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well, my self-cheering thing just gets better....

i'm sitting in the house (you'll notice i didn't say my home) that my parents life in. Over the last seven and a half years, it's changed a lot... most of the rooms have been decorated, or moved around, or have different furnture. I don't live here anymore. i realised that today... my room has so little of me left in it, it's like if you left everything exactly as it was once the funeral was complete... let the wind blow through... see what's left of the flowers and everything after 7 years... *that's* me walking around this house.... i see *bits*... tatters of the past.

and even those tatters are too much. this place vibrates with my sister... memories are everywhere. in the fabric of the building almost... i walk in this room and i can see me sitting on the end cushion of the sofa holding her when she was a tiny little baby, i walk into the dining area and i can see her in the bath when she's a little older, and me singing silly songs i learnt at school. i walk in the garden and i can see my old climbing frame and her old slide that aren't even there anymore, and remember playing on them. i go upstairs and there's her room. and it's still decorated the same, and some of her stuff is still there, but it's different, lifeless, wrong. it echoes, it never echoed. the bed's gone, and things just aren't in the same places... not quite.. and there's junk in there... well, stuff my parents don't have space for elsewhere.

i wish they'd change it. totally change it. take down the pink and the shelves, pack up the books and empty the chest of drawers. change the Fievel carpet and, well, just *change* it. because every time i step into that room, i step back through over 7 years of progress... of survival, of pain, of getting better, of almost managing to *live* again, of side-stepping things that'll hurt, of building safety mechanisms, of learning to see stuff coming and laying safety plans.

i don't survive severe depression, atleast not often, i avoid it... i've learnt to kindof plan away from it. and i've learnt that i can usually see things coming when they're going to be unavoidable, and i can build a kind of safety-net to catch me if i do fall... it might involve a lot of people... and some of the avenues are closed to me now, like counselling, but i have a few options left... i set them up so i can get at them as quickly as possible if i need to...

that's my life.... that's how i exist. people question me when i say i don't live, i exist.... they want to know how i can think that... well, that paragraph above, that's the reason.

yeah, i can do cheerful... public cheer is *easy*... i can act, i'd never go on stage, i'm too shy these days, although i used to... but i can act myself cheerful whenever i'm in company that i know... the rest of the time, i'll be dressed in black, have on a black leather trenchcoat, spiky neck band, spiky wristband, handcuffs around my other wrist, and a conical stud through my lip... i tend to get left alone.

so yeah, my happy existance... and being back here is harder than i expected... maybe cos i've got so much other emotional stuff going on.... with my Angel, and with Hannah, my ex-fiance... i'm a mess of emotions and baggage at the moment... and i'm afraid i'm dealing with it very badly.

this is probably the most i've allowed myself to feel in getting on for 8 years.... even with Ellie, Sam or Hannah, i always held back, there was always that protected core... "me" hiding and not really being touched, except by reaction... never directly....

My Angel, you've broken that... i can't help *but* feel for you in my core. because you make that core feel bigger and more complete than it has in a very long time. that's why i react to stuff weird sometimes, and it's why you can hurt me very easily some days.

but i love you more than i've ever loved anyone.

well, you know what i mean, family never count in that phrase...

i love you