Letters To Myself

Book cover made by Movellas user Lily Anna!

*Completed standalone YA novel approx 57,000 words*

Winner of Nanowrimo 2017!

Seventeen year old Morwenna is struggling as a student in her school's sixth form. On top of that, she has to deal with a creepy house nearby with mysterious visions, her Mum expecting a baby and exploring privately her sexuality and identity. When things get rough at home, she decides to leave and start afresh but at what cost? Written in a mixture of diary entries/letters, poetry and prose, Letter To Myself tracks the life of a young girl over the course of a single year.

Only edited for spelling and grammar mistakes, plotline has not been edited. Suggested readership is 15+.

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28. 28.

Dear Myself,
Another major life event occurred yesterday which I never thought the day would even arrive but thanks to the continued support of Michelle and her family, I decided to speak to a therapist about my anxiety. It was hard travelling out there since the amount of butterflies that were flying around in my stomach made me feel sick with nerves. Up until this point, I had never really shared my true feelings about my anxiety with anyone other than writing these letters down which I've managed to keep up every week since the start of the year. That never happens to me and my writing.

I wrote a few poems based on the experience in an unknown room with a person who tried to help me unlock my inner feelings through speaking or listing down in pen the people, places and words that trigger things off. Diary, poetry has been an incredible tool to have as a voice whenever I physically can't open my mouth to speak. I see readers having a love-hate relationship with this writing style but personally, it's quick and easy to be expressive this way. What would my old English teachers from school think?

The Letter D
Let's confront this shall we?
Now we are together in company
One question will be asked
You will give an answer
Noted down without any laughter
Mocking, teasing, disgust
That's all gone
Now it's time to talk
Don't worry about pauses
We've got an hour to sort this
Reveal your honest reflections
To me
Then I will see
What works best for your needs
Discovering the inner ghosts
Setting them free

And another poem.

Big Purple Room
I left my love outside
The tears I tried to hide
As much as I love her so
Just wanted to let my spark know
Moments it flickers across
Times my body feels tossed
Against the roughness of the sea waves
That I can't see but sense
Approaching feeling of dread
Hiding in the covers of my bed
In the sight before me
The colours of the wall to my relief
Are the same I used to have on show
Back in the old place I called home
Here now alone
I sit in the middle of it all
And start to answer the call
I'm getting help
Finally

The idea of this is that on arrival, I was shown into a packed waiting room in which Michelle took a seat beside me and read from a celebrity gossip magazine, pulling faces at all of the articles that she was reading. On a typical day, I would read and joke with her but somehow, there wasn't any time for humour. Top priority was waiting to be seen quickly. Sure enough, when my name was called, she gave my hand a quick squeeze and I walked into a room with purple walls. Never could I have predicted what scenario would start to play out next...

The therapist wasn't all that intimidating much to my surprise but the questions started off the normal ones you get for any sort of interview or casual chat such as full name, age, date of birth etc. Then onto the actual anxiety side of things such as how often I have panic attacks or what upsets me the most etc. After a quick verbal test and then an online survey filled with more questions, she then checked and compared the results from both before writing some notes down on a table. Sitting there in the uncomfortable chair made me like a small fish in a big pond. From somewhere, I could tell that she knew what was going on with my mental health.

After a brief pause, she then revealed that my triggers and general everyday moods and fears added up to one thing: Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I was stunned, now no-one had the right to say that my moods and panic attacks were fake and attention seeking. The last piece of the jigsaw finally sealed everything I had fought so hard alone to now offer me a solution to help manage coursework and my love life better. I now have to do the following things for me:
• Keep a diary which I kind of already do but instead, a new version where I list down the panic attacks I have and how long they last for with possible events that triggered it off.
• Take some method of self-care every day whether it be having a hot bubble bath or treating myself to a bar of chocolate.
• Stay in contact with the people in life that I know and love the most.
• Be honest and upfront whenever I feel unsafe or unwell.
• Have a set time every night for going to bed.
I could go on and on but that's a lecture which would never end. Michelle will keep an eye out for me during the long College days and whilst travelling out and about at the weekends. Any sudden change in me, she will try to recognise and protect us from any harm. If there was a local superhero of the year award, then she would win it hands down. After the therapist meet, we stopped off by one of the local supermarkets to buy bath bombs and chocolate bars for stashing away in case of a sudden craving let's say at two in the morning for a treat. The scent from my wardrobe is alarming :P

Term is fast approaching as the summer days and nights start to run out for another year. I will miss the long days and short nights since not liking the dark much hinders my ability to fully go out and enjoy myself during the cold months. Closer to the time, I will buy a blanket and any supplies such as hot fruit tea for quenching my thirst after class. The amount of free-time I'll have once the first term starts will be a lot more than school plus secret shopping trips with the girl makes me feel like Christmas has come early.

My anxiety has finally been recognised. The coping process starts now. Ciao!

Yours,
Morwenna.

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