This is an anonymous blog post
Knowing that my mum didn’t want me was hard. That’s been so difficult to understand and come to terms with.
People say that your childhood affects the person you become later in life and it’s true, well it was for me.
My dad was a big drinker and his drinking was more important than me.
He reacted badly when I was abused by a family friend when I was young. The man was killed in the attack and my dad went on the run from police and he took me with him.
My dad had killed the man who abused me
I was twelve years old when he said I would have to return back to our home town without him. I had been given a fake name by this time to hide our identities.
Not only did I have to deal with the knowledge that my mum didn’t want me, it seemed that neither did my dad now.
But there waiting at the airport on my return was my mum.
I was still too young to understand but I remember a court room and my future was being decided for me.
My mum left the courtroom and I never saw her again.
She had abandoned me all over again.
I was put into the care system.
I was fostered by a couple who not exactly loved parents, my foster mum and I didn’t get along and my foster dad went onto abuse me.
I was learning that I was so bad that nobody could and nobody would ever love me.
Everyone had let me down.
Even my mum didn’t want me
When I was old enough I was sent on my own way. The only thing I had learned was how to be sexual.
I met a man who beat me but I had his baby and just wanted to be loved.
I was so messed up.
I was severely depressed.
For months I feel deeper and deeper.
I locked myself away from the world.
Not even my child could save me.
I was in the bathroom mirror one morning and caught a reflection of myself.
Who the hell was I?
I had not taken a bath for weeks, had worn the same clothes for days.
I was a mess
Too afraid to face the world, I stayed indoors.
I looked at my daughter one day and something snapped.
My mum didn’t want me and here I was acting as if I didn’t want my own daughter
This really was a learning curve for me.
Although I fed and bathed and was there for my daughter, I was not being a good mother at all. Her needs were met but it was done in a robotic state.
I reached out to a friend who stepped in and helped me.
I went to the GP. It was so hard to admit how my life had become what it had but I knew I could not carry on down this route.
I was prescribed medications and talking therapy
It’s been ten years since I went to the GP and mental illness has been a part of my life since.
I still do not have any answers to all the questions that go around in my head.
My childhood can never be changed and I find it so hard to accept all the things that happened to me.
Two years ago I attended a meeting for children who were in care and for those like me who had been in care.
I became a Young Minds helping volunteer, which is a UK charity committed to improving the emotional wellbeing and mental health of children and young people.
I am using what happened to me as a way to help others.
I am making a difference.
My mum didn’t want me as a child but as an adult I am sure she would be proud to know that she never broke me by leaving me, she may have damaged me, but I’m not broken.
I am in the process of writing a book. I survived the system, not everyone is so lucky. Not all children in care are cared for correctly.
I may never recover from mental illness but I’m using it to my advantage and inspiring others to speak out.
This is an anonymous blog post. You can share your own experience to help others. All blog posts submitted via the blog anonymously email form will be added to the blog anonymously for you, just like this blog post has been.
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