Going for a swim part 2

Okay so this is part two of this story and it's still lacking an ending but again I'd rather get it out there than leave on the computer. In this part we move on from the question of suicide to how people react to depression and in this case we meet her partner who has been worried since she disappeared.
Part 2

She looked at her feet.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He shuffled his feet and turned away from the lake.
“No I’m sorry.” She turned to him. “I was just...”
He stopped mid step and turned back.
She looked back to the lake. “I was just thinking about going for a swim.” She smiled. “It looks so peaceful...”
“And cold. Brrr. You’d freeze in there this time of year.”
That was the point she thought. “Maybe.”
“No maybe. It’s sodding cold most of the year, but right now it’s... brrr.” He shivered.
She watched his face. Not a clue, good just as well. “Yeah well I decided not too.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not real good at rescuing people.” He frowned, as if he wasn’t sure if she had decided.
“So what are you doing up here? It’s a long way from anywhere.”
He sighed. “Needed a walk, bit of peace and quiet; this seemed like the perfect place.” He shrugged.
“Yeah and then here I was to spoil it of you.” She turned away from the water and motioned forward with her arm.
He started to walk with her.
“Spoil it? No, bit of a surprise though. Not many people come up this time of day. A few dog walkers, maybe a guy with a camera, but that’s all.”
“Well I can see why.”
She stared as a running man came into sight. “An occasional runner too, huh!”
The man smiled. “Not so much. This place has quite a reputation, not welcoming for people.”
She followed the runner with her eyes. “Really?”
“Yes, a few years ago the police were all over this place looking for burial sites.” He looked down. “Some local man killed a few people and buried then out here. Never really got why he killed them but having found severn graves, people have kept away.”
“Whoa...!”
“The sad part is that they think there may be some others out here somewhere but the guy isn’t talking. Only admitted to two of the seven as it happens, the police just found the others while they were looking for them.” He sighed.
She looked at him now, his face taught and strained. “Someone you knew?”
“Humm?” His eyebrow rose.
She waited.
“Not really.”
The runner had speeded up and was heading straight for them.
Not long now she thought. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah me too.”
“Cora, blimey,” the runner panted, “I wondered where you’d got to?”
She pulled a tight smile. “Sorry I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed to get away.”
“Hi”
“Hello.” The man watched as the runner caught his breath. “Life goes on.”
She sighed. How many times had she not wanted it to? One moment it seemed like the end and then something happened and her attention was drawn somewhere else and then life was continuing and she hadn’t even realised that it had moved on.”Yes it does, it’s just a shame it isn’t a bit easier on us.”
He smiled.
The runner watched her closely. “Damn shame.” He paused and looked at her companion. He looked back at her. “Feeling any better?”
“Little bit.”
“I should get on. It was nice to meet you.” He stepped away.

“Yes you too.” She watched him take a few steps then turned to the runner. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed some peace.”
He squeezed her arm. “It’s okay, but next time, please tell me you’re going. I was looking everywhere. And why here? Of all the places you could go why here?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think there’d be anyone here.”
He blinked. “No, not really populated out here is it? but then what would have happened if you’d gotten into trouble?”
She sighed and started to walk. “Well I didn’t, did I?”
“Not really the point.”
“Oh give it a rest Nev, I’m alright, no harm no foul.
The man stopped walking. “You really don’t get it do you? God we love you, we’d miss you and when you disappear it’s like it’s already happened. Like you’ve already gone and we’ll never get you back. I daren’t leave you alone because it might be the last time I ever see you and I can’t stand that. I can’t stand to think of it being the last time.”
She stopped walking. “And yet strangely you never seem to be with me when you are here. You’re with someone, but it’s not me, I don’t recognise her. You treat her like a child that needs to be looked after, like this week end was what I wanted. All the people, all the old memories...everything was what I wanted. Well it wasn’t, it wasn’t what I wanted at all.”
“I don’t treat you like a child.”
“Yes you do. Look at you coming out here, making this trip and you made such a big deal about doing this for me, organising it with them and yet you never asked me if it was what I wanted.”
“There you’re family.”
“Right so of course I want them running my life. Listening to endless reasons why I should be happy, why it was for the best, doing everything for me and then complaining that I never get off my backside. Yes of course that’s exactly what I want. God why can’t you see that all I need is sometime to feel shit for a bit. To work things out for myself and God help me spend some time alone with you so we can talk.”
Nev stopped walking. “We do nothing but.”
“Oh yes of course you do. But what about me, since when I have I had anything to say that you’ve cared to listen to. You’re all about telling me what to do, how to feel better but not once have actually sat and talked about how I feel, about how you feel? You’ve just run around like nothing has changed, like you’re still happy and everything is right with your world. Jesus you gave my feelings all of three seconds for me to feel better and then started telling me how to be happy. What to do to achieve it. God just give it a break, it’s takes time.”

