covered in blood from another masochistic bout of self harm. I’m laying on my kitchen floor with a razor blade in my right hand my left arm looks ravaged with several vertical deep lacerations on my underarm. My pain receptors are dulled and numb from the excess of whisky i have devoured throughout this lonesome evening. I cant feel the pain of my wounds that will happen tomorrow on top of a punishing hangover. I’m in a dark place at my wits end seriously considering ending my life. Elgar cello concerto echoes throughout the thin walls of my flat playing on my Bluetooth speakers. As I hear the heart wrenching sublime sound of Jacqueline du pre playing the cello with adroitness tears stream down my ashen face devoid of beauty.

I’m crying uncontrollable unable to control my breathing. Breathing in and out at a frantic rate I repeat the phrase in my hand I can’t breathe i cant breathe for several minutes. I feel like death the dread is overpowering the suicidal thoughts overpower my intoxicated mind. I’ve spent all Saturday with the curtains shut in my flat and wearing my crimson silk pyjamas. I commenced drinking my whisky and coke cocktail around 2 in the afternoon wanting to nullify the pain i been subsisting with for the previous several weeks. I cant bare it anymore I’m a 23 year old living alone living with severe depression with a impairing social anxiety disorder and a myriad of other mentally ill symptoms indicative of a long term untreated psychosis. I have neglected important pivotal friendships due to the severity of my social anxiety and the depression has compounded my desolate suicidal disposition. I feel like such a fucking loser a freak who’s been condemned to a life of abject misery and being sequestered from the human race from the kindness and love of strangers due to my disorders.

In my paralytic condition wanting to end my life with the razor blade hovering perilously above my wrist i take a last chance and call the suicidal army crisis hotline. I can’t call any of my family or a distant friend who are still lodged in my iPhone contact list who i still consider a friend. To bare my soul to unload my desperate fragile mental state to somebody I know fills my heart with dread. Especially calling them at 2 in the morning in my delirious drug frenzied state. Throughout the years i have carefully concealed the depths of my pain my anxiety my suicidal predilections my self harm from anybody with whom who knows me who cares for me. Hence i conclude to call of the kind soft spoken sympathetic listening operators with whom I’ve spoken with on numerous occasions on the past several years. This time though i want to die i need to be reminded given any reason why I should remain alive to be part of the living.

My hands are shacking profusely my lips are quivering snot is flowing from my nose I’m a drunken mess wanting to hear a solemn voice in my hell. Dialling the number still on the kitchen floor slumped in a drunken stupor actually terrified of speaking to a volunteer and divulging my desire to end my life. The number rings three times a volunteer answers my forlorn call with a hushed dulcet voice that immediately assuages my anxiety. “Hello how can i help you”
She initiates our conversation. There’s a awkward silence of 10 seconds before I gather myself before i control my breathe and blow my nose.
“ hello mam i want to kill myself i cant stand the pain anymore I’ve got a razor blade and i want to slash my wrists.” My voice cracks i can hardly speak as i utter these words and pronounce my thoughts to another soul. The listener responds with stereotypical calmness trying diligently to appease me to convince that not take a deleterious action. “ please put down the razor blade try to calm down how long have you been feeling suicidal or depressed.” She utters in a unwavering calm manner as i acquiesce to her simple demand placing the blade on my blood stained lilo kitchen floor. I respond opening myself to another human being allowing for once an person into my inner world.
“ I have been living with this depression for years living with anxiety but for the past several months the hurt of existing has grown more severe. Everyday i think about killing myself. There’s nobody in my life who cares about me i am alone in the darkness i cant endure it anymore i just want to end the pain of my pathetic life” I break down and become inconsolable with rivers if sadness cascading down my face . My hands collapse into my tear drenched face I’m still encamped on the floor with arms coated in my blood i wait patiently for a response to my verbose declaration of my fractured psyche.
“Please calm down I’m listening to you understand there are people I’m certain in your life who care for you. I’m sure you have friends and family who would be devastated if you committed suicide” There was a uncomfortable silence as the amiable listener waited for my response. I responded barely able to articulate my thoughts with a voice stammering and quivering.
“Tttankyou for your www words i jjust nneeded somebody to talk to i know i need help that i need therapy i need to speak to my friends about my dire emotional state” I was amazed at how lucid i was in in my intoxicated suicidal mind space.

