Last Samhain was a little dismal for me, I tried to meditate to talk to my loved ones and was pushed away-  I tried to welcome in the spirits but none came, I begged the Gods to tell me why my natural affiliation with the dead seemed to have crumbled and faded and the response I received was stark and honest:

“You’ve done death- now it’s time to do life.”

The Gods told me in pretty plain terms that I was closer to the dead than the living, that I was barely alive- that’s not a message that I will ever forget receiving and one that hit me like few things have. I’d been drifting through life without putting down roots, I’d spent all my time preserving things and being ready to die at any moment.

Looking back I see myself as a sort of ghost- it’s really hard and really weird to think of how I used to be, but now I know exactly why the Gods did what they did and I’m grateful.

I’ve spent this last year living- to be honest it got off to a pretty rough start with me trying to find out where I stood in terms of my Go To Guy and my place as the fifth wheel (literally) of my friendship group (according to Jay I win some sort of prize for being a seventh wheel at one point.) But around May time I really started to come out of my shell, I reached a point where I felt confident and good about myself, I began to relax majorly around men and let my life flow as it should.

It was around this time that I got Juliet- WOOOO! And made a decision about what I wanted to do in life (acting ftw :P) I piddled along until June when I went on holiday, survived falling down a mountain, being ferried around in The Hearse and an amazing midnight car journey across the UK.

When I got back and steamed into summer I started wandering around with my friends until the small hours, getting into vintage and starting to become comfortable with sex.

This lead to my first kiss, spending the night with a guy and becoming a strong, independent woman. I got my amazing ADA grades, partied with the best of them (read: EPIC MILK EXPEDITION/’THE QUEST FOR MILK’) and hit the ground running at the start of term.

Since then my life has been taken over with a hell of a lot of R+J and even more snogging (I’m really not complaining) interspersed with partying and general good times of which I totally rocked… I fired my CAMHS nurse and demanded a proper evaluation which I shall be getting in a couple of weeks, I took control of my illness and have decided to consider the idea of formally quitting self harm.

To make a long story short, I have to say that after a rocky start I took the advice given to me by my Gods and started living. I can stand up say that I am a real person, a real flesh and blood person with a life and loved ones and spirit and soul… I am no longed a ghost.

Hope you all had a blessed Samhain and a Happy New Year!

A thousand times goodnight

Wren x

I’ve been putting off saying that for a few days- I’ve been feeling off for about a week or so, but it really kicked in around Sunday and these past few days have been hell. It’s just getting worse and worse and I don’t know what to do.

I’m still waiting for CAMHS to get back to me- it’s been nearly five months. I can’t do this much longer and part of me’s just really scared.

I’m trying to do what I’ve been doing for the past few months, just focussing on the little things- like tonight I got in to find an amazon package with my new CDs and I’ve got a sewing project to be getting on with.

I need some time off and a holiday, I just want to bake and sit in the garden and do simple, pointless stuff instead of having to sit in a classroom and concentrate when all I want to do is yell at the teachers.

I missed my period this month which only happens when I’m seriously stressed or depressed, and it was meant to come around the time when I got back from Italy and I sure as hell wasn’t stressed then *sigh*

For some reason I’m really angry at the moment- like really, really angry. I’m not usually an angry person, I’m actually pretty mellow. It takes a lot to make me angry- but at the moment I’m a total bitch. One of my teachers ignored me when I went to answer something even though I was sat in front of her with my hand raised so I turned my chair away from her and spent the whole lesson reading a book. I didn’t look at her or do the work she asked us to do (to be fair I have an ongoing thing with this teacher anyway so that was just the icing on the cake.)

My appearance is sliding a little- I’m desperately trying to remedy that by dressing more formal and wearing more make-up. I’m sleeping far too much- I usually get about seven hours a night but am now getting around eleven and still feeling shit. I feel like I’m made out of lead at the moment.

To top off all this shit-ness I came in from school, took my shoes off, walked down the hall to the kitchen and managed to walk into the skirting board and break my little toe. And yes, it is broken, I felt it to check and… actually, you don’t want to know what I felt, just trust me when I say it was both incredibly painful and rather grim.

I’ve managed to break pretty much all my toes in the course of my life through doing gymnastics and being generally clumsy, so this isn’t a new thing for me- it’s just really, really annoying.

*Sigh*

I leave you with pretty sunset pictures from the Solstice

’til next time,

Wren x

Yes, it looks ‘amazing’ and ‘really effective’ when they wrap me up in elastic, throw me around the studio and then let go, letting the elastic snap back across my body and the momentum propel me halfway across the room before slamming me face first onto the wooden floor… but it fucking hurts!

And that’s not even taking into account the amount of times we practised it and the amount of times that it went wrong and I fell badly. I look like someone’s kicked the shit out of me, I’ve got a ring of bruises all around my ribcage, covering my arse and hips and my poor little knees.

