Sometimes I think about everything I put my mum through. When I rang her, told her I’d taken around 50 pills, I was sobbing, telling her I made a mistake and it was down to the sexual abuse she had no idea even happened. Her boyfriend told me she fell to the floor screaming when she listened to me. To me it was one big blur until she came charging into the house and I fell into her arms both full of relief that we made it. She took me to counsellors, therapists and obviously the hospital. After speaking with the professionals she bought books, took online classes and came to sessions with me just to find out more of what was happening for me. She studied every page of depression, anxiety, eating disorders and ptsd all for me. Then once I was discharged from outpatient it started all over again, this time though she had the upper hand, I would cut my wrists and thighs to the point I felt physically sick all to feel something, she never judged me, instead she took me to my doctors for antidepressants throughout the therapy. She spent time with me, redecorated my room together and both got our hair done, all because she wanted me to have a fresh start. I quit college right when this all happened, they told my mum they couldn’t let me stay as they felt I was a risk to myself and others. I was devastated to say the least.
I’m going back to college in September, pursuing my dream career in forensic psychology. I finished therapy after four years just a month ago and I couldn’t have done any of it without my mum. I genuinely can’t believe I get to have someone so beautiful and amazing in my life
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