Lost inside myself.
How do I begin to describe Me? What has made me and the person I am today?
On writing this I’m aged 40, a female, mother and wife. I am
I suppose just those and that is who I am. But what makes me the real me is
that im an artist. Being an artist is the whole me, its what I live for, and my
dreams. With my art I can be anything .
I was born in Germany, the fourth child to an Irish mother
and an English father. A forces baby. I remember Germany reasonably well,
perhaps more as images in my head, and more than likely selective images. In
the late seventies we moved to the UK,
and it’s here my memory of the past is clear.
My childhood saw many happy and sad times, and daft as it is
I remember the sad much more than the good, although I do hold onto the
fragments of good when needed. My Dad worked when we came to the UK but I
mostly remember him as a drinker and drunk often. I too remember the violence
however much I was shielded from it. After all, a child has ears to hear.
Not long after living in the UK my brother died, a road
accident by a drunk driver while out playing. I was 5 or 6 then, But I remember
him clearly and his laughter and smile. He was beautiful. This is when life for
my family started to tear apart and my Dad drank more and so eventually he
left. I didn’t know he had gone, nobody told me, and I wondered for quite some time when he
was coming back. He didn’t clearly and I next saw him when I was about eight.
In between those few
years my two sisters also left one by one to go and live with my Dad. I thought
they had just gone on holiday and waited for them to come back. They didn’t and
I missed them more than words can describe.
Before they did leave I was left in my sisters care often if
my mum was working or out, and they in turn left me in the care of a young
male. Now this is where my memory is patchy and dazed. I think it might me the
way I protect myself. I was sexually
abused by him and although the images of that scene are in my head I can’t
remember it all. I do remember knowing it was wrong but felt helpless and so it
happened. I told nobody like children often don’t. Funny thing is he was a trusted friend to my
family and once more I was left in his care and lured to his own home. I just
remember the swing park from that day and a blue sky and dreading what was to
happen. I mostly chuck this to the back of my head although it often shows
itself and I find it hard to cope with. I once, and only once lay down and
tried to bring it all together, piecing it bit by bit and I know there is much
more to see and remember but I just cant do it and let it all come back. It’s a
haunting that has never left me and never will.
But children are stronger than we imagine and cope much more
than we deem them able to. I was a happy child, always busy, always playing and
had lots of friends to keep me busy. An imaginative child that was never bored
and always up and early ready for a new day of fun! I was lucky, I had the love
of a good mother and I can only assume it was this that meant I grew up and did
the normal stuff.
I say a normal mother. She is and was I suppose, but like
all of had her flaws too which do affect us as we grow. I have learned however
there are reasons behind each of our flaws and what makes us who we are, and
she in her turn has her reasons, and they are sound just reasons in my view.
Although I wish she had been a little different. More open and more trusting of
me, and gave me more encouragement and didn’t make me feel like I had to hide
everything from her. But in general I cannot knock my mum, she is who she is
and at times in my adulthood when I have needed her to protect me she has
always been there and done just that.
I loved my teenage years and most of all my boyfriend from
those years. I still love him with a passion to this day and I doubt that will
ever go. Its like a curse. I still have small contact with him and its
something im happy about. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband, he is the
right man for me, but it’s a different
kind of love. I could never be without him and I during one of my mad episodes
how much he means to me, and just how much that man loves me with all his heart
and forgives me for everything I do.
Young adulthood was good although I did always feel
different. I just ignored and lived for the day and fun! Fun was what I wanted
and fun was what I had. Never planning and just going with whatever, whenever
and however! A dangerous way to be that did me no good. On this part I could
write forever too but ill keep as short as this.
I met a young man when I was 18, by 19 had my first son. Im glad because I love my son but in some ways
I wish id never started what was so wrong and could only lead to harm. A
dangerous person so I learned, but by
then too late. Abusive not just
physically but also mentally and somebody that would only harm me and cause me
so much hurt. My mum saved me and for this I am thankful. I do howvere still
look over my shoulder and always aware he is still out there.
