” I love you so much Mum. You know why I say it Mum? Because I love you.” This is what my youngest son says to me everyday.
So I’m going to use this as the base of my blog, and my life leading into that. I’m so glad that I have the privilege to be a wife and mum to my three beautiful children that I love so much everyday. A love that as a child, I never experienced.
” Courage, Strength and Belief ” are pretty powerful words. Even more powerful when you have to find that within yourself. I was never taught, shown, or even felt it growing up as a child.
It isn’t a nice way to feel and not something you hope to live through as a child. I’m not here to put my parents down or blame them because really, they knew no different themselves. What I do wish is that they tried a little bit harder to fight for myself and my siblings.
Not everyone in this world is blessed to have good role modeling parents. However, I”m able to share my story with forgiveness. I know there is no anger or ill will anymore. As I know they did the best they could. Was their best enough? Only they can answer that.
As I’ve grown over time I’ve realised a lot about myself and what I went through. I used to blame myself for existing and being born into a family that I didn’t ever feel like I belonged too. I was blamed for every action, harsh word spoken and depravity that our family experienced, financial, physical and health issues.
I grew wondering where do I belong? Will I ever fit into this world?
At fifteen when I decided to take my own life there was nothing left in me anymore. Quite rightly I was on a roller coaster of destruction. I hated who I was. My mum would hit me and throw things at me and constantly tell me how I ruined her life and that I should be grateful she didn’t abort the pregnancy when she could. My friends were just the same. They used me for there own demise. I was raped at such a young age and rumours circulated; “I asked for it “. Not to mention all the name calling and writings on walls at my high school.
I hated how I looked in the mirror with my terrible lupus rash across my face. All I wanted was to be loved but I hated me.
I am a survivor but more importantly I’m a survivor of suicide. I was in a coma for over 3 days. My memory of my coma is one of waking up and counting to ten and telling myself at ten im going to get out of bed. Nothing would move. My memory is a blur, a lot of blackness and I can’t remember my dreams.
My road to recovery, when I did wake up, was a long one and not an easy one. I was made to feel bad for my actions, lots of blame and let’s just move on. I never healed and I didn’t have any tools to heal. My family just wanted to move on. In their words ” it was a selfish act ”
Over the years I’ve realised I’m far from perfect but one thing I do know is that I am a good person with morals, respect and gratitude for all the blessings I have everyday. My actions were a cry for help. Did I get that help ? No, never, just shame.
The last time I spoke to my mother was over 7 years ago, she had been drinking heavily. Something that wasn’t unusual. My husband who has been my rock and my strength through it all, heard all the conversation that night.
For the first time in over 35 years I stood up for myself. I spoke with courage strength and belief. I expressed how I never deserved her putting me down. Describing me as a sucker, how I ruined her life, not fit to be a mom, a hopeless wife, a hypercondriact, mentally ill, bashing me until I was fifteen and always reminding me of what a burden I was to those in my life.
Even with all the physical and emotional abuse there will always be apart of me that wishes that I had a Mum to call on at times of need. But now that will never happen.
It saddens me at times to think that no one, not even my father protected me from the abuse.
When I look at my life now I’m so blessed. I married my best friend, soul mate and father to my children. I am a great mum who loves ,supports and cares for her children everyday. I’m a loving sister, friend, aunt , support and loving member of my community.
I will always fight for me , because I’m worth fighting for.
Abuse is not ok and it never will be. I just hope by sharing my story that I inspire others to break free. Would our life have been different if my dad did? I don’t know.
What I do believe is I wasn’t meant to die at fifteen because I’m here to make a difference.
” Always have Courage, Belief and strength because you my dear, are important ” I love you pop always and forever.