Red

Red the spectacular awe inspiring colours of the sunset
As I gaze at this psychedelic vision on the horizon
Whilst instantaneous getting high on this potent cannabis
Images memories from my past my turbulent tragic adolescence flood into my stoned consciousness

A singular tear forms on my left eye lid
It runs down my face as the dazzling crimson sunset evokes vivid memories of my deceased mum
In this sunset I hallucinate my mums cascade of auburn hair
I imagine her emerald green eyes starting intensely with warmth and boundless love back at me

I see her ethereal face in this majestic red hot picturesque July sunset
Outside my window in my dank flat I’m transported into another time and place
A time of innocence when I wasn’t burdened with sadness with the hell of my adulthood
I can taste my mums lustrous hair her perfect iridescent smile
I imagine having her hug me holding my tear drenched ashen face placed firmly against her bosom

I’m not here in reality lm lost in the realm of fantasy
Lost to the past dreaming of a life where tragedy hadn’t befall my family
I take another hit from my pipe a deep breathe the powerful psychoactive cannabis takes me higher
The sunset beauty brings me joy through the tears as I’m beguiled by the array of polychromatic colours that illuminate the landscape

The End

Not long before I cease existing
I’m close to the end when I will take the decisive step to end my life
I can see the black oblivion of nothingness that will consume my soul
I can see my consciousness evaporating into another realm into the cosmos

The end is nigh when the torture of existing in this wretched body will end
I cant endure the hell of being me anymore
The anxiety the panic attacks the self harm the alienation the self loathing is too onerous to bare
I want death I long for the flickering light of life to be exhumed by the cruel hand of death

I’ve yearned for suicide for years ruminating the most preferable method of death
Surmised that death by hanging is what I deserve to die in excruciating agony
Having my neck asphyxiated by a rope I don’t desire a tranquil painless death I desire the blinding acid pain of death by hanging
I have meticulously planned my suicide making a itinerary of the day the drugs the music the note

Tomorrow I will end my life
I will render my body lifeless through a deleterious action
I want the permanence of death
Wanting the pain to die with me as my body limply languidly hangs from my bedroom door frame killing myself in the exactly same manner as my mum 7 years ago

Harrowing vivid Nightmare

I awake at 3 o’clock in the morning my forehead is soaked in sweat. I’m sitting upright on my single bed breathing heavily. Panting like a frightened dog after experiment a harrowing vivid nightmare that wrecked me with anxiety and distress. For the rest of the night and early mourning i was unable to fall back to sleep. I was sitting upright with my body enveloped in my warm luxurious duvet. Sitting upright shivering shacking back and forth unable to quell the anxiety from this awful evocative dream that my subconscious gave to me.

For days that proceeded this dream that brought to the forefront tragic memories from my adolescence i was rendered almost paralysed with angst and regressed into a acutely melancholic state. I managed to attend my university lectures under great psychological strain managing to hide my agony my deepening depression from my university cohorts. That’s all i did no socialising no getting drunk just retreating into the save enclave of my room where my anxiety dissipated. Days where i could barely muster the energy to venture outside to go shopping to attend lectures. I had to call in sick to my part time employment at the local bookshop dealing with customers for 8 hours was too much for my feeble fragile state. I simply informed my boss i was suffering from a stomach bug bed ridden from this temporary ailment.

I had resolutely concluded to make my newest YouTube video in which expound on my weekly battle with my mental illness on my nightmare. I try diligently to produce these videos on a regular basis but due to the impediments of my depression and social anxiety i put out these videos more sporadically. It had been more than a week since my previous video where i talked at length on suffering a panic attack in public. This attack occurred during a routine appointment at the dentist. The newest video will divulging in great detail my dream the vivid images that haunt my every waking moment.

It was 6:00 pm on a dreary Monday evening i was ready to record my video my weekly therapy session where the camera the audience acted as a surrogate therapist as i delineated my dream. I looked outside of my window the rain was coming down with venom I’m was glad to be inside sheltered from the weather. I closed my curtains making sure my student house was empty. All of my house guest were out living life to the fullest ensuring i was free to opine on my fragile mental state. I prepared my body and mind for the to camera oration i had carefully laid out my attire for this special event. There was a demure black dress and knee high gothic boots I had settled in my mind was appropriate garb to wear for this occasion. On these YouTube videos on my blogging channel I want to present a particular image. A image of a gothic enigmatic young women i want to appear attractive and alluring. Like my hitherto videos i wear a ornate decorated Venetian mask to obscure my hideous face. Yes the audience my measly collection of subscribers can see my gothic attire my dark black hair but I’m too self conscious to reveal my deformed face. On this day i place the ornately mask on my face I’m free whist having this mask to speak lucidly and clearly it doesn’t preclude me from being understood.

