For me this is the hardest part to write, but I know I have to get it out in order to, hopefully, relieve some of the burden through the years. I am not good at talking about things face to face and I would rather keep quiet about matters, but I find this has a more detrimental effect.
I think the way I am now is a definite result of past occurrences and I want this to change...I am not a bad person but I do know that I can be cold and hard work, Stubborn as a mule and can also sulk, I also would rather walk away than face upto a difficult situation in order to avoid a scene.
I hear people talk about their childhood and how they remember lots of good things, and I sit there quietly thinking I wish I could.
Growing up was hard for me as my parents had split up and all I remember about that is the numerous amounts of arguing over visiting periods and times, going to the park to play on the swings and then when getting home being sent to bed as I was late home.
One the biggest memories and probably most hurtful memories was going to court over which of my parents would get custody, and my mum threatening me to make sure I said her. How I wish I could rewind the clock and say "my dad".
On many occasions my arse was left bleeding from the belt buckle, seemed I didn't have to do much but open my mouth and I would get it, whilst bent over the settee...hence the reason I keep things bottled up now I suppose.
I remember some wood behind the dining table...I got to know that wood very well whilst my pants were pulled down and I was whacked numerous times with it...this was by my step dad and my mum did nothing to stop it or even tend to us afterwards.
I used to be sent to my room sometimes staying in there for hours and not even allowed tea, I was that scared to leave the room I used to pee in the corner of the room.
It wasn't just the room, but I used to wet the bed, which again led to another beating...I was given the name pissy pants by my mum and step dad. Wetting the bed occurred regularly...I couldn't control it.
We had to cook and clean and if it wasn't done right we was in trouble. I remember on numerous occasions when living down Sandringham Street, we had an out house which was like a tool shed and general dumping ground for rubbish which had to be cleaned out weekly. When I had this job it was great as I took my time and I also got to eat the food that had been chucked out, as I have previously said in this post there were times I was sent to my room with no food at all. Several times I even ate from the dog food tin when feeding the dog.
Whilst out and about either walking the stupid dog or spending hours going to shops, if I spotted food on the floor I would pick it up and eat it...as gross as it sounds...food was food. I even had to prepare food whilst not being allowed to eat and I used to sometimes pinch them joining parts from the breadcakes and quickly scoff them.
I had no one to talk to about this back then but my sister Zoe, as unfortunate for her, she was being treated the same. I remember Zoe running away a couple of times and I so wished I had done the same, but instead I got the beating for letting her go and not knowing where she was.
I remember being hit in the head, by my mum, with a tin of hairspray that she had asked me to look for in the cupboard under the sink, but because I couldn't find it she used it to split my head open!
Zoe had a fractured collarbone, after being swung around the kitchen and rammed into the cooker several times.
I would sit at the top of the stairs and wonder what it would be like if I just threw myself down them, The things I wanted to do just to get away from this place.
I had to wear scarfs in the summer to hide the hand marks around my throat, everytime something happened, we had to lie and say we tripped or something for fear of another beating.
I am 36 now and yet I still have bad dreams and recollections of this, which put me in a downer.
Just writing all this has made me stop and weep, more than once...does this make me weak?
I remember my uncle Andrew used to let me come down and sit with him if I was already in my room, when they had gone out for the night. It was great ...we even played games on the zx spectrum.
My cousin Yvonne who used to also babysit us was another legend, she used to secretly make us banana and custard. This woman used to like her toast burnt...strange woman lol. she also used to make some weird milkshakes.
I will add to this as and when I able to do so!
***This post has sections added to at random points***
I think the way I am now is a definite result of past occurrences and I want this to change...I am not a bad person but I do know that I can be cold and hard work, Stubborn as a mule and can also sulk, I also would rather walk away than face upto a difficult situation in order to avoid a scene.
I hear people talk about their childhood and how they remember lots of good things, and I sit there quietly thinking I wish I could.
Growing up was hard for me as my parents had split up and all I remember about that is the numerous amounts of arguing over visiting periods and times, going to the park to play on the swings and then when getting home being sent to bed as I was late home.
One the biggest memories and probably most hurtful memories was going to court over which of my parents would get custody, and my mum threatening me to make sure I said her. How I wish I could rewind the clock and say "my dad".
On many occasions my arse was left bleeding from the belt buckle, seemed I didn't have to do much but open my mouth and I would get it, whilst bent over the settee...hence the reason I keep things bottled up now I suppose.
I remember some wood behind the dining table...I got to know that wood very well whilst my pants were pulled down and I was whacked numerous times with it...this was by my step dad and my mum did nothing to stop it or even tend to us afterwards.
I used to be sent to my room sometimes staying in there for hours and not even allowed tea, I was that scared to leave the room I used to pee in the corner of the room.
It wasn't just the room, but I used to wet the bed, which again led to another beating...I was given the name pissy pants by my mum and step dad. Wetting the bed occurred regularly...I couldn't control it.
We had to cook and clean and if it wasn't done right we was in trouble. I remember on numerous occasions when living down Sandringham Street, we had an out house which was like a tool shed and general dumping ground for rubbish which had to be cleaned out weekly. When I had this job it was great as I took my time and I also got to eat the food that had been chucked out, as I have previously said in this post there were times I was sent to my room with no food at all. Several times I even ate from the dog food tin when feeding the dog.
Whilst out and about either walking the stupid dog or spending hours going to shops, if I spotted food on the floor I would pick it up and eat it...as gross as it sounds...food was food. I even had to prepare food whilst not being allowed to eat and I used to sometimes pinch them joining parts from the breadcakes and quickly scoff them.
I had no one to talk to about this back then but my sister Zoe, as unfortunate for her, she was being treated the same. I remember Zoe running away a couple of times and I so wished I had done the same, but instead I got the beating for letting her go and not knowing where she was.
I remember being hit in the head, by my mum, with a tin of hairspray that she had asked me to look for in the cupboard under the sink, but because I couldn't find it she used it to split my head open!
Zoe had a fractured collarbone, after being swung around the kitchen and rammed into the cooker several times.
I would sit at the top of the stairs and wonder what it would be like if I just threw myself down them, The things I wanted to do just to get away from this place.
I had to wear scarfs in the summer to hide the hand marks around my throat, everytime something happened, we had to lie and say we tripped or something for fear of another beating.
I am 36 now and yet I still have bad dreams and recollections of this, which put me in a downer.
Just writing all this has made me stop and weep, more than once...does this make me weak?
I remember my uncle Andrew used to let me come down and sit with him if I was already in my room, when they had gone out for the night. It was great ...we even played games on the zx spectrum.
My cousin Yvonne who used to also babysit us was another legend, she used to secretly make us banana and custard. This woman used to like her toast burnt...strange woman lol. she also used to make some weird milkshakes.
I will add to this as and when I able to do so!
***This post has sections added to at random points***