Got my Romeo and Juliet script- at the moment it’s my light at the end of the tunnel, it’s really the only thing dragging me out of this quagmire. Michael finds it hilarious that I have to kiss Romeo four times- and Paris once. Unfortunately for me the guy playing Paris will be fifteen when we do the play… I feel like a massive paedophile right now- although he is about twice as tall as me.

The performance evening also happened to be the time that everything really fell apart for me. During the day my (lovely) head of year called me into her office for a word- she said that CAMHS had been in touch to say that my psych nurse would have to cancel our appointment on friday (yesterday) and that they would reassign me somebody.

For those of you who haven’t read my previous posts I should just explain that I’m supposed to see someone once a week but haven’t seen my psych nurse since the start of February as she keeps cancelling appointments due to illness. I’ve been at the end of my tether about it all.

I tried to say something but had to take a minute to control myself, I felt so stupid but I could feel tears prickling in my eyes, I was stood there blinking like mad and biting down on my lip before I swallowed and managed to choke out that I hadn’t seen anyone since February, at which point she told me I could and should come and have a chat to her whenever I wanted, and she said that she’d make it clear to CAMHS that they needed to get me someone fast. Even yesterday was too late- I’ve needed help desperately for months and now it’s going to be even longer before they can get me someone.

Later that evening I was sat in the make-shift audience watching another group rehearsing and doing a tech run through whilst the rest of my lot had something to eat in the back room. It got to a part in their piece where they all had to scream- and not a short scream, a proper long scream- anyway, they screamed and it just flipped a switch in my head, I went from sitting there calmly to sobbing hysterically. I got up and slipped out of the studio, thankfully we were in blackout at this point so no-one saw me.

I stumbled down the corridor and sat on some stairs out of the way, I couldn’t stop crying- I don’t know what was wrong with me, I was just sat there with my head in my hands sobbing. It had reminded me so sharply of a nightmare that I had a while ago where I screamed whilst the man raped me, it was the first ever one I’ve had where I screamed, and that alone meant so much.

The screaming wasn’t to try and get help, in the dream my psych nurse and social worker were stood calmly watching him, the scream was a protest, it was saying this is wrong, I don’t deserve this. That was such an incredibly powerful thing for me to think, it’s something that I’ve never recognised before. In all the other dreams I’ve just lain down and let it happen. Both times I was molested in real life I turned into a cold statue, I just did everything that they asked me to do- it’s taken me a long time to even start forgiving myself for that, and it’ll take me an even longer time to trust that I won’t just act that way again should I find myself in that place again.

Eventually someone found me- Megan came to sit with me once I’d calmed myself down and we had a chat, she said that she was so surprised to see me upset because I was always happy and cheerful. We just talked casually about crying and shit and it was really nice that she didn’t pry or fuss, she just normalised the situation.

After a while Miss P came walking down the corridor and sat with me, Megan went off to rehearse, I didn’t really know how she’d react to me being so clearly upset- actually, I think ‘distressed’ is probably a more accurate word- but she was lovely. She said something really sweet to me; she said Wren, it’s what makes you such a good actress- the fact that you empathise so deeply with people, you really get how they must feel. Which made me feel a bit better about blubbing on a staircase- she told me that I should talk to people more and that if I couldn’t do that then I should write it down, because I like writing- so you have her to thank for this post.

I went and performed, it went fine (though there was some hasty improvisation at one point) and Miss P and Miss H let me duck out for the other two groups performances (the other one had a naturalistic rape scene in it which I’d made clear to Miss P that I couldn’t watch.) I spent that time wandering about the empty school sitting in classrooms and listening to someone playing piano in the main hall.

Last night me, Jess and Claire went around to Callum’s shiny new house, we felt a bit out of place walking up the posh driveway and had to text him to let him know we were outside as there wasn’t a doorbell.

We generally had a good night except I drank a bit too much coke- yeah, everyone was off their heads on vodka and beer and I went squiffy on coca cola. It’s because I don’t drink fizzy drinks at all apart from the odd glass of coke/pepsi which I’m fine with, it was because I was really thirsty so I drank loads, which was a bit stupid cos I started hallucinating, I heard an alarm wailing for about fifteen minutes which was very annoying. My friends got all panicky once they realised that I’d been drinking coke and seemed very giggly, they started desperately asking if I was okay- I didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was too late. I don’t know why coke does that to me- I think it’s probably the caffeine content.

Spent this morning driving around the lovely Yorkshire countryside taking out cyclists and yelling at the stupid cu-idiots who come hurtling around blind corners in their stupid 4x4s and force me to swerve into the verge to avoid crashing into them.

At the moment things are on the verge of falling apart, I don’t know how I’m going to do this, I’ll be going into town tomorrow or Monday to take my book back to the library, do some window shopping and stock up on razors and first aid equipment in preparation for the exams. It’s not brilliant but I’m trying to be realistic here.

’til next time,

Wren x

A lot of stuff’s been happening lately in my life and my head- I’ll start with the good news first, I managed to get a front row seat to see Bellowhead in Harrogate in July! Hahaha, I feel so smug and giddy at the thought, it’s going to be utterly amazing.

