Dear my nameless, faceless Ba

Dear my nameless, faceless Ba,

Can you hear me?

I haven’t spoken to you, or written, in a year. Life feels hard again. What is it about this time of year?

I wish I had known you, your name, your face. In my mind you’re stood still, your sari is catching the breeze. The hem of your skirt licks the dust as you turn away.

I wonder if you’re proud of me. Of my siblings, my cousins, my aunt, my father? What would you make of us? What would you think of this mess we made?

You seem to hold part of that missing piece for me. I’m not sure which piece it is.

I often speak to you, I’ve no idea if you hear me. But it feels good. It feels good to look up into that enormous sky flecked with starlings and I wonder if you once looked up at the same piece of sky when you walked this earth.

– Saffron

Another Autumn

Another Autumn and another new city. This time it’s with with Xavier and it feels… hard.

I’ve been quiet for a long time, almost a whole year: new jobs, new homes and new expectations have rolled by. The leaves are turning already and the sun is dipping lower every evening. I have that gentle autumn feeling again, it feels glowy and warm, but as ominous as it always feels for me.

This autumn I’m carrying Xavier (and myself). So although it feels heavier, it’s a different kind of weight. My partner’s baggage isn’t just heavy, it’s slippery, impossible to cling onto. One moment I think I have it firmly on my shoulders and the next it’s slipped down my back and it’s slithering away from me. It’s taken Xiaver a long time to recognise he has a problem, but the problem has a habit of slipping right back into place.

So, I’m going to watch the leaves change, as I do every year, and as they drop I will think of Saffron. The Saffron that wandered amongst the changing trees and wrote these entries 3 years ago never believed I would get here. If Saffron could outstand the hurricane that forced its way through her, then I surely can carry this weight.

– Saffron

Soaking up sadness

I’ve been doing really well recently, hence the lack of posts from Saffron. This autumn is different. I’ve been working hard to break the cycle of sadness I usually find myself in- especially now that I’m jobless and study-less. Looking for a job has turned into a full-time job itself. I’m building routines and rythyms to help keep my head above water. And, overall, it’s working. It’s actually working. I feel lighter, my sides feel sewn together and everything feels brighter.

But, obviously nothing is fool proof, and I’m only human. My efforts aren’t totally air tight. I find that the slimy and twisted roots that push themselves into the recesses of my family are harder to avoid. When Dad brought home his depression tonight and let those slimy roots slither out into the open air, my sides started to open again. It’s difficult not to absorb the guilt, or the sadness, or the fury- whichever one Dad invites home- because it’s Dad.

– Saffron

Another autumn

So I’ve passed the biggest milestone I’ve set myself. The Master’s is finished and I’m moved back home. So what now? Literally, what now?

I’m sitting in the park as I write, as I always do this time of year. The leaves are changing from green to gold, as they always do, and the air is turning cool, as it always does. And like last year, I feel myself filling with excitement. The unknown that lies ahead isn’t quite as terrifying as I thought it might be. I’m feeling daring. I want to keep pushing myself.

The dark figure hasn’t shown himself for a while. His long lanky limbs and blurred face don’t hover behind me as they used to. He doesn’t sit quietly in my bedroom waiting for me to wake. And I think I may even be missing him.

I can feel the pull back to the city and I’m sure I’ll be commuting again, and life will speed up as it always does. But for now, I want to enjoy the changing colours of the leaves and the warm afternoon sun before autumn gives way to the cold and damp of winter.

April

I haven’t had a dark thought in months. Sometimes I wonder whether the dark figure is lonely without my darkness. At the moment I spend my days reading and writing; Derrida, Foucault and Bourdieu. It’s almost cliché.

I think the running has really helped. There is something inherently mine about it. I run by the river where the pink morning sky hangs behind the April blossom. I often think back to my teens, when I’d climb the hill to the cemetery at home, swing my legs on the bench and let the tears roll down my cheeks, wishing them to empty me of my emptiness.