The listener realised her compassionate words had dissuaded me from ending my life that this was a despairing cry for help in the bleak hours of a Sunday morning. She concluded our brief conversation have sage words of advice.
“ I’m promising you that you’ll feel better in the morning. You’ve taken the first steps in dealing with your mental illness actually speaking to another person showing that bravery. I’m asking you to talk about your depression your anxiety with your mother and father they care for you and then take the next scary steps of speaking with a therapist who will ameliorate your condition. I’m proud of you that you put down the razor blade and can you please promise me you wont end your life” She concluded as I responded tentatively
“Thank you for hearing for taking my call for listening attentively to my lamentable words. Its so cathartic to talk to a stranger to realise I’m not alone in this cold world that somebody cares about me. Thank you mam I promise i wont kill myself”
We then in unison said our goodbyes as i terminated by 2am call to the Salvation Army Suicide hotline. I sat there for minutes afterwards on the floor with a strange feeling of elation pulsating in my body. I got up sauntered languidly to the bathroom and removed the dried blood stains from my hair and in my listless drunken stupor applied a profusion of disinfectant to my self infected wounds. Still with my pain receptors numbed from the excessive of alcohol i felt no pain. Walked to my bedroom deciding to mop up the excess of blood on my kitchen floor tomorrow.

I lay in my bed for minutes feeling like a human being that matters the loneliness had temporarily dissipated in that pivotal early morning interaction.

I Wish I had £100,000 To Spend On My Body

My body haggard and worn down
My bones ache as I walk
I glare into the mirror see all the cracks the flaws
A body falling apart at the seams wrinkles on my body a face devoid of beauty

Eyes listless haunted with years of loneliness and depression
Lips pale and pallid that once were lustrous now are cracked with the ravages of time
Hair unkept with a profusion of split ends a visual metaphor of my weary fractured mind

I gaze for minutes at my saggy diminutive flat breasts I’m so unattractive so unappealing
The tired bags underneath my haunted bloodshot eyes that radiate sadness
My fingers shake with disquiet at this repulsive sight of my grotesque physical appearance
I drop to the floor unable to bare the sight of my ghostlike image as tears cascade down my face

I want to be alluring to be regarded as a enticing creature
I want perfect voluptuous breasts that catch the attention of beguiling males physical specimens
I want immaculate ivory teeth devoid of flaws
I want to be rid of this pernicious self loathing to never have this all consuming social anxiety I want to look in the mirror and not be overcome with suicidal desires

The Strange Women At Flat Number 28

This beguiling eccentric women who resides at flat 28
A flat directly above me
I see her occasional saunter out of the block of flats
She walks with a weariness with a detached aloofness

We on rare moments came across each other
We exchange these monosyllabic awkward pleasantries
No long effusive conversations just stilted interactions
I want to know these alluring gothic nymph who exudes beauty and sadness

She’s so quiet and unassuming
Keeps to herself rarely venturing outside of her intimate enclave
Does she have friends is so in a relationship I don’t think so
She so blindingly attractive with her luscious flowing brunette hair and porcelain fragile skin

She is vulnerable i see it in her hauntingly melancholic emerald green eyes
Sometimes she acts so odd and erratic rushing home frantically even running on occasion
I fervently want to ask out this enchanting creature that in my mind is the perfect blend of vulnerability and physical beauty on a date
I want to knock on her door have her beckon me inside her private chamber and enjoy a evening of engaging conversation with alcohol music and romance i want to be romantically acquainted with my eccentric neighbour who lives directly above me

The Wedding Part 1

Its 8:00 am i have awoken at a ungodly early hour on a clement august Saturday in my old bed in my old house on this supposedly momentous day. Its the day of my fathers wedding day his second wedding nearly 10 years since the traumatic suicide of my mum. 10 years ago my mum killed herself in this same house me and daddy discovered her hanging from a light fixture in the living room. I can still smell the pungent odour of death and despair in our haunted living room.

