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Shake it out - Florence + the Machine





























This song is full of lines that relate to my identity disorder, but the main ones are: “I can never leave the past behind… I’m always dragging that horse around… tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground” and “it’s always darkest before the dawn.”

‘That horse’ meaning the past, to me, is Baby. I was always dragging her around; propping her up when she was broken, stitching her up when she was bleeding, wiping the drunken vomit from her lips, and washing it from her hair. Bandaging the wounds, and like an addict, starting all over again to reach the same end each time.

Theres a Trista Mateer poem I love, Rachel Holds her own Hair Back. I once told a boy on a night out my name was Rachel. I loved the coincidence of the two things. I felt like the girl in the poem. I was bury my heart, dig myself up, and start again, then bury it again.

Alcohol started being a problem for me on nights out, since the first lockdown I have bee drinking every day. Recently I have cut down, and started doing one day on and one day off to wean myself off. It’s never good to be dependant on something whether that’s a man, a substance, or an identity disorder.

Baby is not for everyone, although she was. Its a difficult, contentious, and complicated story. I had more than one mental illness, lines get blurred and things go under the radar. Such as my identity disorder and autoimmune disorder

Although this blog is meant to be about Baby, I want to unpack the autoimmune disorder in todays post, because it is relevant.

“It’s hard to dance, with a devil on your back”

“I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight i’m gonna cut it out and then restart”

I couldn’t dance well at the time of the autoimmune. I struggled with walking for too long without a chair to collapse into, my broken body was beat. I had a devil on my back and she wasn’t budging. Despite my illness I continued to plaster on make up, and tried to act like any other nineteen, twenty, twenty one year old

As the years passed It went from excruciating, to pain, to numbness, to just life

Now it’s a memory

I’ll do a part two on the autoimmune next time

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