In the beginning...

I am unsure why I am starting this blog. Maybe it is because I want people to know my story. Or, because I want others to know that they are not alone no matter how dark their present is. It could be that I am sick of hiding the darker parts of who I am and my history for fear of judgement and shame.
Failing all that perhaps it is because I am an angry bitter cow who seeks a place to vent anonymously.

Well.... let us begin.

I have always known I was 'different' from everyone else. The facts that led to this conclusion include;
*seeing dead people
*hearing dead people
*knowing things about the living and the dead that I shouldn't know
*waking up at 3 years old with this hideous creature sat on my bed watching me

As a child you can imagine this was fucking frightening- hearing and feeling other people's secret thoughts and feelings. Not a very nice ability.

I also used to see fairies, talk to trees and later on to spell cast and do readings for people. So as I continue all this to this day, that has not changed.

My family made my life hell as a child. From the time I can remember after my dad died (I must have been about 4) my mother drank. She really drank.
She could polish off easily several bottles of gin and vast amounts of wine. Her preferred tastes included but not limited to;
*liebframilch
*blue nun
*hock
*jacobs creek

Even to this day I cannot bear the smell or taste of wine.
She would drink herself into oblivion the times she wasn't working and this was when she would beat me. She encouraged my older brother to hit me and he did frequently, and while I was picking myself up the pair of them would be sat there laughing at me.

Later I would learn that my brother had been taken from my mother and placed with his non biological father after a massive mental breakdown which is a reason why she drank.

I thought being beaten and told that I shouldn't have been born was quite normal and started to suppress my abilities, learning to love my books instead of my family. I guess this is a reason why I still don't believe I am loveable.
When I was 6 my mother threw me out into the street. She was pissed as a fart (nothing unusual) and I spent that night sleeping under a car in the golf course. My neighbour found me and took me back. This was to be a common routine.

I was badly bullied at school. All the way through to high school. They all knew I was a weirdo too as did my so called family.
What made everything so much worse is the fact that my mother would leave me with her ex husband (my brothers non biological father- my brother didn't know this yet) who was a convicted paedophile and who had groomed my own mother from when she was 12. (Another reason she drank).

He got me a bed for his room and I was forced to stay there 3 nights a week.
He really couldn't help himself. Me, being a young , very naive and feeling worthless already child, he had a field day abusing me. He never threatened me though. He always bought me presents after and gave me money.
He was still very much in love with my mother and until the day he died I still believe this which makes it even more fucked up.

To top off more feelings of worthlessness one of his mates (with my mothers permission) took me for a walk and I ended up in his van with him abusing me also. He tried to rape me but couldn't in the end. He gave me money and told me not to tell anyone.

I did however tell my mother. She did nothing and told me to get over it.

This continued until I started high school.
I refused outright to stay at the paedos flat so I stayed on my own at home at night which was a welcome relief.

I hated high school. Was beaten up there constantly. Nobody ever seemed to want to do anything about it however. I've still got problems with my ankles and knees due to the pastings with crow bars I received.
In fact the hospital knew who I was as I was always in there lol.

I started to rebel at this point. Started drinking and smoking and dating older guys.
I figured that since nobody gave a fuck neither would I.
I dyed my hair crazy colours, wore crazy clothes.
Tried to figure out who the fuck I was under all this shit that I was constantly being told I was.

Mother dearest was busy shagging men from the classified ads in the local newspaper at this time so for a long while I would come home to her on the sofa spread eagled with her latest conquest.

But she did start dating a guy seriously who was a con artist and all 3 of his kids had done prison time. His daughter was a vile slag and was obsessed with her dad and had been done for GBH. His eldest son was addicted to weed and would steal from chemists to pay for it while on the dole and his youngest son was a heroin addict and was always in and out of her majesty's pleasure for armed robbery and drug dealing.
They all hated me as did my own brother.
Watching them all do drugs and drink and abuse my pissed up mother was a barrel of laughs.

I remember thinking is this really normal watching one of them shooting up on my 12th birthday in front of me into his groin.

I walked out of high school in year 10. Told them to fucking shove it because I had had enough after the boy i was sat with decided to be a complete and utter prick and yet again the teachers did nothing.

I never went back.

This is when life began for me. 😀
College at 15 was a heady experience and I learnt that I was likeable and made so many friends some of which I am still bloody good friends with today.
I learnt how to drink, party and do stupid stuff. Was always out clubbing after this just to stay away from home.

During this period my mother was still being a complete slag and during a drunken argument decided to tell my brother that the guy who he had been placed with (my abuser) was not his dad.
Well.
That was a Jeremy Kyle moment.

This was all my fault as well. Apparently my mere existence made my mother drop her knickers and screw this other guy. (My brother is 6 years older then me)

Somehow (I still don't know how) I passed my exams with all this shit going on.
The amount of times I had to clean the house up after another of my mothers drunken suicide attempts where she smashed everything up as well as herself and me.
The amount of police raids we had due to all the drugs hidden at home.
The violence, the abuse..... I remember chucking all the cocaine and pills out because everyone was so fucked off their face they couldn't do it.

This was my childhood.

I became a Wiccan at 15 and began to learn spells and shit. I began to embrace my faith and the love I have of nature and animals is still as strong today. My faith ended up saving me from complete despair during each beating I got.

I might be an empath and a psychic but fuck me I wish I wasn't sometimes. I feel totally off this planet a lot and am never truly here.

I don't understand why people do such horrible terrible things to each other when they are capable of such love and wonder. It frazzles my brain.

When I got into my first serious relationship at 16 with the biggest love of my life I was always at his parents just to stay away from home.
I ended up pregnant however and on Boxing day I had a miscarriage at work due to my mothers boyfriend threatening to shoot me with his gun.

I had a massive mental breakdown at 17 and tried to kill myself by throwing myself in front of a train.
The father fucked me off and wanted nothing to do with me.
I ended up being given a new label instead of weirdo. Now it was clinically depressed, given a ton of tablets and told to take time off work.

My mother told me again to get the fuck over it.
This would have been her first grandchild and she told me to get the fuck over it!!!

I never have gotten over it but I eventually learned to live with it.
My mother is also psychic, however she always abused her gift and made messes for everyone around her.

My relationship with her was pretty awful. She was always kicking me out. Final straw came when I turned up after work found all my belongings outside in the rain with a note saying "fuck off you cunt you are dead to me. "

I ended up moving in with the ex and his parents. But... he was a bastard and would speak to me so badly and play games even his parents intervened.

I wondered often what I had done to deserve all this. I mean, in normal families this stuff NEVER happens. So why me?

I ended up moving to North Wales soon after. I couldn't stand it anymore and was afraid for my sanity. I could feel myself snapping.

I met my daughter's dad not long after and fell pregnant rather quickly!! It didn't work out however as he didn't understand anything about me and I guess I was still finding myself and being a mother.
He turned out to be an utter cunt anyway but I will leave that for another time.

I love my daughter. I can't imagine never being here to support her and love her and care for her. It makes me very sad and confused as to why my own mother never protected me, and abused me emotionally and physically all my life and allowed others to sexually abuse me also.
I just don't know how you can have children and not care for them.

I guess the point of this post is for me to try and make some sense of my past, and to anyone who does read this and relates to it please, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.