Reaching Out

Its that time again! Sleep is for the Weak has once more posted a weekly writing workshop and here is my effort! I chose prompt 5.

I'm not afriad anymore. Well, i am. I am absolutely petrified. But i cannot go on the way i have been.

For those who read my blog you will know 2 things: a, its very depressing to read haha, and b, im making an awful lot of changes right now.

You see, I was abused as a child. I have tried to deal with it previously, but i never seemed ready. Or i was too scared. I have seen three counsellors in the past, and i just couldnt connect to any of them. I felt like i was being judged every time. I didn't feel comfortable.

And for me thats a huge thing - needing to feel comfortable, to feel safe. It was a family member who abused me. Both my parents knew what he was like and still let him into our home. I have a lot of anger inside me, anger i am too afraid to show.

It has took me 16 years to get to where i am now. Still a mess, but stumbling along through life, trying to keep my head above water. I dont want to be me anymore. I dont want to wake up in the morning with tears in my eyes and a knot of anxiety in my stomach. I want to be the happy girl i used to be as a child, the confident little madam who was afraid of nothing, energetic, outgoing...

I don't want to be afraid anymore.

It's time for me to reach out.

Insulted

Today i have been more insulted and offended than i have ever been in my entire life.

Today i got accused of making up everything that had happened to me, that it was all a scheme.

I burst into tears to which i promptly got the response - "those tears won't work on me!"

Those tears were not for you.
Those tears were for all the pain i have endured because of the abuse i suffered as a child.
Those tears were for all the times i had self harmed because i have been unable to deal with said abuse.
Those tears were for the suicide attempts that i attempted becuase i could not deal with said abuse.
Those tears were for my family, and the pain that we have endured together because of the said abuse.
Those tears were for all the other people like me, who, for fear of recompence, do not report their abuse, and suffer in silence.
Those tears were for the fear i have inside me that people will judge me, and have done, and will continue to do so.
Those tears were real tears.

Do not DARE to suggest i would make something like this up. For this is not a life i would have chosen.

Thats all i have to say, for it is all i can say.

The Real Life Mrs Weasley

My best friends mother is a star. As Drew aptly put it last night – she is the real life version of Mrs Weasley. If you’re hungry, she will feed you. If there is something you want, she will have it, and if she doesn’t she would get it for you...

So imagine my surprise when I turned up to collect the ‘couple’ of items I was told she had for me…

The contents of Jeans kitchen, is now in mine. I swear, the amount of stuff she gave me, I must have everything she owns for surely there wasn’t anything left over! There was a bin, a washing up bowl, a brand new iron, towels, glasses, cutlery, a fruit bowl, mugs, coffee and tea jars, a tray, lamp shades, a small round table to sit your drink on, a toilet brush, a toilet roll, a bar of soap (special soap because my skin is ‘funny’ haha bless her)… There were so many things she gave me I don’t actually know what there was for the bin is still full of items wrapped in newspaper I have yet to unpack. But the most surprising item? A plant. A random thing to offer I thought. Do you need this? How about that? Or this? Do you want a plant?

Um… sure?

So there were four of us to carry all these items to my flat from my friends house which is about a five minute walk. But not to Mrs Weasley… Apparently it’s a mile away! “Oh lordy you’ll never manage it!” God I love her haha =)

My brother could manage to lift the bin full of items with one hand but Mrs Weasley still insisted on taking some items out and dishing them out in bags to make them easier to carry. She loaded us all up with items, asking if I was coming for dinner tomorrow, then ushered us out the door.

If you could only have seen the sight of us… My friend had two bulging carrier bags full of breakables, my brothers girlfriend more breakables, my brother wrestling with the bin in one arm and brandishing the little table as a weapon in the other… and me? Under one arm I had a washing up bowl, and under the other, my new plant. Together, we looked like we had just pillaged the local village and left with everything except the electronics.

Off we toddled up to my flat, off loaded all the stuff, and laughed. I think I actually need a bigger kitchen I have so many items for it! It was a lovely evening though, and it’s made me realise just how wonderful people can be, and how generous people can be.

Thank you Mrs Weasley! Now every time I step into my kitchen I will think of my friend, and his wonderful family, and how lucky I am to have stayed friends with him for so long and how I hope to stay friends with him for many years to come.

Drew, you shall now be known as Ronald.

I have named my plant Ginny.

Busy Busy!

