Sue Cox

Sue Cox

Monday, 30 April 2012

Skinny Scabby May Queen

First of May tomorrow,a beautiful month, full of new flowers and colours, the bluebells and the lilac out, and a sense of newness everywhere. 
I have always both loved and hated the month of May, loved it because I really really LOVE flowers, especially the ones that are growing now. Hated it because along with those fragrances come really awful memories. I have always been very susceptible to smells.
In my distorted catholic upbringing there was always much activity around May time,the time when there was a May procession in the church, and some young girl would be chosen to crown the statue of the virgin mary. 
      I was  always the May Queen!, “absolutely democratically voted for” they said, or I was the “retiring” May Queen, or If we visited another close town for their celebrations, I would be the “visiting May Queen”  or the “May Queen in waiting to be the next bloody “May Queen” Always singled out, I was never one of the flower girls or at the back of the procession - right at the front , in some contrived capacity or another - I thought of it as  Hell on Earth. Or maybe this was the training for  my “martyrdom?.” (Growing up I always believed I would be a martyr.)     Or was I being "groomed"?
   After my earlier abuse, I was already playing games with food, starving and bingeing, but also I was covered in scabs! I would self harm every day, cutting,  then scratching my arms and legs, and even putting ink or dirt into the scabs to keep them infected and bleeding. As fast as a scab formed I ripped it off and bled even more.They were like great craters on my body. 
      They said it was because of my "nerves" that I got these sores, prefferring not to acknowlege that  I caused  them myself! 
   So in my beautiful hand made "May Queen" white dress,I was getting  thinner and thinner, and underneath the white grosgrain, I was covered in bleeding sores.
   So every time I smell those beautiful flowers I am reminded that in all of the pictures, my hands in white gloves in prayer, what was really there was  a disturbed , suicidal,  skinny, scabby, May Queen.

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