Took myself on holiday when my eldest son was a baby and met
my husband. I knew from day one I would
marry him. He is the kindest most gentle man ive ever known and took the two of
us on. We were instantly the family I longed for. Along came the other two
children and we are still together to this day. It hasn’t always been
easy. Ive hurt that man much more than I
can bring myself to say here, but he kept standing by me. I feel an awful shame
on myself daily but I have to move on and accept I went mad for a while and
lost I suppose. We struggle all the time financially but somehow when at our
lowest we join and keep it going. I suppose that’s what marriage is about.
Inbetween all these years there has been other stuff, and
family battles, and I wish I could just have normal where im not judged, we are
not judging each other and just happy. Ive cut my ties now with one family
member because I couldn’t cope with the stress anymore and the doubt, the
worry, the feelings of being insecure and most of all the knock this family
member gave me. Made me sad for too long. Again this is a long story and would
take forever to explain, its complicated and so I just cut myself off. It makes
me sad at times, I wish for more but it will never happen and so I have come to
accept it cant happen.
Since childhood I think ive had something missing, like
childhood depression although it never got me and I worked at being happy. I know it was there way back then but its
only in adult life it caught me big time, and more so the last 5 or so years.
Ive spent many a day at my lowest , many on a high, many
in-between. The highs I like and could
say love, the lows are just like living in hell, while and the in-betweens are
only short lived so nothng special.
Ive had the panic attacks and the deep anxiety days, the
days where I can’t move even an inch and feel so lost I can’t do anything other
than gently rock myself to sleep. The days where I’m the Supreme Being and
anything is possible, the mad days where I can spend spend spend and be
anything I want. But it’s the low days
and the worst of the lows I live in dread of. These days last the longest and
although their intensity differs they are what keep me a negative person, so
much that this negativity now carries over into my highs and so leaves me
terribly confused. I hate my head with a passion. I hate that this is who I am
and long to be different and have something to look forward to other than how I
currently feel and have for a long time.
Im now in the process of having assessment to find out if I
have bipolar. Im told I do and ticking all the right boxes, but until whatever
they do is done I cant say I do really. I know I do and so do they.
Im lucky is some respects because my lows are not as low as
they have been in the past. This is because of my meds although they just help
slightly. They stop me from going back to the times where id lock myself away
for days on end, so confused I was in my not even moving an inch days. Id just
lie and cry so many tears that never ran dry.
I didn’t eat, I couldn’t read, I couldn’t even watch a childs cartoon.
Id just be rotting away wrapped in my duvet thinking and crying. I say
thinking, but I don’t even think I thought that much. I just felt blank and
empty.
I still have those kind of days but no where near as bad. In
some ways I think id rather have the totally empty rather than the half full.
The half full is the most negative way to live a life and the biggest battle
ive ever had to go through.
Its said our childhood and experiences define us as a
person. I do believe this, but I do believe that some of us are born to be
different and have whatever it is that makes whats deemed as normal missing. I
do believe that’s missing in me and mixed along with my own childhood and life experiences
the result is worse. Mixing it together
is fatal.
Im happy to be me having wrote all this. In some ways im
glad its my past and not that of another person. Some people would cope less
than I do. In some ways it makes me strong however hard that is to believe and
has made me a better person.
My one and only wish is to remove the times when im not
that’s strong person, the times when all I want is to lie down and not exist.
Next time somebody tells you they have depression, bipolar
or whatever don’t judge them. There are reasons behind what makes people what
they are, and how they live their life. No two people will be the same. These people much like myself don’t want pity
they just want an open hand and most of all an open heart to feel good and make
life worth living. Life is hard for most of us, but harden when you suffer with
problems like long term depression.
I wont be adding other posts, I will leave it as just the
one. From time to time I will pop back and fill in gaps, edit and expand all my
sections.
