Erasing myself

I wish I could erase myself from the minds of my family and friends. Like Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet  do in the film Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. So I could leave home and catch a train to somewhere faraway and start again. Somewhere completely new.

They wouldn’t miss me as they wouldn’t know me. I wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving as they wouldn’t know I’d left. They’d just be confused by their spare room looking like someone lived in it even though they couldn’t remember who lived there. I’d remove all the photos of me around the house. 

The day of my leaving I’d pack the bits I was taking with me in the middle of the night and hide it on the back garden doorstep. After breakfast I’d kiss my parents goodbye as they left for work and set off soon afterwards.

I’d catch a train with a few belongings in a wheelie suitcase and randomly choose somewhere to call home by shutting my eyes and pointing at the rail map. Where my finger lands will be my new home.

Armed with the money I’d saved up for my escape I'd find a bedsit to call home. I’d have a corner where I’d put photos of my family as a reminder of where I came from. If anyone asked me who they were I’d say the photos came with the photo frames.

I’d reinvent myself. Change the style and colour of my hair and the clothes I wear. I might even change my name by Deed poll. Perhaps to Betsy, Avery or Emilia. I never thought I suited my given name anyway.

I’d control what people knew about me and keep some things back. My history would be on a need to know basis. If pushed I’d rewrite my past and keep it light and cheery. I’d rewrite my backstory so it excludes my family. If someone asked about my family I’d say I was an orphan with no family to speak of. I’d be happy starting afresh,  meeting new people and finding a job I could flourish in. Maybe there’d be a chance of romance. A flight of fancy. I think I’d like that.

I’d make a journey once a year on the anniversary of my leaving and come back to my hometown. I’d watch my family from afar and make sure they were ok and importantly, happy. I’d go to their favourite Italian café on a Saturday morning and sit at a table near their favourite spot. I’d listen to them happily chatting amongst each other. 

My niece might drop something on the floor and I would be near enough to give it back to her. She might flash me the smile that used to fill my heart with love. I’d bottle that love so it would last a whole year. When I left the café there would be no goodbyes as I’d be a stranger to them. My face wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. I’d be a nobody.

My family would be happy so that would make me happy and that’s what matters. Living in two different worlds.

Living Under a Raincloud

I’ve been living under my own personal unwanted rain cloud for ten years and counting. It looms over me when I’m awake, tormenting me like a creature from a Grimm Fairy tale. It sinisterly controls my feelings and thoughts. Like I am a puppet and it is the puppet master.

Even when the sun is shining when I’m outside, I’m unable to appreciate it. As my rain cloud stubbornly hovers over me. Preventing me from enjoying the warmth and happiness it brings other lucky people. Sunshine can’t give me rays of light relief. Instead my rain cloud drenches me with rain drops of doom and gloom.

Each tiny little rain drop hits me with great force. Like someone is punching me in the stomach each time. Each punch triggers negative, obsessive, self-doubting, hopeless thoughts which overwhelm and numb me. It makes it hard to think straight. Let alone function like a normal human being.

The rain drops also wash away any colour from me and my clothes. Turning me into a monochrome person. Like a character from the film Pleasantville.  A black and white photocopy of my former self. Suppressing happy thoughts and emotions.

Once in a blue moon I look up and my rain cloud isn’t there causing me to think that it might have left me for good. I start to feel lighter and freer. But it doesn’t last. It never does. The rain cloud slowly creeps back across the sky. Polluting my mind.

I long for someone to rescue me. My Knight in Shining armour. Armed with a leaf blower to permanently relieve me of my life sucking rain cloud and fill the sky above me with fluffy white clouds and crystal clear blue sky. We would bathe in the warmth of the sun together and I would be filled with hope and happiness.

But I doubt I will be rescued. I’ve been waiting for over a third of my life and it hasn’t happened. I don’t think anyone will be up for the challenge.

So I think for the foreseeable future, it’s just going to be me and my cloud.

What fun will that be.