I came out of hospital and discovered that ‘me’ in my home had been eradicated. My systems were destroyed. My pile of tracksuit bottoms and PJs had been pushed to the back of my wardrobe. My favourite photos were hidden behind cards of the birthday I had been absent from the celebrations of. Each room was foreign, all the bits which identified me had vanished.

I was only gone 9 days and a lot more on both sides of admission. But in 9 days I was shown to be unnecessary, replaceable and un-needed.

Weeks later and I still meander from room to room looking for a place where I belong, accepted and wanted in the lesser form I now am.

I hurt. But it’s a secret. If anyone knows they will try and fix me. And I’m unfixable. So I must be satisfied by room that eject me each time I leave.


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