Who Am I?

As far as I can remember, I have always been a bit different. It became apparent whilst I was at school.

I remember very early on having a psychiatrist visiting the family home to try and work with me. I was a very frustrated and angry little girl and not the most social. I used to fight with who ever, when ever, and made my parents lives quite difficult.

When I was young, my parents split up and got divorced, which meant we could no longer afford the family home. The separation wasn’t the most amicable and I remember quite a bit of arguing. We were made homeless, and my mother fell in love quickly. We moved in with her partner (who is amazing) My father didn’t have much to do with me or my siblings.

I remember fighting a lot with my new father-like role model and my mother and once again I made their lives hell for a while.

I really started to notice something was different when I started secondary school. I didn’t quite fit in with the kids my age and by age 12-13 I had a few “friends” who were a lot older than me.

A couple of them were 15/16 but they were dating older men, who hung with older men, so naturally I was hanging with people twice my age.

It is here that I started feeling like maybe I was wired wrong. Why didn’t I get on with people my own age? What was wrong with me? Was I really a freak like a lot of people said?.

Naturally, hanging about with older kids I started to skip school, push boundaries and start smoking and drinking. I fell madly in love with a man twice my age who was going out with someone I knew but what did I care? I LOVED him (yeah yeah now I know how dumb this sounds but at 12/13 seeing a 24 year old who tells you they love you and will leave their girlfriend for you and sneak around behind their back with you, be your first kiss, your first nearly everything….but that’s a story for another day) I was on top of the world. I didn’t care. I was reckless and took risks.

This was my life for nearly a year until things started to get a bit heavy. Things with the secret love started to look not as great as I had once thought (OK so I finally started to wise up it isn’t right for a 24 year old to be doing what he was doing with a 13 year old after a knock on the door from the police at 6am one morning to check I was OK. Took me a while to realise it and I should of spoken up but I didn’t and that’s something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life.) After I stared thinking that it wasn’t right on the girlfriend I threatened to tell her, which resulted in me being pushed into a canal and nearly drowning. Sleeping in fields at night after lying about staying at a friends house, being too drunk or stoned to move. Going around in cars and meeting up with strangers just because I had no value in life.

I can tell you now, that those are no ways for a 13 year old to act. They are no ways for a 13 year old to feel and it is only looking back on my life I realise how much I have struggled with my feelings.

I took a massive step back from the crowds of people I was hanging around with. The impact this had on my life was devastating. I was bullied extremely badly. I then developed a huge anxiety.

I was so afraid of going to school, I used to get to the gates, have a panic attack and have to go home. I didn’t leave my house for days. I began feeling depressed. And it is here that I was fully aware that this feeling that had lurked around me for so long was coming out and showing its ugly head properly for the first time.

I thought I was going to die. Now that might sound extreme for a 14 year old, but I honestly felt like I was asleep, walking around in a huge nightmare and that I would never be able to wake up. I didn’t tell anyone. I was terrified. I went to the doctors when I couldn’t handle it any more and they got me seen by a counsellor straight away. I was having 3x 1 hour sessions a week for a few months at the special clinic near my home until I was ready to go back to school. At school I was put in special isolation and given as much encouragement to get my grades up as well as having sessions with the counsellor. This got me through my GCSE’s. And despite not being at school 70% of the last two years, I managed to get 3B’s 6C’s (just slipping that in because I am still to this day amazed at how well I did).

Counselling ended when I got sick to death of my new welsh counsellor telling me “your so pretty” ( no offence welsh people but when your feeling like you could punch someone in the face and like you want to slash your body up to match the mangled way you feel inside, being told your “pretty” in such a patronising way just wasn’t gonna cut it!)

So here I was once again with a mind like someone had left 10 radios on, all on different channels,a spark keeps going off in my brain because the wiring is wrong, like I could quite happily jumping in front of a bus, staying away from ALL SHARP OBJECTS and completely hollow. At this point in time, I was forever being told that it was just a phase. “Your a teenager. Its probably just hormones. It will pass”. Thanks. Thanks for that. That was 8 years ago. It hasn’t passed.

The bullying and fear of going out in public was still tremendous at this point, so as soon as I finished school, I stayed in until college where I found some new friends and a new chap who I moved in with as soon as possible. Yes yes I know I ran away from the problem and made more problems for myself. I wont go too much in to the whole relationship that failed because I’m not here to chat about that, although we shall see as the year goes on.

I was still drinking a lot. Still having these thoughts and feelings and still not coping very well, so I made an appointment with a new doctor and explained to them how long I had felt like this and what exactly I felt like. I felt like ending it all. I didn’t care how at this point but I couldn’t go on. So medication was issued.

The thing they don’t emphasise enough, is that after a week of medication to make you feel better, you feel worse. Oh and that drinking whilst on any formal of medication isn’t good. Needless to say, after a week of the meds and one booze filled evening to escape reality of how shitty things were looking for me, I decided it would be a great idea to taken every single pill I could find and drink every single bottle I could find. Someone called an ambulance and I ended up in hospital for the night. Sent on my way the next day with the shakes back to my crappy flat, 3 jobs, rubbish boyfriend and a mind full of hate. So what do I do? Well naturally I kick the boyfriend out, lose all my jobs, hang around with a few people into coke and drink driving and stay drunk for a few more months. THANKFULLY I never did anything other than smoke a bit of weed. I have one person to thank for that and they know who they are. I wanted to as they were, and they stopped me. Never let me near it again.

