chelsea bridge

Is somewhere I used to live when I was younger. The house was on a square, and in the middle was this park, just for the residents. i think people sometimes refer to them as 'garden suburbs now', but whatever. That park was actually really pretty. Iron railings, and these little picnic benches, and i remember pushing my dolls pram around the path, sometimes with the dog tottling along behind me. There was a swing set, and these little horses, on springs that rocked back and forth.I've got this really vague memory of me and mum sitting on them having a pony race, and the dog pushing his little snout into the bushes. always thinking of his stomach that dog!

anyways, thats the first place i remember living.and leaving incidently. That wasnt a fun time. I also remeber ambulances coming there for mum, the constant doctors, and psychotherapists, and home treatment teams traipsing through the house ALL THE TIME. and the really horrible times when mum would shout and get angry because they were trying to make her go somewhere, and i was sitting on the stairs with my dolly Lina looking through the banisters, knowing that they were going to take mum away again, and not knowing why. Then I would cry, and one of them would come and find me and tell me that 'mummy needed looking after'. well what about me? and then enevitably grandad would come and take me to his house and nan would not feed me there too, with fucking icing on top. I was never really sre what was worse. cos i loved being with grandaddy, but nan scared me. and my brothers would be naughty and grandad would be worried and upset, and nan would shout, until i just went and hid in the 'good sitting room' behind the couch, next to the big plant pot, pretending i was a jungle explorer, and it was just me and lina.

In that house, i remember crystal clear the first time mum tried to kill herself.

I remember the first time mum weighed me.

The first time i made myself sick

the first time i wished i was anyone but me.

i went back there today. I dont know what i expected to get from it, but it was a curiosity thing, really. The garden isnt as well kept these days. And our house has been painted a different colour, and the front door is shiny black, with a lion head knocker.

Incidently, around the corner is a private eating disorders clinic. would it have killed you to try to get better mum?did you even care?ever?

i wish i was dead. curiosity killed the cat.

not long now.