POETRY MONTH: text redacted from 2017 SAFE MODE by Sam Riviere blog post

originally written, then redacted, as part of the 27th September 2017 post about Sam Riviere’s Safe Mode.

Reposted here to indicate the similar, psychological unravelling I experienced in response to my previous reading of Riviere

not brave enough or strong enough or whatfuckingever enough to leave myself, instead I let myself get rotten and broken and twisted inside, staying where I felt like I was safe, even though I wasn’t, even though I really, really wasn’t and even though I was getting worse and worse and worse and imagine, just imagine, living with someone who was happier with me when I was passing out drunk on the fucking kitchen floor every day for weeks at a time than when I was trying to be teetotal. Imagine living with someone who told me off for crying and for being suicidal and for having daily panic attacks and for trying to fix myself, help myself, improve myself, imagine staying there because you felt you couldn’t exist outside of it. That was where I was. With only three months’ distance, I’m already angry at myself for not having made more of an effort to leave before, I’m angry at myself for getting to the point where I thought I could never leave, I’m-

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