Hey guys I'm back with a tale to tell, it's dark and the deepest part of me, I am apprehensive to write this on a blog but hey if you want my truth, you can have it.
So I previously mentioned in my first post I was running from a disaster, I didn't think I'd struggle today writing this because through my teen years I spoke to a lot of women who have had the same experience as me but I have never wrote that in words what happened, so this is new for me.
We will start with the basics, 9 years old, my dad left home, I have no memory of that, I just knew I had no father figure which in a way I guess I was a young girl that craved for a father figure to be around, as a kid there was a missing part even now, but that's for another blog.
One day and the most vivid memory I can remember, my mum came home and I introduced me and my siblings (older brother and twin sister) to someone dark and now to this day the vision of his face, smell and cough remains in my memory.
The arguments, the drinking, drugs and violence was too much, too much for 3 young kids to recover from.
There was one day, the worst of all them all, my mum woke up and the night before was horrendous, me and my twin sister in a room shaking and scared at the screaming from the next room but nothing we could do. So helpless and traumatized.
My mum came down stairs the next morning and her face was bruised, red and bleeding. This dark disgusting person in our life had bitten my mum's cheek, to the point, there was a bite mark, you can still see from this day. This was the animal we was dealing with.
The same day my mum reached out for help from our remaining family, they told her she had a choice, Him or us. - and that was our family faded forever. I couldn't possibly blame my mother for that. When you're in an abusive relationship 5 years deep and no job it's hard to let go, the stability of providing her children a good life was there and she didn't want to be taken from us, so he stayed. Again...
And this time I started to notice things not being right, I was just growing up in to a young women and learning new things, picking up on everything and talk about sex.
When it came to my attention I had been asked (when my mum went to work) to go for a cuddle every Saturday with this dark character, his name gives me the creeps, even to this day.
He touched me in places I wasn't even aware of and it went on for months until I got older and sussed him out. My innocence was taken and out of my control.
I was too scared to say anything to anyone, I kept it quite for years but distanced myself to the point where I would never be in his presence but even that was a challenge.
I'd cry and cry. Always questioning when this nightmare would be over, luckily we had a dog at the time called Ziggy, a big black and brown Doberman, who was my best friend and was always there for me on the worst of days, he knew. My beautiful little doggy in doggy heaven was my rock through my childhood years.
I begin to shed a tear, Ziggy was my world.
Talking is healing, maybe writing about it is too.
The isolation got intense, I'd get home from school, lock myself in my room with the bed up against the door and cry myself to sleep, until dinner was called. I would scurry downstairs to grab my plate and ran back upstairs. I'd be in my room all night but in our house the walls were so thin I'd cover my ears as I heard him in the toliet, cms' from my bedroom door, cringing through the walls and hating every breathe he took.
The intense Isolation got worse, for weeks on end, until my mum banged on my door one day... 'WHAT IS WRONG?!' my mum began to shout... 'are you being bullied?' I answered 'no'. 'has someone hurt you' I said 'no'. 'is it Paul?'... No answer.
'OPEN THE DOOR' ...
I came off my bed in floods of tears and pulled my bed away from the door and opened it. My mum sat on my bed and said 'has he done something to you?' I said 'yes'. My mum grabbed my arm and marched me out of the house where we walked around the block and sat on a curb. She said, tell me everything Emma.
Everything was a blur until she told me to wait on the curb. My mum went back to the house and told him to leave.
He was gone within 10 minutes and I could breathe, my nightmare was over.
My mum throwing up all evening and shaking. It was yet to be a long recovery, it hasn't ever found its peace, to this day 28 years old. My family are distant than ever, holding on to once what was our nightmare.
Someone once said to me, how can you be so positive and happy. I replied I've seen darkness , I've been at my worst and nothing will ever compare to my childhood. As I get older I stop talking about my life as child because it doesn't need to mentioned. It is the deepest part of me but now I'm in a place where I'm living my life to be free and happy and the past is the past and that's where it belongs.
Talk soon, happier blogs to come ❤️
Emma xo