Sitting there I had a chance to reflect on the past, present and future, but in all honesty it would have been easier had I of known the answers to the questions that were stuck in my head.
I could stay there for ages, just going back through all the things that had happened and fully understanding them: it would have taken years, but I was determined to pass this phase in my
life where everything I said or did felt wrong.
Inside, I was angry, I felt hurt and betrayed by those I loved most and I have to admit, it completely affected the way that I saw people and the amount of trust that I put into them, it was rare
for me to trust people, I was scared of being hurt again and it took me a long time to trust anybody.
Telling people and going into the huge depth of what had happened was hard, it put a strain on me and at times I couldn’t cope, even talking to those close to me, I got the impression that they
didn’t care, I felt trapped in my own world where nobody understood and I never believed that I would find a person that understood the way I felt, until I met one of my younger sisters, Kerry.
As a young child, I had been bought up to never complain or worry about life, but the way I was bought up affected me badly, I trapped away what was happening, didn’t speak to people about it and I
ended up so badly abused that those who cared found out in the worst way possible.
When my older sister, Lily, began abusing me at a young age, I felt that it was right; I believed that everyone was abused at some point in their life, I saw it happening to my mum, my sister, I
saw people at school on the playground hitting each other, and because of the world I was bought up in, I felt that it was normal. I began to cope with the immense pain from a young age and by the
time I was eight, I was so used to it that no matter what method my sister used to hurt me, I just lived with it.
Looking back, I never understood why my sister abused me; she should have loved and cared for me, been there when I needed her most and never caused me pain, but she did and I always thought,
whether true or not, that she did it because I behaved in the wrong way.
As the abuse, physically and emotionally, became worse, I finally realised, after years of agony, that when I sat still and didn’t speak, she didn’t hurt me. It was then that I attempted to put a
stop to the abuse that I was suffering. At the age of 8, I stopped talking, I refused to eat in front of people and I hid when my sister came home. The abuse stopped for a while, until she got
angry and frustrated with me. In the small time that the abuse stopped, I felt that I was worthwhile, that I could live my life like the other people I saw wandering around, but I should have known
it would never last.
The time came eventually, where I thought that the pain would stop forever, my sister was put in a care home, her violence had become too much, even for my mum.
When my sister left, I remember sitting in the front garden in tears, all I could do was cry, even though it was the end to all the pain that she had put us through. It was a new beginning for me
and my mum, and I could move on from the life where I couldn’t move or speak without being abused.
A few months later, I still hadn’t moved on, the whole thing didn’t stop going round in my head, it was all I could think about. The time that I had alone, I spent in tears, there was no
possibility of me understanding what had happened to me and moving on from the pain at that moment in time, so I decided to enjoy life as it came, when I had a good day, I was happy, but when I had
a bad day, where everything seemed to go wrong, all of a sudden I seemed to become depressed and hide inside a shell.
About a year after my sister went into care, I found that I still couldn’t accept what she had done to me, and I decided that I wanted to go see her to get the answers that I needed, I wanted to
know why she had done it, whether she was happy at the moment and if she missed me. The answers I got were far from what I wanted, she said I should go to care because the presents were better and
you got more attention, I got no reply as to why she had abused me which upset me, but I had to move on, I had done all I could.
Gradually, I began to accept the fact that my sister was gone, and she would never be back, but I still missed her being around, when she abused me, I used to feel loved, I got attention from her,
whether it was good or bad, and now, with it just being me and my mum, I was left to my own devices, the attention I got was minimal and I felt rejected.
Rejection helped me through, I got used to doing things my own way and learned to live my life without being hurt, and this worked until I was about 12,when my Nan became involved and decided that
because of my sister and what had happened, she didn’t want anything more to do with me.
She couldn’t have made it any more obvious either, all of a sudden the presents, cards and visits disappeared and I never saw her around, or if I did, she ignored me. The truth was, I still wanted
to see her, I missed having her around just as much as my sister, and even though people couldn’t see the pain and heartbreak that it was causing me, it hurt, and again I felt trapped in a world
where nobody wanted or needed me.
