Tw: domestic abuse, death, drugs, alcohol
I sat and wrote down all the awful, traumatic things that made up my childhood and reading back on it, it is just sad. It's sad that my life has always been scary and unstable. To me it was just "normal" and that was life. I knew my friends lives weren't like that and I knew it wasn't generally "normal" but it was my normality. I suppose at some point I have to stop beating myself up for my mental health and just accept the fact I was never destined for a life of mental stability- it was never on the cards for me. This is a much condensed version. My normality was a drug addict dad, who for a long time was recovering and fully functioning with a good job earning good money. At one point, I'm sure my mum was happy and full of love but I literally don't have a single memory of her like that, I know that it wasn't until after we lost my brother (full term stillbirth that neither of my parents recovered from) that my mum became destructive, mentally and sometimes physically abusive- that was my normality. I saw my dad have terrifying schizophrenic episodes including one time the voices told him to kill my mum so he chased her round the house like a scene from the shining. My dad spent a lot of time as an inpatient on the psychiatric ward after we lost my brother because he jumped straight back to drugs to deal with it. It was my normality to go visit him. In fact I loved my visits to him. I adored him. My Parents inevitably split up and my Mum went on benders for days at a time. Usually we'd be with her (at her friends house not like out in pubs) but sometimes she'd say she was going to the shop and come back hours and hours and hours later, steaming. I watched my mum get beaten black and blue every day for about 5 years. And I don't mean just hit, which is obviously awful enough. I mean he destroyed her and attacked her constantly. His favourite weapon being the steel toe capped boots he wore every day but he wasn't afraid to use other tools. Not by my dad, by the boyfriend she had after her and my dad split up. We got my sister from that piece of shit so my mum says every smashed window, black eye, every missing chunk of hair, and every open wound was worth it. My mum finally managed to get rid of him when my sister was 4 months old, after he'd kicked my mums emergency c-section wound wide open. Everybody knew what was going on all of those years and nobody helped us. Nobody cared. We went through a stage of having most of the windows on our house boarded up at the same time from him smashing them to break in. My mum stopped replacing the windows because at least he couldn't get through the boards. We'd sit behind the sofa on the floor up against the wall for hours. with all the lights off, me my mum and my brother, just cuddled up silently in the pitch black terrified to move or talk in case he heard/saw us and broke in. That was normality. After he left my mum spiralled. She was either too depressed to get out of bed or she was on benders. There was no inbetween. My Nanna basically raised my sister through he first years because my mum just could not, would not and did not want to. Around this time I had a stalker. It was the oldest son of the weird family that was obsessed with us. My mum was always nice and friendly cos she just thought they were a bit weird and dim. Then it got fucking weird. One night we'd gone over cos it was one of their birthdays and they asked us round so me and my brother played with the kids and my mum was downstairs. We went down cos we wanted to go home and they'd spiked my mums drink so she was passed out. They locked her in the living room, locked the doors so we couldn't leave and unplugged the landline when I said I was ringing the police. Now this part must've been before my sister was born cos I remember it was the stupid cunt I wrote about above who came and got us all and took us home. But yeah their older son (he was 4 years older than me) started stalking me. He tried breaking in screaming he was going to kill me, he'd follow me to school, he'd post things through our letterbox... other than a restraining order, nothing happened to him. I wasn't allowed to be a prefect because I was about an hour late to school every day. My school had to call his college to confirm that he was in attendance before I was allowed to leave my house and go to school. If he wasn't in attendance I wouldn't go to school or my mum would have to come and take me. Years after this he actually burnt his house down, killing the family's million animals and also his sister (my age) who had been locked in her bedroom from the outside. One night my mum was out with her friend and P (the one who beat her up) broke into our house where I was babysitting my brother and sister and he took my sister. He hadn't been around or bothering us a while so life had gone back to somewhat "normal" but then there he was, breaking in through a window again. He was a fully grown terrifying kickboxer. I was 14. I had to willingly be kidnapped at age 14 with my 10 year old brother and baby sister because I couldn't let him take her alone so we all went. He took us to his parents house and my Mum came to get us and I've never seen her look more like she was about to commit murder than I did that night. When I was 18 my dad died. It was an accidental overdose. My older half brother was dissing at my dads flat and it was him who found him. I don't like him or have any love of affection towards him but my heart will always break for him knowing he's the one who found our dad. But even that couldn't just be a normal state of affairs- drug addict took an overdose- here ya go sort ya funeral out.. oh no... my older half brother was arrested for manslaughter. He had physically collected the pills at my dads request and so they arrested him for manslaughter. There were inquests, investigations, you name it. Eventually he rightly fucking cleared of the charges and we were allowed to finally bury him. My mums next relationship was with the dad of mine and my brothers then-best friends (who incidentally were brother and sister) he seemed like a nice normal bloke. He'd been divorced from our friends' mum for YEARS and just seemed like a good bloke. He told my mum he has epilepsy and sometimes had seizures and so he'd had his driving license revoked. It turned out he was a manipulative, compulsive liar and an alcoholic. His seizures were a result of withdrawing from alcohol, he didn't even have epilepsy. There were so many lies. So many. So many arguments and a lot of stress but my mum managed to get rid of him after 3 years (and when I say managed to I mean finally managed- same with the other piece of shit they just would not leave all the times she tried to make them.) So yeah, these are just very brief highlights of some of the things I lived through. I could write pages and pages on each individual paragraph here, so much happened over my childhood years. Some of these aren't even the worst examples or instances of things we all went through because some of them are too awful to physically put into words. But this is also why I can never ever blame my mum for anything. She loves us and she's done the best she can despite all the fucking odds. She didn't have the best life growing up and she definitely didn't ask to go through hell over and over and over again.
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