Placing the mask on my face look in the bathroom mirror seeing how my black dress hides my petite curves. I love the boots that reach the top of my knees they make me feel like a women being who emits a aura of coolness. Now I’m ready to record my video don’t know how long it will take to broadcast my ordeal to the world. I saunter tentatively to my eccentrically decorated room lock the door now I’m free to talk at length about my dream. My iPad is situated on my desk I’m standing in line with the camera as i will be delivering as per usual standing. When I’m standing i can express my emotions more clearly and show the emotions that have been suppressed since the harrowing nightmare. I press the record sign on the camera giving a 30 second delay as i can be facing the camera without the hassle or rushing back to my spot. I press the record with my trembling hands I’m filled with dread and exhilarated to disclose my anxiety in almost anonymity with a kind audience.

“ Hello viewers listeners new subscribers I’m new dawn fades this is my YouTube channel where I talk about my glaring mental health issues. Yes this is a mask planted firmly on my face. I’m acutely self conscious of my physical appearance especially my face. I suffer from a array of mental condition body dysmorphia depression and social anxiety hence why i like to obscure my unsightly face. Today though I want to talk about a dream/ nightmare i had about a week ago. For the past weeks I’ve been beset with a anxiety fears of occurring another panic attack. I’ve been too afraid to venture outside all steaming from this horrifying nightmare. In this vivid nightmare where I experienced a series of evocative dreams. I don’t want to bore you with every particular dream which I can recall. The last dream though which rendered me blighted with anxiety unable to sleep i want to talk about. The dream started I entered a room i walk through a immaculate white door entering with trepidation a room that seems so familiar. Theres a binding white light in this room then the light disappears revealing a white room with a white bed that evokes childhood memories. Theres somebody sitting with long flowing auburn hair delicately crumbing her hair next to a dressing table. She turns around its my mum who killed her self 5 years ago. She’s noticed be calls my name standing with majestic green eyes and fiery Irish red hair beckoning me over. I start to cry a profusion of tears as I hesitantly walk towards my mum seeing her face in this powerful dream. I for some unknown reason look at the ground i see a bed of roses that covers the entire floor it doesn’t hurt as my naked feet walk over these roses to embrace my mum. I reach my mums who face and body illuminates the room she’s looking resplendent. We embarked no words are exchanged its a deafening silence my mum with tenderness lays a passionate kiss on my left cheek. Then she hugs me i collapse into her arms. I’m crying uncontrollable with rivers of pent up sadness being purged from my eyes. My mum sheds a singular tear that tickles down her face. This lasts in this memory evoking dream for minutes or hours I have no concept of time in my deep subconscious state. Then i look at my mums iridescent face and she’s gone as her body is replaced by chards of broken glass that lacerate my body my face. I’m rendered distraught collapse to the floor with blood flowing from my wounds cry until i awoke from this harrowing short nightmare. I think about my mums constantly think about her suicide miss her everyday she never is absent from my thoughts but that dream has engendered the trauma of her death to the forefront of my mind. You don’t have to be a trained psychologist to realise this literal dream means i profoundly miss my mum. Seeing it though having a desire to talk to hug my mum one last time actualised then have her be vanquished away leaving physically and emotionally scared was horrifying. Sorry to speak for so long and to cry in these videos i try to make them more succinct and less emotional. So goodbye hope you enjoyed me recounting my nightmare if you like this video send me a like and subscribe to my channel.”

I Miss You Mum

6 years this week you killed yourself
It hurts like acid burning a hole in my stomach
I miss you think about you everyday
Miss your hugs your effusive hugs you bestowed upon me

I miss you mum i cry when I hear your funeral song
I shed a profusion of tears when I gaze at photographs of you on my phone
I yearn for one last chance one last moment to bask in the iridescence of your external love

Still can recall seeing your haunted eyes as you hung from the ceiling
That image is tattooed on my ravaged mind
The wounds of losing you so prematurely and tragedy will never heal
I will never recover from losing you from suicide the hole in my soul can never be filled

Mum i need you in the mire the moil of my depression
I call out for you in the starry night as i survey the majestic awe inspiring cosmos i think about the memories we shared
I mediate on the future memories that was denied by from your egregious decision to end your life to abandon your daughter in the turmoil of her anxiety laden adolescence

The Darkest Day Part 3

After the priest powerful emotional soaring eulogy in which we rendered the funeral congregation to tears. My mums best friend since childhood Dorothy again delivered a funny poignant elocution filled with humorous anecdotes and lamenting the tragic untimely passing of her best friend. Then my father got up tentatively to recite a poem which encapsulated the despair he was feeling. To speak in front of a large audience was anathema to him. He was a shy reserved man who eschewed public displays of affection hence with great reluctance he acquiesced to the demands of his family myself and friends of my mum to deliver a poem before offering a few words on the loss. The priest beckoned him on to the pulpit as he sauntered languidly with his haunched downcast posture. I tried diligently to contain myself to maintain my austere persona. My father finally reached the pulpit where he began to speak in his characteristically quiet somber voice that displayed little to no emotion.

