Unhinged

i run from embrace and hide from people's warmth because everytime i've had it before it has been stolen from me and i will be left on the floor, broken and bloody. again.

i shut down and keep them out but still silently demand that they see me. i want them to push back when i tell them no and fight me to stay because how else can i be sure that with me is where they want to remain.

We got in the car, and I went to put on my music like I always do, but it felt wrong. I actually searched Spotify for 'songs for when someone is dying' because just putting on my normal playlist felt disrespectful somehow. I did it anyway, though, because I was having a hard time not crying as it was. A funeral playlist wasn't the way to go. The journey was the same though, and we already knew our way to the ward he was on, but the nurse led us past his old room and down the wrong corridor for his new one into the visiting room. It was nearly empty, visiting hours hadn't started yet, we had special circumstances.

My nan was already in there. She looked as if she'd been crying, which I've never really seen before. Once we sat down, they said it. He'd died before we even left the house, half past 8 this morning. I was going to come and visit him before we left for uni tomorrow.

I have only seen my mother cry once ever. Today, she sobbed. I have rarely seen my mother and grandma agree on anything. Today, my nan hugged my mum as she cried into her jacket. Today was a big day of firsts for me, and it's barely noon.

Eventually, we all calmed down. We discussed politics as the news played from the tv on the wall. It's a miracle what death can do. Neither my mother nor grandmother said anything to set off the other. Politics in my family can be polarising, but today, it was just what was on the tv in that horrible room.

Once when I was 6 or 7, I couldn't sleep and my grandad came into my room when he saw the lamp. I don't remember why I brought it up, but I asked him what he thought happened after we died. He said he didn’t believe there was a heaven or hell. No, he thought that it was just end. But he thought that people lived on in the memories of the people who loved them. I've never forgotten that. I remember it so vividly nearly 15 years later. I've always liked that philosophy, and I keep thinking about that today.

I'm going to miss him so much. My grandparents always felt more parental than my real parents. I don't know what I’m going to do when they are both gone. But for now, I'm going to remember how he used to give me sums when I was bored cos I was a weird kid. How he played cards with me for hours at a time. He'd always take me on walks with the dogs and shopping in Ashburton. He'd always let me help him in the garden. And how he'd always pick me up from school every other Friday. He'd be standing there in the playground, and I would run up to him, and he'd hug me so tight even though he was about three times my height. I miss that. The last time I hugged him, he was so frail, and he was hooked to all kinds of different machines. I miss his hugs.

They are four walls around me,

I call them home sometimes but they’re not,

They’re only a sanctuary as a barrier,

A cloak to hide behind,

Nothing saves me here.

I hide here for days, weeks at a time,

Running steadfast towards any distraction,

Any way to leave my self-sentenced prison,

Fulfilling my own prophecy, 

I can’t make myself leave.

But I don’t have anywhere to go regardless,

I don’t have a home to retreat to,

My ‘family’ house is filled with cracks, shards and pointed edges,

My ‘sanctuary’ is a foxhole to be entrench by,

My mind is a minefield of flashbacks and loathing.

So I will hide in my escapes,

Bury myself in stories,

Allow myself to feel only the fictional pain of others,

Because I don’t deserve to mourn my own losses,

I’m not allowed to cry over the things I broke.

I chain myself here as punishment,

Mentally, I have to leave otherwise I’ll shatter,

I know I have to run or I will break, 

But I stay here, trapped, breaking anyway,

Physically stationary, inwardly fleeing with a speed as if being chased.

I know that I’m only running from myself,

Trying to escape my relentless persecutor,

Preventing myself from finding a home,

Because everything just hurts too much,

But I can’t bring myself to do anything else.

Because where else can I go,

There isn’t a tangible place or person for me to run to,

I am too filled with juxtaposition,

I stay here locked behind these four walls,

One day, 

I made a horrible mistake,

I kept living, 

I lost the people I loved the most, 

I kept living, 

My worst fears came true,

I kept living, 

I moved far away, 

I kept living,

I decided to change myself because who I am isn’t good enough, 

I kept living,

I didn't want to be alive but,

I kept living.

Today, 

I bury myself in books and shows and music, 

I keep living,

I don’t talk to anyone most days, 

I keep living,

I do food shopping and washing up and collect mail, 

I keep living, 

I don’t have anyone to lose, 

I keep living,

My family try to convince me not to come home, 

I keep living,

I cry alone in my room,

I keep living.

Tomorrow,

I will wake up and get dressed,

I will keep living,

I will attend lectures and seminars,

I will keep on living,

I don’t know if this is my hope or despair,

But I will keep on living,

Because one day I won’t get to keep on living,

And maybe one day soon it won’t feel like I have to keep on living,