Oasis in the desert

There are a number of people in my life, who sadly I will probably never meet, who have made a massive impact on my life. They have spoken into my life, or given me an image or produced some form of art/ media that has helped me to put things into perspective and move forward. Eddie Izzard and Natalie Merchant are two people who have made a major positive influence on my life. They are gifts that just keep on giving. Eddie Izzard has helped me to laugh and cry and just enjoy life when necessary. Natalie Merchant helps to give me the words and the emotions she conveys in her music. Despite listening to Natalie Merchant for many years a song has suddenly leapt out at me. I had never heard it before until this last week. During this time I have taken up rehearsing for a play and that has been like an oasis in the desert for me. This song truly has just been the cherry on top, it has just finished and rounded off this experience so well. It truly has been a God song. I will let the song and it's music speak for itself.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YXLjBYZbnE

"Tell Yourself"

I know what you tell yourself, you tell yourself.
Look in the mirror, look in the mirror what does it show?
I hear you counting
I know you're adding. adding up the score.
I know, oh yes I know what you tell yourself,
Tell yourself.

Ever since Eden we're built for pleasing everyone knows
And ever since Adam cracked his ribs and let us go
I know, oh yes I know what you tell yourself
Tell yourself

Who taught you how to lie so well
And to believe in each and every word you say?
Who told you that nothing about you is alright
It's just no use, it's just no good you'll never be O.K.?

Well I know, I know that wrong's been done to you
"It's such a tough world," that's what you say
Well I know, I know it's easier said than done
But that's enough girl, give it away,
Give it, give it all away

Tell yourself that you're not pretty
Look at you, you're beautiful.
Tell yourself that no one sees
Plain Jane invisible me, just tell yourself

Tell yourself you'll never be
Like the anorexic beauties in the magazines
Just a bargain basement Barbie Doll
No belle du jour, no femme fatale
Just tell yourself

Tell yourself there's nothing worse
Than the pain inside and the way it hurts
But tell yourself it's nothing new
Cause everybody feels it too
They feel it too

And there's just no getting 'round
The fact that you're thirteen right now

My evil mistress. My enticing, leeching, seductive mistress. She cannot let me go nor I her. I may have only learnt who she is recently but she has been there for so long. Lingering in the shadows. Whispering in my inner ear. Holding me from behind.
There is a certain chilling warmth to her. Something akin to a tepid glass of water when thirst strikes hard. You yearn for something cooling, something more refreshing but knowing this is the only refreshment, if you could use that term, within reach.
Life for some is refreshing of itself. For some it is draining but there is a spring of cool refreshing water nearby. Yet for some, such as myself, life leads you out into the desert, sucks you dry and then leaves you there. That is when she strikes. Many times she has sat there patiently, watching and waiting. Just listening and learning; finding the chinks in the armour and the weak spots in all the defenses. They say that "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," and no truer words could be said of my mistress. I find that after a time of being away from her, enjoying the company of others, enjoying life and living with all the gifts it gives me, she is there awaiting my return. As I rejoin my seclusion I open the door in my mind and she is sat in a room of chaos. Sat at an old table, a glass of ruby red wine in one hand and a slimline cigarette holder in the other. The room is in chaos: smashed plates piled at the edge of the room, shards protruding from the wall above it like shrapnel. Books are strewn across the floor with pages torn and shredded. The few photographs of happy memories are now spread across the table, marked with "lies", "they don't care" "you're just a joke". What few portraits there are of myself have "bastard" "ugly" and "worthless" water marked across them. No item is left untouched, nothing escaped her furious scrutiny. 

The smells then hit; a light touch of the deodorant hidden in the closet. My aunt had bought it for me once but it was the same as the one worn by him. Now the smell brings back waves of emotion; first anger as you remember the immediate pain and turmoil he caused, then anguish as you look back at all the times he had taken advantage and exploited you. This is followed swiftly by a wave of guilt and self hatred as I am reminded of all the times I had been overbearing, nagging and frustrated at his lack of love or care for me. Finally the deep booming hollow pang of loneliness rolls in like a silent thunderstorm. It strikes right in the chest spreading outwards towards my limbs and face. A solitary tear rolls down as I double over, steadily spilling over myself like a slowed down recording of a man shot in the stomach.

"He never really loved you, you know"

She rises slowly and dramatically, pointing at me with her slimline to reinforce her point.

"He never cared. Why would he? What is there about You that could he possibly love or care for? All you do is nag and whinge and annoy. He barely tolerated you and all you're good for is your "hospitality" if you can call it that."

She circles me, her heeled shoes crunching on the broken glass and crockery covering the floor. She gestures with her hand towards the table, wine glass still in hand without spilling a drop. 

"In fact that applies to all of them. You think they are wanting to spend time with you but they don't. You know that deep down in there so lets not pretend. Even whilst you're with them they are laughing at you, you're feeble attempts to be good company."

Her cold hand strokes across my back and she taps her slimline gently as it lingers over my head, covering me with ash.

"Now come along, there is no use in you staying here."

She stands in front of me holding my shoulders between her fag hand and glass of wine. 

"No-one can see in here and you can't possibly show them either. There is no escape now from this. Tomorrow I might let you go and have a good day. Or the day after. Or it may be a week. But don't you ever forget about me, because I am here and I will always be here. Ready to bring you back to this solitary confinement whenever I feel like it."

My shoulder drop some more between her arms. She moves to stand alongside me and pulls me up straight and starts leading me to the table.

"I know you must be tired but we have so much to discuss. Now you remember that time they wouldn't reply to your texts, that is because they don't like you and you aren't worth their time or energy. Believe me I know, look at all this other evidence......"

Another long night begins.