Ok im going to make a genuine effort to post more blogs and well open up a little bit more.
@rambo @missy @lyxzen
The one thing i really wished i'd learnt sooner was how strong i am.
I've been through alot of messed shit in my life, for the most part i brush it under the rug and just get on with things, i don't like to let all that baggage get me if i'm being honest, plus i'd probably drive myself insane if i didn't.
My mother had me 2 weeks before her 18th birthday in the glorious year of 1989, she was the youngest daughter and child number 9 to my amazing grandad and nan. When she told the family, the only person who didnt tell her to get an abortion was my nan and my mum always quotes her "you've made your bed, now you've got to lay in it". (this i can forgive as i obviously survivied yay baby skittles).
Now when my mother had me, my father quickly parted ways. My father was given a choice drugs and alcohol or me. I always used to wonder what was so wrong about me why i wasn't good enough to be an option for him in that choice, but now even though i still have my woe is me moments, im so much better off without him.
When i was 4 my mother came out to her family, she even came out to me, which was hysterical, the look on her face when 4 year old skittles patted her cheek and looked at her all exasperated and stated "i already know you kiss girls silly, i don't blame you either boys are such cry babies" i then toddled myself off and proceeded to demand she play the head waving music again (yay for observant rocker skittles)
I remember how quickly nearly all of my mums family and friends turned their backs on her and shunned her, insulted her. it drove me insane. She was still the same person she'd always been. My nan, grandad and uncle ken became my super hero's. They would still see her for her but well our family sense of humour is rather unique, so you can imagine the amount of lesbian jokes that we make.
We never had any money, i never went hungry, but for most of my life me and mum have barely scraped by. She always tried and i always noticed. Mum would always do things to make extra money, wether it was minding other peoples kids, doing peoples gardens, decorating a house, she even became a bricklayer at one point. But i'll always remember her job working in my uncles pub, every weekend would pack my little ghost busters back pack for the with clean clothes and some of my toys (if i couldnt take atleast 1 dinosaur and my stuffed cat with me where ever i was going then i would not be going) My mum would work in the bar down stairs and me and my 5 cousins would run around and play like wild lunatics and if the bar was quiet we would sneak down, we could all pull a pint by age 3 haha. But theres 1 night that stands out above the rest and that was the last night she ever worked there. That nights burnt into my mind as thats the night i nearly lost her. i remember we'd stayed up very late that night, we would all dive under the covers when we heard anyone coming up the stairs, then we all heard my uncle shouting, then the bangs started and then i heard my mother, i remember every word and i remember even though i couldnt fully understand what was being said my heart broke with every word. she was confronting my uncle about the sexual abuse he used to put her through as a child and i'll never forgot what i saw that night as i made it to the stop of the stairs there was my uncle beating my mother while he strangled her and then i was pulled back by my cousins, trying to make sure they kept me safe away from him and as they pulled me back down the hall i saw my auntie, lift this huge heavy vase and smach it over his head. i remember thinking as his body hit the floor that i hoped he would never get up again, i wanting him to be dead (skittles wish still has not been granted, but i did break in tears of laughter when my grandad told me bluntly that said uncle had gotten cancer of the cock..........skittles loved the dark irony of that one.......)
The day i finally put all the pieces of that puzzle together was very much a bitter sweet pill to swallow. You see me and my mother have many things in common, not sure this one of the things she wanted us to have in common. I was drugged by a different uncle (yeah this is why im very selecct in the relatives i do like and associate with) when i was 10 years old, i dont remember much about the first time, but i couldnt tell anyone, my mother was already on the verge of either suicide or senctioning at the time, my grandad had nearly died twice that year due to a heart attack and stroke over the grief and shock of my nan dying. So i kept it to myself and stayed quiet. but my guard was up and i made sure to never be alone with him and to always be careful around him. And for 3 years i evaded him and then i remember drinking lemonade and then things got fuzzy and then i remember every vile thing he whispered and every thing he did, i remember screaming in my own head to do something to move, for hours i remember being trapped inside my own body, then when he was done, he got up got dressed and went the pub. (he's now in a care home, he's slowly becoming braindead, he's cant remember his sons, or ex wife but he remembers me. not creepy at all. on the plus side by the time i was left alone with him again i was 15 and he was more scared of me than was ever scared of him, never try to jump a skittles when shes near knives.......) my mother still doesnt know, she has her suspicions, but she has yet to ever ask me anything, she knows i'll always answer a direct question.
i feel like i unloaded alot there and i edited out alot, but i think thats enough emotional baggage for 1 night.
But my point is not once when going through this did i ever realise how truly strong i was, i carried all these burdens alone for so long and the whole time the only thing i wished and prayed for was to not be so weak and to be stronger. It took me having nervous breadown at 18 and my mother and grandad giving me a stern talking to for not telling them i was having a nervous breakdown and during a very non pretty moment of me blubbing about what a pathetic weak waste of life i was that i had the sense slapped back into by my grandad of all people and i will always be grateful for that. As thats when i get sternly informed how rong i was "if you werent strong, it wouldn't have taken so long for you to finally have this breakdown, we've been waiting for this since you where 7 and every year where torn over wether we want you to break down or not" and then i thought about everything and realised that i didnt need to be stronger, i didn't have to let it weigh me down, i'd already survived it all the hard way, i'd be damned if i let beat me now.
I apologise, for how fucked up life and family is. i've been really nervouse and torn between doing this for while now, but if i was to write about everything in one blog it would take me about to month to write, not worrysome at all.................
night from emotionally drained skittles
xxxxxx