Going for a swim

Okay so it's been a while and although I've had lots of ideas I haven't really gotten down to the nitty gritty of actaully writing, big suprise! My excuse, life has kind of been getting in the way...terrible I know, so here's my latest offering. It will eventually be longer than this, however I thought I'd get this part out of the way as I've actually written it.... oh dear the story of my life at the moment, anyway to the story.
Going for a swim brought about in part from past experiences and conversations with friends, the idea was to explore peoples darkest moments, and how they can change from despair. Cheery huh!  Oh well never mind...

Going for a swim

The woman was sat on the end of the wooden pier looking out at the inky black water that stretched away in front of her. The wildlife glided through the mist silently. She didn’t move, didn’t blink as the swans passed within inches of her. She just sat her face blank, slack, her eyes sunken as the water lapped on the uprights beneath her.

Her face rippling slightly in front of her she wondered what it would be like to dive in, to swim away from here. The water would be cold, it would make her heart pound, push the blood through her veins and warm the chills she felt. Maybe she could swim out and just keep going, let the water take her away from here. The cold would suffuse her skin and numb her from her extremities first, then push further through her. Would it penetrate deep enough to remove the pain? Would it take her away from here and give her the peace she was looking for? Let her slip away beneath it’s surface.

The wamp, wamp, wamp of wings flapping hard, followed by the sound of splashing brought her head up and her eyes fixed on the swans as they tousled and flapped in dispute in front of her. She blinked and tears rolled from her eyes and she looked down. Her mouth flickered in movement and then settled back.

No that was how it would be. The cold water would hit her warm innards and it would fight, it would gasp for breath despite her, it would fight so hard that warmth would return to her limbs and she would swim again. She repositioned her arms in her lap and let the tears fall. Why could she not give up, why would her body not let her die?

She did not hear the footsteps on the wood, nor the creaks or movement of the boards under her as the man approached. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She shuddered and caught her breath.

“Sorry. I...” he trailed off.

She half smiled and then returned her gaze to the water.

“I can’t resist coming here when it’s like this. It’s just so peaceful, no one around.”

She looked up at him; half smiled and then turned back to the lake. The inky water was not moving but as she looked out the reflection of the cloudy sky and then snowy peaks of the hills behind drew her attention. The sun was so low in the sky that the light was still pink and golden from sunrise. Yes it was beautiful here.

“It’s great place to contemplate the world.” He smiled.

Yes contemplation, isn’t that why she had come to do, to contemplate things.

“Brrr... it’s pretty cold to be sitting down though. I’m surprised you aren’t frozen.” He stamped his feet. “Penny for them?”

She looked up.

His weathered face, looked down at her, his gaze steady.

She looked back to the water and then to the swans, now calm and serene, and didn’t know what to say.

Performance Anxiety

I think most poeple worry a little bit about whether they will be able to do what they are seeting out to, for some it's much worse and their fears can become so overwhelming that they don't even try; convinced that it won't matter they will always fail. This poem was trying to capture what might promote this from the inside.

The laughter ringing in my ears
the jeers and insults flowing
Oh come on, that’s awful, you didn’t even try
why ever did you think that good?

My heart explodes with pain
I’m embarrassed, disappointed and ashamed
no matter how hard I’ve tried
the hope that spurred me on now dashed
battered and obliterated
the pieces, shards of glass,
unseen and yet embedded, a rash of painful splinters
why ever did I think I’d been good?

So desolate and lost, there’s nothing to be done
no sitting still accepted, I’m not allowed to stop
yet all the while I fail
why ever do I bother?

So to the next what shall I do, however shall I choose
my head it rants and rages so and all before I’ve started
a torrent of past anguish, resentment and despair
life without fulfilment where I’m never any good
why ever do I care?

Big brother and I!

I think many of us feel we've been overshadowed by others, whether the elder brother, the baby sister, the sucessful cousin... or whoever it may have been. What is said shapes how we think others see ourselves and ultimately to how we see ourselves. Often this can be good however not always. I remember from my childhood that I was always compared to someone else, or to something else and so I wrote this as a comparison between  a brother and sister. The intention was to show what she saw and heard rather than tell.