For now I can’t seem to cry. No matter how much I want to. I can’t seem to indulge myself in my darkness the way I could.

I’m sure there’s a story in here somewhere, but it doesn’t quite feel ready yet.

– Saffron

Bringing back Saffron

I’ve not given Saffron much time lately. I’ve been enjoying temporarily living without her, pretending to just be me, stripped of all the nonsense. But I know that I can neither push Saffron away, nor ignore the nonsense forever…

I’ve managed to find safe places and ways of keeping the dark figure at bay. Quiet corners of the huge university library; drifting slowly beside the river to the sound of the rain; forty minutes on the treadmill; talking with friends for hours. The dark figure does still visit when it’s dark and I’m lonely, but he doesn’t linger as he used to. 

I have a lot of love to give to Xavier, which gives me a lot of strength. Looking to our future is something that keeps me pushing through. But this coming year, I want to be able to focus on the present. I want to savour it and enjoy it as if it were the last moment I have. Rather than instinctively wanting to run from it.

– Saffron

Wishing everyone a peaceful new year. 

– Me

Thanks to my therapist

I had my final session with my therapist today.  The most consistent thing about these last two years has been seeing T every Thursday. So unsurprisingly, I’m feeling sad.

It was a strange feeling, walking up to that big black door today. I thought about how it felt the first time I pressed that buzzer. Everything was impossibly dark and heavy then. Even my own limbs felt heavy. But today, I felt clear and light. Sad, but light.

T did more than just help me find my light. She showed me I could conquer my own mountains, I can brighten the darkness and I can find strength in the lowest of places. And all she did was hear me.

I felt like a ghost when we first started our sessions. I felt translucent: like I was watching us from a distance or from deep inside myself. After a while it was the only place in the world where I felt solid. Between those four walls, with the soft beige furnishings and the candles on the mantle piece, was a safe zone.

And now I feel strong, I feel joy, I feel optimism. I feel myself, solidly and completely myself. Without the translucency or the ghostliness. I feel whole. For that, I am forever grateful.

– Saffron

Change #1

So this is it. These few years are coming to a swift end. This week will be as chaotic as any other, and next week I will have closed this chapter.

When I started this journey I was splitting at the seams. Sometimes I still do. But I found solace in these train tracks. I found solace in the dark mornings, when the mist hung over the hills. I didn’t give up in the face of my darkness. I pushed on until the light broke through. So now, this commute, and the journey I found in it, feels more than just a route to work. It’s something closer to home. I found my strength in this journey.

I’m sure the next chapter holds another journey, all too similar.

– Saffron

Taste your smile

I haven’t seen Rob in a while, and the fantasy is flickering on and off. Especially in anticipation for my commute to stop.

My mind instead is flickering back to Xavier, who I have been seeing a lot recently. It’s a different kind of flickering, because Xavier is real, and we have a tangible relationship. I don’t want to taste his smile, because I’ve already felt it. I’m sure of him, I’m used to him, he’s stable.

I’m spending a lot of time out after work. Summer evenings in bars, south of the river, racing past red lights. I want to live in the now before it’s gone. I want to feel alive as I did when I slipped out of the darkness and back into the light last year. 

– Saffron

Change coming

I’ve handed in my resignation at work and my plans to start studying again in the autumn are feeling vividly real now. My last day is in just a few weeks and I’ve not got long before I stop my heavy commute and busy schedule.

I’m also really nervous about not seeing Rob anymore. The relationship is based solely on meeting on the train. It doesn’t exist outside of the train. And so, with the end of my job in London, so comes the end of my journey with Rob. Literally.

And though Rob isn’t real- other than being a real man for whom I’ve fabricated a name, life, job, hobbies for- the loss feels as real as the ground beneath my feet. I don’t want to count the days I have left on the train, because I don’t want to confront the fact that change is coming.

– Saffron