I was born in the early 80's. We did not have a lot of money at the time. It was long before all the tax credits and what not came about.
Apparently the house was allways freezing. My mother would often find me as a small baby with ice forming on my eyelashes and nose.
I remember we lived in front of a small wood, but as a toddler it seemed far more like a vast forest.
I was allowed to roam about there of free will, play on a huge rubbish pile with friends, riding our trikes up and down it etc. I was also allowed to wander over to the field with a rope swing on the other side of the estate.

I dont remember being overly unhappy at that time. Looking back I guess my mother wasnt that balanced even before I arrived. From this age I can remember her forcing me to drink a bottle of vinegar because I poured to much on my plate. I can also remember her telling me it would be ok to go in our lodgers cuboard and eat her easter egg.
I did just that, and was beaten as a result.

My brother arrived when I was 5, we moved to a new town. A house that needed a lot of work doing to it. My mother was in the grips of undiagnosed postnatal depression (and what ever else ) by this point and my brother was a difficult baby/child. This of course just increased my mothers anger and bitterness at how her life had turned out.

Life went on. School, where I was bullied because I was to withdrawn I guess. Home life, a mother that was fine one momment and exploding with rage the next. A father who stuck his head in the sand and escaped to the pub every night.

As my mother and fathers relationship broke down, she sought out new people/things/meaning in her life.

She read a lot on religion. I dont think she ever really took one up. But it gave her a new tool to gain control.
For example every time there was a storm we where forced to put on good clothes and go and stand by the huge window in the dining room.
We where told that who ever had been bad and not confessed would be taken away by the storm.
This happend for a while. I really thought I was so bad. I never knew if it would be better to confess to my child like errors to my mother or if it would be safer just to be taken away.
It allways came back to better the devil you know.

When I was about ten my mother met a man who had a huge influence on her. The storm 'game' became just for me. I was sexually abused by them both in order to 'save' me for about 4 years after that.

During this time my mother was still leaving suicide notes around the place, breaking down all over the place. My father had ceased to care about any of us. He worked ate went to the pub. Same old,same old.
So I had to become mother. Refereing the arguments between my mother and brother. Comforting them both and having them both take out there anger on me.

I was emotionaly degraded a lot. More so when my mother was in an emotional state. It seemed to make her feel better to hurt me.

As my brother grew older he would chase me up the stairs with kitchen knifes, im still sure to this day he was so out of control he would of used them.

My mother kicked me out at 15. I moved into a camper van with two bisexual men. I soon became the whore/good time girl for a group ok coke addicts . I would spend my days commiting small crime in order to feed my addiction or spend the time wasted in a car park a dirty pub or in some squalid flat watching others shoot up.

In the end I became 'close' to the local tough guy as such. First time he got me back to his he got me so wasted on coke and pills I couldnt stand let alone anything else and rapped me.
I cant say that has effected me to much as it was just a case of I said no he said yes.
But he did help me to get of drugs in the end.

I drifted from group to group untill just before my 17th. This is when I met my now husband.
I guess I was seeking a saviour.He told me how pretty I was and we would sit up talking late into the night.
Also his friends where all really good to me.
So I did one of my old tricks, feel for him thinking he could be the father figure that had allways been missing.

In the end we married. Even on the day I was wondering what the hell I was doing. But I couldnt hurt him. Let him down.

Now 5 years along he is emotionaly abusive/neglective. He has issues but wont work on them.
Yet I cant leave him. I am to scared of what life will be like without him.
Plus I know I have never loved anyone bar my son. So whats to say I wouldnt be the same with anyone I was with?

I have to stop there. Theres many many gaps but thats all I have in me for now.
L
xx

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