Now onto the bad news- yeah, there was only one good thing! (But it’s a very good thing, so it kind of outshines the crap.)

I had a horrible nightmare a few nights ago that involved a friend of mine raping me. It was terrifying and incredibly graphic- now every time I think about him I feel sick, I can’t talk to him or look at his posts on Facebook or his name in my contacts list. When I’m with him I feel panicked and like I’m going to vomit- I mean I can literally feel my stomach churning and this lump in my throat.

I can’t be around him anymore, it sounds so stupid and pathetic but anyone who knows me knows that I’ve been suffering from graphic rape and genital mutilation nightmares for about a year now and they really are more than just dreams in terms of the effect they have on me. At the moment all I want to do is get away from him, I don’t want to be near him- we’re supposed to be meeting and going somewhere this Sunday but I can’t face being near him, let alone having to be alone with him.

I don’t know what to do, I’m so scared and angry at the moment, I feel like I can’t breathe.

Today sat in psychology we were working through a worksheet discussing the answers with each other, one of the answers was ‘schizophrenia’ all I could hear for about five minutes was everyone in the room repeating that fucking word over and over and over again. I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t cope- I wanted to scream and get out of there but I couldn’t. I hated it so much, it was like the word was dirty and they wouldn’t stop saying it, they just kept saying it and saying it- I couldn’t breathe at all. I slammed my hand on the table and snapped at one of my friends asking them why they couldn’t stop saying the fucking word over and over- they just stared at me. It felt like everyone in the class was just saying the word over and over directly into my ears, I couldn’t think, it was too fucking loud.

I’ve spent the whole day being snappy and defensive. I don’t want anyone to touch me or anyone to come near me. I want to put my head down and be left alone. I can’t cope with this at the moment and I need support- but I don’t have any. I’m seeing my psych nurse on the 4th of May, which is too late.

I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to do at the moment.

’til next time,

Wren x

I have no strong desire to die, I’m not planning to kill myself or anything like that- I don’t ever feel like self harming.

I just feel kind of lost and bewildered, nothing much makes sense anymore. Yesterday I walked out of the house- just got my bag and coat and book and walked out. I walked all the way into town (which was deserted) all the way around town and then back across the stray (for the non Harrogate people out there ‘the stray’ is a massive stretch of grass with lots of benches) I sat down on a bench and read my book. I stayed there in the freezing cold for two hours, at one point I started crying- openly crying in a public place- because of the inscription on the bench. It said ‘we never lose the ones we truly love, they live in our hearts forever’ and just got to me.

So far I haven’t had a decent cry- the weird bench cry was pretty hastily stopped. I eventually walked home once I’d finished my book, which was good timing as I was shivering pretty violently. On the way home I walked up the main road talking to myself pretty loudly and laughing. I just felt really uncomfortable not talking, like I was holding in a burp or something.

Right now I feel confused and dazed, I’ve been working and working and working- I had last Saturday, the first day of the holidays, off and I haven’t had a day off since. I’m trying to revise but they’ve set so much fucking homework.

I can’t do this, I just can’t do this anymore. I want to put my head in my hands and cry, I feel so fucking defeated. I can’t sleep at night- I can’t think anymore! I just want some time when I can sit and think and just fucking relax- I’m tired and frustrated and I have to keep on going when all I want to do is have a bloody temper tantrum.

I don’t know why this is happening, my life should be so good right now, I’m branching out and meeting new people and doing new things and everything should be so wonderful and it’s not. I can’t get this weight off my chest, I can’t fucking breathe and no-one’s helping me.

Oh god, I feel like I’m drowning sometimes- I just want someone to stand up and be the adult, but it’s too late for that. I’ve gotten this far on my own, I have to keep going.

Life doesn’t feel real at the moment. I feel like I’m dreaming, everything seems hazy and crap and the feeling in the bottom of my stomach just won’t go away. It’s like bitter lead- I’ve been in this place so many times before and I know as well as the next person that no-one’s going to come along and wave a magic wand to make this better. They can’t, as much as they might want to.

I know I have to get through this alone, that all I can do is ride it out- but that doesn’t stop me from wanting that magic remedy.

’til next time,

Wren x

I had a little cry in the shower last night, I’m not sure why… I remember being really relieved that I could actually cry though, so at least that’s something to be happy about.

My mood’s really odd at the moment, I feel all adventurous and relaxed- and yet at the same time I feel really, really stressed.

My exams are coming and it’s slightly terrifying. I’ve done a little revision this afternoon and am tempted to try and do a bit more, I reckon I could get 1/6 of it done in the next few hours if I tried… but should I prioritize that over the essay that needs to be in for Tuesday? I’m really scared about this essay, it’s a philosophy one and I got a D in my last attempt. If I try at this one and still fail then I’m honestly going to cry, I’m trying my best and I just can’t get it.

CAMHS have abandoned me, the proverbial safety net has been removed- if I fall I’m going to break my neck. I’ll be fine, it’ll just bloody hurt.

If the sun’s out where you are then enjoy it

Wren x