My Big Brother
I was good at maths, but he was ace at science
I enjoyed my art but he was fantastic at sport
I kept to myself but he had lots of friends
he had such energy while I got tired too quick
he was neat and smart and sophisticated, I was just a scruff that tried hard
he did things that they enjoyed, thought good and admired
I did things that scared them
he was talented and driven, achieved so much so fast,
I just plodded on
he bought a house at 23, while I still studied hard
he married and divorced before I even settled down
he borrowed fast, paid back slow and I just made my own
he played fast and loose, while I worked hard
he lied to all and I was honest to a fault
he exceeded all their wildest dreams and I did as expected
he was the apple of their eyes and I was just a girl.

The Nature of obsession

It's been a while and strangely I have been writing but nothing seems to have come up to snuff. This time I have a collection from a competition I entered at Slough Writers group. Three short poems about obsession. The idea for each was to voice a way of looking at obsession rather than a particular obsession and try to promote the feelings of the person suffering from it. Each poem has a different take, the first Road to recovery was a simple look at how you could become obsessed, what happens when it takes over and then once it's under control how they lived with it knowing what has been.

Road to Recovery
Unseen the loss of will
it hides within the ritual
I’m willingly enslaved
 
My life is full of patterns,
they encroach upon my happiness
I can’t continue as I am

A slow and painful process
I despair of being free
will always watch myself

This the second,
Bondage
Another knot, another loop, pull it tight
to feel secure, held, protected
the rope is my comfort.

It tugs as I move, my body aches,
restricted, my soul it weeps
that I so bound myself

I struggle to unravel it, to untie myself
to reach the knots that bind
I beg for release

Another knot, another loop, pull it free
I breathe easier, slowly emerging
the marks of bondage remain

drew on the reason why someone might become obsessed and what the obsession might do for them both good and bad and was aimed from the child growing up and how once they have become entrenched in what they were doing to survive found they were the one that was suffering and the pains it took to start the journey to be free of it.

Okay Number 3 is different again and is more of an adult outlook where someone has already recognised their obsession and is desperately trying to free themselves from the outset. It was trying to look at the way that although we may wish to be rid of our behaviours we can miss what we're doing and end up in the same position as if we hadn't even tried and frustrated that we lack the insight to achieve our freedom.


A life of vicious circles

Down a road you have not travelled
the end is still unseen
the people and the places change
the feelings stay the same.


It ends upon that same crossroads;
a place of torment and despair.
you whip around and see your path
more clearly seen from here.


You see the choices that you made
and how they brought here
you see the veil that you pulled
but not the reason why

I'm not really sure any of them really worked. The line count was very restrictive so I might have another go at them and make them longer.

You won’t be sad forever.

I guess from my point of view it’s good to remember this and so very often I forget it. I feel so very much encased in the moment that the rest of my life feels as if it’s always been and will be the same. It won’t of course but it can feel that way. I guess I’m not alone in bouncing from one end of the scale to the other, nor in not understanding why but it seems that many people do not.

The void within so pressurised

it throbs and aches
indistinct and everywhere
intangible the cause
enveloped in the mist,
a sensory deprivation, it confuses
indecision is the norm
so desolate without hope
ever present and forever more
 

The smiles come back

they flick and flash upon your face
without reason or endeavour
unbidden they arrive
caught unawares you laugh
relaxing never knowing how
to err or doubt is absent
once defeated, now invincible
as always and forever more

Wild sea winds

So yet another poem... you must be thinking that the book has died a death. Well no it hasn't but I feel it's in need of  bit of reworking so have taken some time to write a few poems instead while it gets a brush up.

Last week-end we went down to the coast. It was bright sunny day lovely and hot and absolutely gorgeous is so many ways. Then we stepped out of the car and found that it had hidden us from the wind and despite the lovely sun it was still rather cold for shorts. This is a short piece about being on the coast a place I love because of the moods the sea can have.

Wild sea winds

Eyes staring out to sea

a brisk wind freezing the face
greyed cotton wool clouds
hang low buffeted by the sea
waves of growling frustrated toddlers.

Crashing into the beach
their white crests, peaks of wrath
pounding the pebbles
inching closer to me

Turning, I walk on

the going is slow
stones sliding underfoot
my steps deliberate, meaningful