He spoke at the pulpit with his hands visibly shacking “ this is the hardest thing i ever done on the second worst day of my life. The worst day was when me and my lovely daughter discovered corrinas body hanging from the door frame in our living room. Before i recite my favourite poem in which i will be paying homage to the love of my life. I want to say a few words about losing corrina what she meant to me. I loved corrina i miss so much she brought such colour vitality into my life. I’m a quiet shy man but corrina brought me out of my shell and exposed to a life of endless possibilities. We shared almost 20 years of uninterrupted happiness and now its gone I’ll never again wake up to that divine women. Now have her hold my hand feel the warm embrace of her body. I cant believe i didn’t foresee the obvious signs of her depression”

Then for the first time in my 13 years i saw my dad shed a tear he began to whimper. He wiped a tear from his grief stricken face then blow his nose before composing himself to recite a poem i was left diminished by Paul Curtis

I was left diminished

When your light went out

It left a shadow on my soul

And my heart was left

As an empty vessel

By your absence

You now walk

In heavens light

Surrounded by Gods love

With angels song

On the scented air

As I sit cold and alone

In the home we shared

A place full of memories

Where once I felt so at home

Now I wish to be there no more

Reminded every waking moment

Of my cruel loss

So I sit alone and crave

The moment of my own passing

So our souls will be reunited

And we can be together once more

After he eloquently delivered this profound piece of prose he calmly walked from the pulpit to the front row to sit beside me. I managed somehow in my shell shocked paralysed mind to not break the ice and break open the dam. My father like myself was stoic and austere despite his powerful candid words. Then the funeral carried on with a series of musical numbers playing that interspersed the sorrowful speeches. Firstly dreams by the cranberries the song that played at my mum and dads wedding their first dance played after the priest uttered his eulogy. Then after my dads heartbreaking poetic recital my mums favourite musical composition Elgar cello concerto played by the eminent cellist Jacqueline du pre. I heard the powerful rendition of Elgar cello concerto reverberate inside the cavernous walls of this vast church. Every note felt like chards of glass in my ravaged soul. My hands shacked my lips quivered i put my ashen face to the floor to obscure the trauma that was denoted on my face. No tears just a pure vision of sadness that was on my face. Then finally the ordeal was over the main ceremony was over the music concluded as we would now witness the hell of seeing my mums casket being lowered into the ground.

The designated pall bearers went outside to the hearse which was situated in close proximity to my mums gravesite. They walked in unison all adorned in black funeral attire and grabbed a hold of my mums funeral casket as the mourners had now congregated to the gravesite to witness the sacred burial of my mum. As the pall bearers where straining to carry the casket the priest was waiting to deliver his final remarks before my mums body would be laid to rest. I was stood adjacent to my father we locked arms as the wooden bespoke casket was lowered into the ground. No burning of my mums body a sacred burial in accordance with my mums wishes that was delineated in her verbosely worded suicide note. I stared intensly at the casket unable to process my grief i was still in a state of shock. Wanting to veil my pain not able to exhibit a emotion as I witnessed flowers that adorned my mums casket. Then the priest made his final remarks i couldn’t hear his words sounds came out of his mouth my body was faint i felt the colour drain away. I saw in my fractured mental state a black and white vision as the priest spoke i wasnt fully present. I looked around and saw an array of despondent faces. Tears and bloodshot eyes whilst I felt like a ghost feeling this sickness lurking inside of me wanting to be released. However in my emotionally repressed personality i was constitutionally unable to display a modicum of sadness. Mouths moved words were said i heard nothing my mind lost concentration i thought of vivid images of my mum holding me hugging me kissing me goodnight.

I came back from my daydream of my idyllic childhood that was lost forever to see the religious ceremony commemorating a life of my mum had concluded. It was over the hell now i had life the rest of my life my tumultuous adolescence without my mums guidance. The attendees retreated back to our suburban respectable home for the absurdity of a post funeral party. I wanting nothing more than to retreat into the isolation of my room.

