As a small child it is hard to understand & even harder to accept that you are not loved by your mother. My biological father has never been in the picture, to this day I dont even know his name & he is not on my birth certificate. Everytime when I was little & I asked her about who my real father is, she used to get really angry at me & swear at me saying "It's none of your fucking business". Every time I asked her that question I got the same aggressive response. After a while I learnt not to ask anymore just to try & keep the peace. I was always afraid of upsetting her or giving her another reason to yell & scream at me telling me how much she didn't want me & she should just send me away to the little girls home. When I was small we lived in a trailer park in a country town, our trailer was so small my bedroom in my one bedroom flat now is bigger than the trailer we lived in when I was a toddler. We were dirt poor while I was a toddler as she was too busy either taking speed or being with her many boyfriends & collecting welfare checks which certainly did not go towards looking after me. It went on speed, cigarettes & whatever her boyfriend wanted. At one stage I was eating out of the trailer park garbage bins out of desperation. To this day I remember the joy I used to feel when I would find a discarded McDonalds bag as I could always be sure there would be some leftover fries down the bottom of the paper bag.
I suffer from several psychiatric illnesses as a result of the abuse I suffered not only in childhood but adolecense & aduldhood as well. I have to take 5 different medicatons every day to keep me semi stable & out of psychiatric hospitals as I would rather kill myself than be put back in hospital. I have not been in hospital for almost 10 years now & I aim to keep it that way. It hasn't been easy staying out of hospital but I WILL NOT go back into them. So I take my anti-deppressants, anti-psychotics, anti-anxiety & sleeping pills every day like a good little girl.
Sometimes I hate taking my meds aas they have made me put on weight & as an ex-anorexia sufferer this has been one of the hardest things to accept is being fat because of the medication, if you ever truely recover from anorexia as you still have the same mindset & thoughts. I went off my meds once so I could lose weight and lose the weight I did, but it came at a price as I started losing the plot again. It took my psychiatrists a long time to convince me to resume taking them again. Eventually the threat to put me in hospital involuntariy & medicate me forcefully, I reluctantly agreed to go back on them.
I have nothing to do with mother as she refuses to acknowledge things that have happened in the past & has created this whole fantasy of hers interwoven with so many lies it would take years to unravel. I have a 19 y/o half sister whom I have not seen since she was 1 and a half years old as that is when I had to leave home.
I think that is my one true regret I have about leaving home is my sister. I absolutely adored her & so did she & she was everthing I wasn't as a baby. Beautiful,quiet, slept through the night & most important wanted & loved. I didn't resent my sister when she was born as all my childhood the thing I had wanted the most was a baby sister & my prayers were answered when she was born just after I turned 13. I fell in love with her from the first moment I saw her all bundled up in a pink blanket next to her all pink & wrinkled but sooo gorgeous. I got to choose one of her middle names after pestering her for months about it. Letting me do that & letting me leave home are probably the only 2 nice things she ever did for me. Not that she had much of a choice in the me leaving home bit!
From the moment my lil sis came home I doted on her. I used to rush home from school or wagging school as I did most days so I could feed her, play with her, spend time with her, bath her even change her nappies! I even used to get up a couple of times during the night to check on her as I was so scared of S.I.D.S I couldn't sleep well unless I checked on her to make sure she was still breathing & she was safe. I did that until she was 16 months old. That was when we still lived on the East Coast.
I was born & bred on the East Coast & I loved it. I used to spend all my time on my own just exploring, thinking & trying to stay out of her way which after my stepfather rescued us from the abusive boyfriend when I was about 4 and a half. I still remember standing on the side of the road at approx 4am waiting for my stepdad to pick us up in his semi truck & take us away from this horrible abusive arsehole she once loved and let him beat the shit out of me, burn me with his cigarettes & probably some things I have forgotten now as I was so young.
I thought of my stepdad as a hero as he had taken me away from the arsehole & I started being properly fed most of the time & clothed.
As a toddler being neglected I had only scrummy second hand dresses & no panties. For a while after my stepdad had rescued me I still had second hand clothing but I had new panties to wear. The only thing I can think of of where I felt humiliated & hurt by my stepdad was when he used to tease me and call me "no panties girl" as a reference to when I had no underwear & he bought me my first pairs of panties. And when he used to join in with her and threaten to send me away to the dreaded girls home. After a while I began to wish she would send me there! Just to get away from her and feeling so unwanted & unloved as I couldn't understand that if she hated me so much as she made clear, why did she keep me? Why didn't she put me up for adoption?