Today though is a happy joyous occasion for my father or daddy as i affectingly call him. Its a ecstatic day for daddy who after years of withering away in loneliness after years of being stricken with grief has found love. I am happy for him though my fractured neurotic mind is permeated with negative emotions. For weeks months years I’ve been severely depressed to the point of seriously contemplating suicide. I decided in my self indulgent self obsessed mind to kill myself approximately several weeks proceeding this wedding. I don’t want to infringe or in any way despoil daddy’s happiness. Today is also on top of the severe suicidal depression this wedding day for months and weeks has been filling me with panic inducing anxiety. I am cursed with a untreated social anxiety disorder which means i eschew public events such as wedding birthdays or the majority of social functions in favour of being alone in the enclave of my humble abode. Hence this wedding has been giving me vexation for weeks i cant forgo attending my fathers second wedding what will family and friends say. I have to hide my anxiety my melancholic proclivities for an entire day and hope and pray that I don’t suffer a harrowing panic attack. Fortunately I haven’t been asked to speak in the post wedding reception so that relive is alleviating my anxiety.

Laying horizontal nervously tucked inside my old black gothic duvet covers not wanting to vamoose from the cosy warmth of old duvet. Last night I slept maybe an hour of sleep that’s all the acute anxiety that’s been building up for weeks reached a fever pitch last night as I became cognisant of the torture of attending a wedding. A day of unrelenting anxiety having awkward conversations with distant relations having to hide my sadness my deleterious anxiety. Last night my hands were shacking furiously i kept tapping my fingers against the palm of my hands then scratching my legs in a peculiar manner to soothe my stress. Totally unable to fall asleep just being asphyxiated with worry with the fear of a panic attack. I don’t want to reveal my social phobia its why i have reluctantly attended this wedding. I am elated at my father finding love in his early 50’s i want him to live a long happy enriching existence the kind of life i will never experience. However the joy is negated by the tsunami of dysphoria and angst that circulating in my impaired consciousness.

I hear the distant echoes of my father his best man his life long friend Stephen getting ready for the wedding. Stephen stayed last night we got drunk together until we decided to retire to our bedrooms around midnight. Last night drinking beer with my daddy and his old friend was a pleasant experience to reconnect with my daddy and a childhood family friends with the euphoria of alcohol. Today though I’m going to be suffocated with a assortment of humans its going to be pure hell a day trapped in purgatory. I gaze intensely at the familiar surroundings of my old room with my single bed childhood bed. This room hasn’t been transformed into a office daddy has preserved it perfectly. Has quiet sentimental character meant he diligently preserved my room as a memento of my childhood. The posters of my favourite bands and literary heroes were decorated throughout my room. Posters of joy division, Kate Bush Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath were plastered over the magnolia painted walls. I stared for hours at these posters with melancholic eyes on this celebration of the scared institution of marriage and love.

Travelling back to my hometown staying in my suburban house spending extensive time with my father hasn’t dissuaded me from my plan to kill myself. The wedding though has delayed the inevitable suicide none of the exaltation of love would persuade me to stay alive i want death I want to end the torture of being a twenty something being afflicted with depression. In my pink silky jimjams with my legs shacking vehemently i am now ready to get out off my old single bed.

With trepidation I remove the black pristine duvet now i sit upright on the edge of my bed. Spending at least half an hour perusing my phone looking at my twitter feed needing a temporary distraction. I watch an array of entertaining videos on YouTube to distract me from the nightmare of attending a wedding. Putting down my distraction device i use as a crutch when I’m trapped in uncomfortable unfamiliar terrifying social scenarios. I stand on my two hind legs and make my bed making sure my bed looks immaculate. This learned fastidious habit is a way of abating the dysmorphia the restlessness of my abnormal personality. Then after several minutes of assiduously making my bed i saunter over to the vacant bathroom to brush my unsightly teeth and wash my pallid face. Before i venture downstairs to eat a paltry breakfast meal if i can handle eating with a million thoughts pulsating round my emaciated body. I brush wearily with my new fangled electric toothbrush. All the while averting my gaze from the dreaded unforgiving bathroom mirror. Then i wash my face by applying a soaked flannel to my face. This act washes away the cobwebs from my mind i feel fully awake before i apply a exfoliant that removes the grease the muck the scum from my visage. I wash again as my face is tingling as its revitalised after another sleepless night. Now i can venture downstairs to confabulate with my daddy and his best man whilst satiating our appetites with toast and coffee.