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Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

This song always makes me think of Baby at her best - in a nice outfit, pretty dress, make up done, not smeared because she was drunk having just kissed a random stranger

But happy, dancing, laughing

That’s how I want her to be remembered

Because it did feel like she died, inside of me

That’s quite dark, and it felt dark, the psychosis was a lot darker than previous episodes I’d had with my mental illness because of the grief. I was grieving already, but the grief over losing Baby was strong too

It was always like there was two sides to me from twelve onwards. I never named it under the psychiatric ward, when I started writing Paper Doll

That’s when I was putting all of the pieces together, trying to name something that had dominated my life and mind for a decade - an identity disorder

I named her Baby

Me and my best friend went to see Dirty Dancing when we were younger and after that we called each other Johnny and Baby, I was Baby

I liked the familiarity, but also creating distance between me and the identity, because i felt so much disconnect towards it by that point

I didn’t recognise pictures of me, all done up, make up and everything

I still don’t really, I know that was me, I know that, but i don’t connect to it, or feel like that was me, but I recognise me now

I developed dissociative amnesia when the disorder ended, I think it was a form of self protection, giving me distance from the memories to heal. At the same time it was excruciating

When the things that happen to you are this strange you don’t know how to tell people. So you bury it for a long time. I needed to find a way to speak about it. Writing was that for me. It gave me a voice for the darkest parts of me

I now want to turn it into a career somehow. I probably won’t write any more books about Baby, I’ve already released two and I have this blog. But songs, maybe

I love and miss her, she is a huge part of me. Anyone who loves me, has had to accept her as part of the deal.

Not always easy, Baby was complicated, and demanding, and broken and weak and strong. She was a very intricate identity that I spent a long time crafting

I remember a moment that I thought I’d have to give her up, it was too painful, when one id pretending the body revolts, I was ill physically and mentally, only one of us could make it, me or Baby, but I didn’t want to leave her behind, I’d carry us both to the finish line

I’d crawl

I’d have done anything to keep being her

But then the amnesia and i was like, it’s gone too far, need to get out of this place fast

I healed slowly, and it was a weird and beautiful and painful process

I’m still in recovery from a few mental illnesses

But I’m always happy to be alive, and happier than I was weighed down by other people’s opinions, expectations and my fear of the male gaze

Now I want to live out my dreams, my wildest dreams, as me, and do the things I once thought out of reach

Even being my true self was once on that list, but I’ve proven to myself I can be myself, and I feel free in a way I once couldn’t even imagine

Samaritans is 116 123

Theres also Mind charity

and Beat for eating disorders

xxx







https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgAcFo3tZY8




Check out my book about Baby, Paper Doll, on Waterstones.com and Amazon.com















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