The flat I was in made me so ill (mould) I ended up in hospital for a few days. A good little break which then landed me homeless so I was housed. Back to the working three jobs lark and not giving a shit. I upped and left. In a hurry. Without telling anyone. And moved in with a friend no where near where I had been living. And carried on drinking. This time more as my friend liked having a drinking buddy. Well we could sink a few crates a night! This was fun! Until I got left at a party where I met my now husband.

We fell madly in “love” straight away and after two weeks of knowing him, I moved in with him. I stopped drinking and started smoking weed. A lot of it. It didn’t help. We decided to get a bigger place together and I was so loved up everything seemed fine. We were stoned all the time, we were skint all the time despite him working. He proposed after a few months and I said yes. We decided that we wanted a child. I stopped smoking weed, he started smoking outside the house. I thought I was OK.

The curtains never got opened, I never answered my phone, my partner was worrying and took me to the doctors. There was something wrong with me and I couldn’t tell him what. He didn’t know. Severe depression strikes again. Turns out all those hormones aren’t good for that sort of stuff.

So now I was not only a danger to myself but my unborn baby. Alarm bells for doctors, emergency appointments to get me on medication as soon as possible and having to be baby sat by crisis team until your partner comes home isn’t the ideal pregnancy. It was either that or be sectioned. And no one wanted to put me in a strange hospital, heavily pregnant, on crutches from other complications and away from the only person I had told I was struggling to.

So what happens when a depressed person, who cant cope, has a baby? Well, not sure about anyone else but I had severe post natal depression and couldn’t face being in the same room as my child let alone pick them up! I hid it from everyone. I couldn’t face the fact that this one thing I was supposed to be good at, and this one bond that everyone says is the most amazing thing ever, for me was the most desolatingly. All my goodness (what little I felt I had) was sucked out of me and put in this tiny creature who hardly ever cried. I hated my child. I hated the fact they were amazing, loved, looked after, well behaved and wouldn’t have to worry about anything for a good few years. I hated the fact they stole my smile, and the smiles that should of surrounded me. I hated the sheer happiness they represented. It was like they had a glow around them. They stole my glow.

After my phone took a flying lesson and I woke up and realised I needed to get a bloody grip, I made a radical decision to move in with a family member. I gave my partner the choice to stay on his own, or come with me and the baby. He chose wisely. We moved in with a family member and there I managed to create bonds with my baby. Unfortunately, not being a very good pick of boyfriends with out problems, my partner was going cold turkey from a long addiction of drugs. He crashed a little and I picked up the pieces and supported him. I wont lie, it was incredibly tough. Not the toughest we have been though that’s yet to come (that’s if your still reading this massive story).

After a couple of months, it was no longer suitable for use to live with the family member and we ventured on our own into rented accommodation. A new home. A new start and things were looking up. My ups and downs were becoming more manageable and I was recovering from the damage the last year had on my life.

My confidence was non existent and my trips to and from the doctor to sort out medication and counselling were fortnightly. It was then, that I was finally told “some people are very happy people and some people are very depressed people naturally. Some people are fortunate and somewhere in the middle. You’re just one of the unlucky people who are very depressed most the time. Its just the way you are” . Turns out I’m not wired wrong.

These last few years have been just as crazy. I took a confidence building course, a cooking course, a working with children course, a first aid course. I volunteered at a local community centre. I helped out a bit. I got a little better. circumstances weren’t too bad. My partner and I decided to get married. Once it was all paid for and everyone was expecting me to do it, he dropped a massive bombshell he was an addict. we tried to work on it and work at it. it was a case of all or nothing. we decided to try for another child as we were doing so well together. it turned out to be all lies and all fake. So here I was, married to an addict who would rather go to meetings or get one of his fixes instead of work at the relationship, with one child and carrying another and nothing was going to stop me. I stood firm. I had our second child. I had some news about an illness the doctors suspected. I was devastated. I needed support and help and I didn’t get it from my so called husband. It was then that I finally gave up on fighting it. it was then that I finally realised that trying to live together for the children’s sake was doing more harm than good. it was then that I realised life can be cruel and it can give and take away so embrace it. I am ME. 

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3 Responses to “Who Am I?”

  1. kebibarra August 1, 2012 at 10:41 pm #

    I wonder the same…. Thank you for sharing.

  2. Caitlin July 14, 2014 at 3:50 am #

    Thank you so much for sharing this. I really enjoy reading your work. Do you have Twitter or Facebook by any chance? I just started a blog of my own and would love to chat with you since i’m so new to all this.

    • facelessmind July 14, 2014 at 7:22 am #

      Hi caitlin. Thank you. No I don’t unfortunately. Because i try to keep this anonymous and completely seperate. Writing is easy. Just write what feels natural and correct x good luck on your blogging journey

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