Hello,
Welcome to 365 Days of Poetry & Honesty! I hope this past week has been kind to you <3 I’m doing a lot better physically, spiralling a little mentally, but I’m taking my days one moment at a time.
This following paragraph I’m writing for myself, to document what these past couple of weeks have felt like. It might be a little graphic and triggering so I want to signpost in case anyone would prefer to just skip to the poetry! But this is for my own self-belief, so I have something to fall back on if anyone ever says to me that the way I was treated three times at that hospital is the way things just are, as if to say I don’t have a right to feel upset or angry or humiliated. The point I want to make is pain, addressing pain, emergent pain, excruciating pain, the point is not only just listening to a patient when they’re trying to tell you they can’t cope or even really breathe but also observing someone (me) doubled over, practically wailing, people are turning their heads to look at said patient because of how much noise they’re making, and someone helping, doing something about it. I understand that there’s criteria, that there are levels, that some cases require immediate attention, and yes, I’m feeling stronger so maybe it wasn’t that bad, but I also know how I felt, I’m stuck with that memory, and of course not the pain in its entirety, but my bodily reaction, the fear, faces of people, that I couldn’t really find the right words to articulate the pain and hating myself in those moments because of it. I keep thinking maybe if I could’ve explained, I don't know, they wouldn't have left me alone for so long but I don't know. I just know that maybe it was a gnawing, definitely not a burning, but also like my insides were imploding and something wanted to eat me alive from the inside out, it sounds visceral now, but anyone who knows me knows how much care I take into choosing the words I use, what they evoke/invoke for me and that they grasp at my truth, so I’m writing this for myself because I believe that I should’ve been treated better than I was, that it should not have been my third visit that they finally gave me pain relief to take home, well frankly any kind of medication to be honest, regardless of whether or not my symptoms were psychosomatic (which is the last thing a different doctor at a different hospital basically said to me because I was terrified of going back to UCLH when the pain returned the next day). And who knows maybe when they finally book me in for an ultrasound or a camera test we’ll get to the bottom of that pain, but till then I’m clueless, just much better than I was before. And to be honest I didn't think I’d name and shame UCLH but two years later, and another experience I think I have the right to describe as traumatic, it’s ridiculous. And it’s funny too, I’ve been struggling a lot with feeling suicidal the past couple of months and one thought that took me out of that emotion each time was remember how they treated you, do you think you’ll be safe there? That they’ll fix anything? No, put it down and fix yourself because only you takes you seriously. I’m strong, I know that about myself and I’ve heard enough people use that word to describe me, but I’m also tired of having to be strong because I don’t trust this world enough to believe that they want to see me alive, and that’s a sentiment that was made very evident after England vs Italy. I am alive because I have no option other than to be alive, even if it sometimes feels like living death. I don't think I’m supposed to feel this way about my life but all my energy is directed in survival mode, fight mode, sometimes flight when I feel the need to hermit and writing all this now I don't doubt that it's partly psychosomatic, it's an exhausting state to be in and I’m praying that sometime soon I feel enough peace both internally and externally that I can rest because that kind of pain, I don't want to feel it again or be in that position where I felt so fucking helpless and like a waste of space.
Anyways, enough of the darkness, this week I’m sharing with you some of my favourite songs from Spilligion, a collaborative album with EarthGang, JID, Hollywood JB, Jurdan Bryant, Mereba, 6lack, Benji and many other artists! It's one of my favourite albums ever that I go back to often because of how encompassing it is of humanity and it has songs on there that never fail to put a smile on my face :)
Monday
TRIGGER WARNING: disordered eating
Tuesday
I started rereading ‘The Vegetarian’ by Han Kang, an amazing book! And being home and having to make space in my mind for the bible again, it got me thinking about Adam and Eve and Lilith and I wrote this. It's quite violent but I really enjoyed writing it.
Wednesday
Thursday
This poem is called ‘To The Bone’ by Dorothy Allison. She has a book of short stories set in the American South called ‘Trash’ looking at class, poverty, and lesbian sexuality and it's been a while since I’ve read it but I remember vividly thinking what a raw and beautiful book! I really recommend it!
Friday
TRIGGER WARNING: Suicidal Ideation
Saturday
This poem is called ‘Practice Makes Perfect’ by Natalie Wee.
Sunday
Thank you for reading this week’s newsletter! Let me know which one was your favourite, or if you have any comments/feedback in general.
I’m gonna end the newsletter with two songs. First something by Tems, a song I think is holy and the second, an old favourite by King Krule!
With love,
Oyinda