Sunday 18 September 2011

Cruel memories

Ten years ago, I'd completed my first day at Uni. I was in love with studying, in love with Liverpool. I felt as free as a bird.

I had four years of hard work ahead of me, I had no money, I'd given up my job and my wage and my home. I had no partner, no property, nothing but the prospect of doing what I'd dreamed for years of doing: being a student, graduating. I was scared shitless and deliriously happy.

I was surrounded by books and reading lists and syllabuses. I didn't know where the petrol station was, the supermarket or even a decent pub. I had no friends, no contacts, and an address I couldn't pronounce.

Today, I have a job I love but can't do. I have friends I can't get to and an address I never get to leave. My world has shrunk from infinite to miniscule. I'm trapped inside a broken body that no-one knows how to fix, and that I can never escape.

Back then I was looking forward to going alone to a foreign country with a foreign language and building a life for myself. Now, I can't even go to the supermarket by myself. I can't cook or clean for myself, I can't wash my hair change my clothes. I can't study or write essays, because I can't sit up for long enough. I can't even get to a lecture, never mind sit through it.

Ten years ago, it felt like my life was just beginning. Now it's over. Worse than that, it's mocking me, tauting me with all the things I used to do, used to be.

I wish I could just do it tonight, right now. Get the knife, two quick slashes and be done. Pills for good measure. I don't want to live like this shadow of who I was. It took me 30 years to be who I wanted to be. I won't live another 30 looking back on who I was. It's the ultimate cruelty to show someone what they could be, then steal it away, to let them watch everyone else grow into themselves.

My heart hurts and my soul hurts and I want to die. Tonight. I just want to be dead.

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