In the end, my mum saw that I was missing my Nan, the constant tears and mood swings told her everything; I didn’t even need to speak. She decided to take me to a councillor, where I could ask them
to write a letter to my Nan asking her if she still wanted to see me. I waited for a reply for days, weeks and every minute seemed like a year, in the end my mum got a phone call, with the answer.
I remember sitting there, almost in tears, just hoping that she would still want me, but she didn’t, the truth was, to her, I was nothing, I was useless and she didn’t love me anymore.
I had to move on, it would be hard, within a few years I had lost my sister and my Nan, but somehow I knew I would cope, I had coped before and what didn’t kill me had made me stronger.
Until I was 14, everything after losing my Nan seemed to get better, it wasn’t life overall that became better, nothing great or exciting happened that miraculously made everything better, but
nothing bad had happened, I felt like the worst had happened and life could only get better.
Little did I know, I was very wrong. On Easter day I had a visit from my Nan, it had been a long time no see and I was shocked to see her, but I guess miracles can happen, so I looked at the
opportunity to speak to her optimistically.
She came in and everything seemed fine, she was smiling and I felt happy to see her, but something felt wrong when she asked my mum why I hadn’t been allowed round to see her, both me and my mum
knew that was wrong, she had the opportunity years ago to come and see me, but she declined it, so why was she acting like this?
My mum asked me to leave the room so her and my Nan could ‘talk’ but I couldn’t resist the urge to sit on the stairs and listen. I know I shouldn’t have, maybe my life would be easier if I hadn’t,
but I did and now I have to live with the knowledge of why the majority of my family blamed me for what had happened. I heard them arguing, about my sister and my dad, I was piecing together the
information that I had, it was one of the most complicated jigsaws I’d ever had to put together.
In the end, the information I had was too small and insignificant to piece it together alone, so I asked my mum. The whole problem had stemmed from my dad; it was him who left my family hating me.
I was disappointed to hear the whole story, I always believed he was a good person; he’d just left because he couldn’t deal with the responsibility of having a child, but I was wrong. He had
sexually assaulted my older sister when I was just a few months old, my mum had caught him in the act and there was no way he could deny it. I felt like a bomb had fallen on my head, everything
seemed so wrong; I wanted to end my life there and then. I didn’t say much to my mum that night, there wasn’t much I could say without bursting into tears. I went upstairs where I could be alone, I
needed to think the whole thing through, my dad wasn’t the person in my dreams, he was a nightmare that had come true. While I was upstairs I did things that many people wouldn’t dare to try,
I got my dressing gown cord and tied it around my light, at that moment I wasn’t thinking straight and many people ask how anyone can even think of attempting it, but then, I never thought that I
would be in that position either, I thought that it was stupid of people who tried it, but in all honesty, when you’re in the right frame of mind, nothing scares you and nothing is
impossible, tying the cord around my neck, I wasn’t even afraid. But at that last second, I heard footsteps, I couldn’t hurt my family anymore than they had already been hurt, it had been my
fault in the first place, I couldn’t just leave them to put it right, I had to do it myself.
I untied the cord and just led on my bed, I didn’t know how I would survive with the knowledge of what my dad did and how my family saw me, how they treated me, but I knew I had to, I was a strong
person and I would become stronger if I survived this.
For the next few months I had counselling, I needed to make sure that I could move on from what had happened and for a while, the counselling helped me paint over the bad memories with new, happier
ones, but the bad ones would always be at the back of my mind.
When I found out about my younger sister Kerry, my world suddenly seemed a whole lot better, it was like before, half of me was missing, but as soon as I began speaking to her it all seemed to get
better, I found my other half. It was never as simple as that though, my mum didn’t know I was speaking to her, I was scared of her saying that I wasn’t allowed to because of the link to our dad,
it was a vicious circle, I didn’t know what to do.
When I told my mum, she said it was my choice but she still didn’t want me seeing my dad, I agreed with her, but in my heart all I really wanted to do was meet him.
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