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

The Darkest Day Part 2

After a eternity as me and my grieving stoic father sat languidly in the funeral car directly behind the hearse containing my mothers decaying corpse. Then the rest of the funeral attendees got inside their respective vehicles and we could proceed to the church. It was a long arduous journey as we travelled at a agonising snaillike pace. My father and i sat in complete silence never uttering a single word to each other. I just sat with my haunted eyes observing the grim bleak landscape of my hometown on a drab soggy October morning. I looked at the heavens no sign of sun just a skyline covered entirely with bleak grey clouds threatening to erupt in a torrential downpour at any moment. For now though as we traversed to the church the rain ceased falling. My eyes were fixed on the road not wanting to look into the abyss of sadness that was my fathers despairing eyes.

I could see the church appearing on the road ahead. Dread and anxiety permeated my entire body i tried diligently to hold back the tears not show the world my father my family my mums friends the depths of my pain. My empty stomach rumbled i felt faint as if I could collapse or throw up at any moment. The colour drained from my face my hands were shacking i tried to maintain a control of my body despite the horrific reality of witnessing my mums funeral at the tender age of 13. My didn’t seem to notice my mini anxiety attack or a feeling of nausea i managed to conceal that from him. He was too lost in the darkness of his tortured mind living in his head pretending to camouflage his emotions by maintain a austere veneer.

He pulled up outside the church the hearse was their my mums body inside the funeral car. I looked at it intensely as the cavalcade of funeral mourners descended on the church to attend a forlorn religious ceremony. Again i felt overcome with a weakness i gritted my teeth bit my lip to hold back the waterfall of emotion that wanted to be get out. However i was a stereotypical middle class repressed english girl who was constitutionally unable to disclose my pain. Like my father and mum I concealed my emotional torment in the recesses of my fractured psyche.

Then it began the designated pallbearers we’re ready to carry my mums funeral casket into the church I looked at the casket with horror then i was told kindly by my father to go inside the church and sit in the front row. I walked inside this cavernous majestic church in my black gothic dress feeling so vulnerable. My lips quivered as i sauntered inside not knowing what to do with my body or how appropriately conduct myself. I perceived all these eyes on me judging my comportment on this dreadful occasion. Finally I reached my destination on the front row with my Irish grandparents from my mums side and my mums sister for company. Then i heard the sound of the pallbearers including my father struggling to carry my mums cumbersome casket. They huffed and puffed carry it under great strain but eventually were successful in carrying the casket onto the altar situated behind the priest. My father sat next to me as this scared solemn ceremony began. The priest gave a eloquent impassioned eulogy paying homage to my mum a charismatic affable extrovert who died so a tragically at the tender age of 39. He lamented her passing in his opening remarks as the fellow mourners were brought to tears with his kind words.

The priest said “Receive the Lord’s blessing. The Lord bless you and watch over you. The Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you. The Lord look kindly on you and give you peace; In the Name of the Father, and of the Son + and of the Holy Spirit.”Congregation: ” Amen.”

Then he delivered his poignant remarks that moved the majority of the congregation to tears apart from me who was paralysed with shock throughout the duration of this ceremony.

The priest said “. We are gathered here today to pay homage to the live of corrina wood who died tragically at the age of 39. She died unexpectedly in her home. Corrina was a warm affable women who brought colour and light into the lives of anybody she became acquainted with. She is survived by a loving respectable husband and a loving daughter. He cannot hide or deny the tragedy of her death to die so young not in her sleep or from a terminal illness but from self inflicted death. We must not resort to anger at her desperate decision to end her life. We cannot be laden with guilt at not recognising the signs of her internal pain. We must honour her life cherish the happy memories of a well lived enrich life. Friends and family of corrina must not let her memory fade away always carry her indelible memories in her hearts. I as a priest do not blame castigate corrina for her decision to end her life i feel a weight of immense sadness at losing a fellow parishioner. We have to remember all the joy the love she bestowed upon all of us. We must see the death of corrina as a example that life is finite precarious and precious. It will be over sooner than we think that whilst we are alive we must be diligent in savouring the luscious fruits of life and taking time to smell the roses. Yes today and the coming weeks months we will mourn the lamentable passing of corrina but never forget her memory the iridescent light she shone her devotion to her family. Her assiduous commitment to help the poor through her tireless charity work and her passion for music. Their are countless stories I’ve heard of past students that corrina vehement love of classical music impacted their life. I’ve heard anecdotes from family members of her infinite love impacted their life. I conclude this initial eulogy in never forget corrina whether you’re a lifelong friend or a dotting husband or loving daughter or a distant relative”

He concluded his impassioned unrestrained emotional charged erudite eulogy I looked around and saw a sea of teary eyed mourners. Whilst I wanted desperately to unleash my grief but remained a austere demure demeanour holding back the tears. My father like myself kept his lip stiff never breaking the stoic persona. I was paralysed with shock unable to adequately process the grief feeling almost catatonic. Wanting to escape the hell of witnessing my mothers funeral at the tender fragile age of 13…….