This is part of an autobiographical series. For more information and a list of instalments so far, see right.
‘I don’t want to live,’ I said to Cass as we crossed the muddy field behind the house. ‘I just want to die and rejoin Frog.’
‘Would you do anything about it?’ she asked.
‘No,’ I replied.
How could I, after everything my siblings had done for me?
Since Jo’s visit, they’d taken it in turns to stay, never leaving me alone for more than two days at a time.
I clung to them because my default position was panic. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t function on the practical level – even turning a tap off could be too much. I would come down in the morning and find doors and windows still open.
Every part of me was on full alert, dedicated to one task only – surviving.
Whatever that meant.
‘Would you do anything about it?’ she asked.
‘No,’ I replied.
How could I, after everything my siblings had done for me?
Since Jo’s visit, they’d taken it in turns to stay, never leaving me alone for more than two days at a time.
I clung to them because my default position was panic. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t function on the practical level – even turning a tap off could be too much. I would come down in the morning and find doors and windows still open.
Every part of me was on full alert, dedicated to one task only – surviving.
Whatever that meant.
To be continued
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