Grieving
This is a story . . a story about me . . and my family.
When I was a little girl I was loved, my mum was a lovely healty mum and we'd bake and play together. My brothers were typical older brothers not wanting to play with their baby ister but had to take her fishing etc all the same. My dad .. my dad was the best, he created a world of make believe of fantasy of dragons and fairies and beasts, when I was scared of the dark he gave me a box of figures and medals and told me how they would come alive and fight off any monsters that would come a try to get me. Things however did not carry on like this. My mother became ill and found she had kidney failure and many years later is starting to deteriorate and will eventually die (within the next few years). My brother are still lovely but they have their own lifes and their own worries and I barely see them. My dad . . My dad is dead. My dad was killed. My dad was killed by all the ugly things in the world. My dad was a paedophile. When my mother was away getting her life saving kidney transplant he was abusing me. My mother came home and I told her some very odd things but didnt seem to know what they meant or remember anything. Things like I would be the last to go to bed and I was the youngest, We watched adult films even though I was 8, I had a lot more baths when I didnt need them and the worst was I was very sore 'down there'. My mother took me to the doctors and our MALE doctor examined me. I still dont like the feel of latex glooves on my skin . . or doctors. My mother found others, family members who this had happened to. Everyone in our small town seemed to know but hadnt told my mother. I still dont really remember, only things like he would always kiss me on the lips and I always wiped my mouth afterwards because I didnt like it. Anyway zoom forward from 8 to 15, my mother hits me and my brothers and sometimes with slippers/canes/wooden paddles she does this because she has a bad temper, she does this because she is on steriods and other meds, she does not do this all the time maybe once in a few months, she does not do this because she doesnt love us. I have a fight with my mother and in a very teenager sort of way decide that I will not tollerate this anymore and runaway. I get a bus to my dads (my parents have been divorced since I was 8, oh and my mums seeing someone, his name is gordon) My dad is not in but my cousin lives down the street. My mother finds me and drags me to the car by my hair arguing with my cousin, she yells at my cousin something about if my dad cared about me why did he abuse me. I am in shock, I get in the car and all the way home I can only sit and let silent tears run down my face, I dont even know why I'm crying. After this I cant settle I get into trouble at school, hang out with the wrong people, I am being bullied but have no one to talk to. I get very depressed and nearly a year afterwards I take a load of pills and end up having to go to hospital. I get on with my life and leave school find better friends and try to get on with my life. I go to uni, met a boy who only wanted to sleep with me because I was a virgin and made me feel used and dirty and like I was completely ... in bed as I had felt when I was 15, as I still sometimes feel. then I meet a man and fall in love, he loves me too, he makes me feel special and like I am worth being loved. I move in with boy, buy a house together, be happy. However I still miss my dad, I still love my dad. My dad died. He was killed. He was killed by all the ugly things in the world. A man name patrick abused me when I was little. I man named patrick hurt me. A man named patrick hurt my mother. I think sometimes I hate patrick but most of the time I feel nothing. I dont feel complete. I dont seem to feel like me, I feel like I'm always pretending, like I dont even know who I am. I'm scared and frightened. I push the man away too scared in case our happiness ends, I plan to escape but never do because life would be too painful without him. I hope that I will be ok. But at least I dont feel guilty any more I feel free more free than I have for years but I cant shake the insecurity. I wrote this to just get it out there. I wrote this to maybe help others, but mostly I wrote this to get some advise. Thank you for reading. The end
| 
