Where would you begin if you were telling people your life story? Would you tell them all the bad details or just a quick overview of the main achievements? Well i have to start at the very beginning this is my journey and i will deal with all of my demons. I should have dealt with a lot of things differently and now i am going to try and overcome my issues and circumstances and find my happiness.
1993 a great year. The Barbie Liberation Organisation, or BLO, switched voice boxes on talking G.I Joes and Barbie dolls to question gender stereotypes.People everywhere fell in love with Tom Hanks in sleepless in Seattle. 'Curtains' were the go-to hairstyle for guys and The X-Files was making everyone a believer. Most importantly for this tale,I was born. March 21st 1993; Mothers day that year.
My family was ready made before i arrived. My Mom had just married my Dad and i had a half sister from my moms previous relationship. Not too shaky a start you might say, pretty normal. That is probably what tiny Me thought as well. We lived in Germany which was where my Army Dad was based and I'm told it was nice. However we moved back to the UK when i was under 2 so the story i remember begins in Manchester around '95.
My house was a typical red brick council house on a long avenue. The area wasn't particularly bad at that time. My Sister and i shared a room probably because we wanted to there was 3 rooms... guess i'm unsure on that. Anyway the spare room was for ironing, not tiny people. When we moved here my Dad bought himself out of the Forces and worked as a security guard , my Mom was a care nurse. One did days the other did nights. Me and my Sister entertained ourselves we quickly learn't life was something we had to fight through and parents would become distant lessons rather that people we cherished and respected.
I have a very cracked memory of my childhood. Mostly because Iv'e tried to forget it, what I have found is that the more you try and suppress things the more they eat you up from the inside. When i was around three y/o i remember my sister dragging me upstairs and under our bunk beds. She said it was a game.It wasn't a game i enjoyed. My Father followed us upstairs and pulled me out from under the bed. Seems I had messed up.Have you ever been hung upside down by your legs over the stair banister?Let me tell you now it is not fun. It also does not convey any message.All i remember from that day is becoming scared of my Dad , this monster who told me if i mess up again i will be dropped from the top. Nurses at A&E never believed the excuses, not when we had giant bruises or a broken arm but we had no proof to back us up we were small children. Who would believe us over a professional military man? After Dad cheated a few times and was taken back a few times i think it began to dawn on my Mom what kind of person this man really was. Controlling, vindictive and cruel. A man who made it known to me at 6 y/o that if i misbehaved he had a loaded handgun in his pack and wouldn't hesitate to use it. So as you would expect a long divorced ensued. We both told our Mom what had been going on, the verbal, physical, mental and sexual abuse and she vowed never to have him back again; which to her credit she didn't. She was heavily pregnant at the time with my little brother so making that decision cannot have been easy. This was when i first learnt it is better to be lonely than alone in a relationship.
For some reason i am still unsure of till this day a custody battle ensued. The thing i remember most about this time is that we had this Welfare Officer who used to come round, I guess it was when the adults were talking business, she brought the most fantastic felt tip pens to keep me and my sister distracted. Magic Makers i think, they changed colour. We made bunting and pictures to hang in the babies room. My Dad got supervised visits. We had to go to this weird church place for visits which was insanely morbid and had a blue neon cross on the wall. The vicar looked like he was floating and my Dad played with the baby the whole time anyway. I didn't really go much after that. Visits with him became far and few he relocated with the forces again and lived down south with his mistress.
Was i affected by this? Obviously yes but the damage is becoming clearer the older i get.As an adult i know my Dad must have had many issues of his own and i hold no resentment. However i will never understand or like the man who began ruining my life before i even had any choice on the matter. Aren't parents mean't to biologically love you?? He never loved me and i will never let him even brush by my heart because he already broke that up when he treated me like a rag doll instead of his precious firstborn child.
Its been a long day... it is 3:19 am and i haven't slept in two days. I hope after this next few weeks i begin to feel lighter. I want to feel 23, not 90!
Goodnight.
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