Wow, so busy, I can’t believe it is Monday again already!

I have now officially signed the tenancy for my flat and have the keys! Woohoo! I’m a little annoyed at the moment though… as the keys were available from last Monday I have to start paying rent from then – even though I didn’t sign the tenancy agreement till Thursday, even though the gas wont be switched back on till this Thursday coming, even though I cant move in till the place has been heated up and aired out because its been empty for a few months… Grr! But oh well! I shall be writing a lovely letter to the council with my view and see what they say as it never hurts to try and get a discount or what not!

I still don’t have a cooker or a washing machine, but I’m not too worried. My cooking skills mostly rely on a microwave and a toaster, both of which I have been given so all shall be well! Failing that, once I move I’ll be five minutes away from a chip shop, five minutes away from a Chinese, five minutes from my best friends house and five minutes from my brothers house! I’ve already warned them I’ll be round every night with my tin of beans or what not, asking for it to be heated up please please thank you very much!

I cannot afford to buy carpets! At least, not at the moment. I’m still trying to figure out my budget and find out what I can and cannot afford which is really difficult to do when you are just estimating costs. I wont truly know what my outgoings will be till I move in and start using stuff and, well, living! Who needs carpets anyway? Polish the floorboards, beg a fancy rug off someone – simples! And fashionable too, apparently.

I still need to sort out a tv licence, apply for working tax credits, contact the water board, send in my council tax form… So many things to remember!

In other news, I have remade contact with my step-mother and father. Well, technically speaking, they made contact with me, at least, my step mother did. After a few heated text messages she wrote me a letter, which wasn’t what I was expecting at all. It was… nice. There wasn’t any animosity at all, it was just a nice, here’s what I’ve been doing, hope you’re okay kind of letter. So I replied with a here’s what I’ve been doing of my own, and I actually felt good for writing it, for making that contact with them. There is so much history between us, sometimes it’s hard to really know where I stand with them. I feel so awkward when I shouldn’t, I get anxious for no reason, it makes no sense to me. Hopefully I’ll be able to understand it and work through it with the therapy I am doing.

I came home last night to another letter from my step mother in response to the one I had wrote her. And another letter. From my dad. It was a congratulations on your new home card, and in my dads scruffy writing all it said inside was “all our love and best wishes, love dad and Anne.”

I cried. I cried harder than I have done for a while for that card meant so much to me. My dad had made an effort. My dad was thinking of me. My dad wanted me to know he was thinking of me.

I shall treasure that card and it will take pride of place in my new flat. Once I buy a shelf for it to sit on that is!

Tis the season...

To be jolly? *sigh* I need a sharp drink of the Christmas spirit. I'm just stressing about the whole occasion!

My last three Christmasses have been awful. And i mean awful. There has been fights there has been tears... Far too many tears. I just want this year to be different.

But i fear it wont.

I will be alone on Christmas day. Well, i think my mum will be home but i think she is going to her brothers for dinner. So just like last year, i shall be alone, sitting in front of the telly watching endless repeats i have seen countless times before. Last year i went to bed at 7.30pm. I so want this year to be different.

On a plus, at least the decorations have been put up more than two days before Christmas day! Progress!

I wont be seeing Ben till the 27th. Which sucks so much. Being around him completes me, and i just feel lost and broken when we are apart. It won't feel like Christmas without him by my side.

I haven't spoken to my father since February. Not because we have had a huge falling out or anything, we just haven't spoke. Our relationship has always been a little awkward. I think he doesn't love me and hates me as a daughter - he thinks i hate him and dont want him to be my father. Which couldnt' be further from the truth. All i have ever wanted is for him to be my father, to act like my father, and to show that he loves me. It takes two to tango but i always feel i have been dancing alone... all he had to do was pick up the phone. Just once. Say hi, ask how i am. Show an interest. I just want my daddy to love me for who i am.

I would love nothing more for him to phone me on Christmas day and wish me seasonal greetings. I don't know if i am strong enough to make the effort this time. He needs to make the move this time around. I just can't do it anymore.

And i still have only brought one preasant! OMG why have i left things so late! I can't afford anything i dont have the time to go shopping and i dont know what to buy and im sooooo stressed!

Why do i do this to myself!? Why do i get so stressed and worry about everything!? Christmas should be fun, stress free. Happy. A time for family.

*sigh*

I depress myself. Meh! =/