It terrifies me. Truly it does. The possible answer that will make me feel whole and well again. Makes me think I don’t have what it takes. I hate seeing these kind of negative statements and knowing I have typed them. I want to get back to writing and doing what is in my blood.
In my non blog life I have gone down the volunteer route. I have been inching myself further to a place where I truly belong and can reach my full potential . Bring it on ‘Healthy minds’ and ‘Hope’. I am terrified but I will give you all my passion and determination to make a difference.
Expectations scare me. I feel I have an enormous amount of drive and passion to give, but I’m scared that when it comes to facing the people that are making a difference I will be cast out and not be of much use at all. I don’t just want to be a service user -I want to be working in services and getting shit done. I haven’t been about to blog or type much about my thoughts at all this past week. I’ve got so much to tell you. I can go on about an abortion I had and how it all came about. I can tell you I have self harmed myself since as long as I can remember. Drugs. loads of experiences there. I could tell you about my tales with the Nigerians, or the police officer who saved me from the Nigerian drug dealers. Or being so out my mind and waking up in a place I don’t know with some one using my body, in the same way I could see the women on the TV. being used. Degrading porn. I could tell you about living in squalor with various drug dealers and living in luxury and 5*** hotels. All geared up to turn me into a prostitute.
I could tell you about the ‘crack room’ and the crack grooming and how a Lady who had become a prostitute, over dosed and was lumped on the junk heap like a discarded used condom. I can tell you about the police captain that tried to bribe me with money for sexual favours. I can tell you about what living like an Anorexic and heavy 30 pill a day mandrax addict for over two years, isolated form my family and friends, felt like. I can tell you about the various people even drug dealers who tried to help me. This life style was never for me. I can tell you about living in hospitals for months on end being fed to put on weight. I can tell about having a person watch you and be at your side 24/7 for months on end is like.
I can tell you about the guilt I feel over being sexually abused or raped numerous times from the age of 5 up until recent years. I can tell you about my upbringing and what it felt like. I don’t like to talk about my Mom or Dad for fear of upsetting them with my thoughts of what I felt like as a child. I know life is hard and I can’t blame anyone. I can tell you when I started cutting myself , overdosing and starving myself. Taking laxatives. Wanting to see 0 kgs on the scale. I can tell you how I have tried to fit in but never felt able. I can tell how I have always felt just that little bit on guard and distant with everyone. A bit off the radar of accepting societies boundaries.
I can tell you about violence felt at a young age and I can tell you about history repeating itself and being in a violent relationship with multiple levels of abuse. I can tell you about fighting a institutional system to get my child back in my care. I can tell about lies, failure, deceit and family secrets that can never be told. I would be cast aside by my family. I will! I can tell you about me at this present moment that I am pushing to make my uncle admit he is a serious alcoholic and if he doesn’t he has to go on the streets. I shouldn’t be ‘betraying’ my family with what I write. Why must others shame be my betrayal? None of these experiences I have mentioned are happy so for now I can’t post this…. I must balance this out.
TWO MONTHS LATER…..
So, why don’t I write about this>
I’ve had this as a draft for months now.
Don’t want pity.. I want to talk about the good things in life too. How life is today. My beautiful daughter is the poster advertising all that I have done right in this world. I worry that I won’t be heard ,but then I think how did I get a blog and people to like what I had to write in the first place. I wrote and it happened. So what do I have to do to continue to feel understood? I must write. No more fear about what I have to say.
Blogging is the greatest diary of them all. If I carry on thinking my posts are not important, then I will never write again! I will never know what happens if I push myself further and further. It’s too easy to stay in my comfort zone.. I don’t do easy- not even on a Sunday morning…
So in time I will post about all these experiences and more and then I will feel free to write about all the positives too. Maybe then my thoughts will grow quieter. Less dark and sombre..
there is only one way to find out…..
silver linings and all that …
Quick – change topic- something merrier, perhaps?
Doesn’t it suck that I’m not looking forward to Christmas?