Mine is a story of chidhood abuse and neglect.Where to start? ok , before i was born my parents had been married for 2 yrs, when i was born , they had already , seperated, this carried on all of their lives until both died, i lived in extreme poverty, in a 2up 2 down rented house , my gran mother aunt grandad and off and on my father lived in that house.Dad , was in special forces in the war, and didn,t come out of the army until i was 2 , he was a "regular"grancha , was 30 yrs older than nan, and died by the time i was 4, my very 1st memory is being draggedout of bed, when i was asleep by my mother, i looked down , to see my dad i loved then, with a policeman, (he was trying to gain access to me)at that age i had no idea what on earth was going on, but my mother had a big smile on her face , yet was pinching my back soooo hard and whispering "say you want to stay here"i didn,t i wanted my dad. The next memory, was at about 3 , again dad was gone away.... i must have done something bad , because my mother beat me so badly , with a boiler stick, all i remember is the lady from next door , running in , on hearing my screams , then i was unconcious, there must have been some sort of family , discussion, because of the lady from next door, for from that moment all changed, i was never again left alone with my mother, she cut me off emotionaly completly. The only real contact she had with me, was from 5 on she put me into local "beauty shows" if i won, it was because ....my mother knew one of the judges, if i lost it was , "something i had done, my nervouse eye tic for example. The yrs went by, now no more real slapping but constant painful pokes, dad turned to drink, we moved into a better house , but there was no more money because of, the drink. To this day , i cannot stand the smell of alchohol, the house reeked of it.My mothers idea of cleaning was slapdash to say the least. god i still feel disloyal for voicing all this, because money was tight, i was so often hungry, so at 12 , i got a job for all the school hols working in a bakery, as much cake as i could eat, plus money i had to hand it over, because dad in 1 of his drunken rants had said , he didn,t see why he should keep a "big lump like me, and he wasn,t sure i was his!".....At 15 i went , to meet some fiends , (i never ever took friends home because i never knew what the house or atmosphere would be like)i met these friends as we did in the 60,s in a cafe in the next village , it was a bus ride away, i had to be home by 9 pm as dad then worked shifts,as i got off the bus , a man in his 20,s approached me, i only knew him by sight , he was a local rugby player, he walked to my house with me , as he said he "had to go past there"well ..... he raped me , never uttered a word, i fought but i was about 5ft and 6 stone he appeared huge. My , mother must have heard my screams (it wasin bushes right by the house)she came out and called my name sharply, i just ran, i told her nothing i knew better,i would only have been to blame , i knew how it worked by then.....at 16 i married my 1st boyfriend , we adorded each other, he died of cancer at 40 i was 36. Out of cowardnesss , of being alone i remarried, then followed 15yrs of emotional abuse, until we went to relate that helped, things arn,t perfect , but i cope. Yet , still if i make a misstake , i immediatly believe i have done something wrong and shake, i,m still that bad girlo my mother knew.......rusty |
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