A while ago I shut my old blog down because it wasn’t working for me at all. I did keep my posts though and today I came across this one from the very beginning.
The post lets you know why I write, what I’ll write about, where my inspiration stems from and why I’m just so messed up, although much better than I was.
My list of life experiences is very varied but, as you will find out and as I am beginning to realize, my experiences haven’t necessarily been ‘normal’. In fact, any one of my experiences on its own would be difficult to cope with and it would be hard to come through the other side unscathed. Having dealt with a variety of life-changing events I can honestly say I have absolutely no idea how I have got to where I am. Whilst experiencing various trials and tribulations I didn’t think what was happening was normal but I did think it was all just a bit of a blip which would even out soon. Before I knew it I was 32 and a complete dithering mess. Somebody once said to me “I really don’t know how you’ve coped for such a long time. Do you actually realize what has happened to you?” I didn’t, and possibly still don’t fully realize, but I am beginning to think that maybe my life has not been a completely ‘normal’ one and not everybody goes through everything that I have encountered in such a short space of time.
Fast forward a little while and here I am starting to write everything down. I’ve heard a lot of people say this, but genuinely and honestly if I can help one person to be able to cope with just one event that I’ve had to cope with any easier than I managed to cope with it, then I will feel good about writing and I will feel like it has mattered. Going through a single life-changing event is hard and throws up all manner of emotions and hurdles. Going through multiple life-changing events, often at the same time, is absolutely exhausting and consumes your entire being. If I can make you feel a little easier about something or feel even that you are not alone then that is great.
I cannot promise that writing this blog will be easy nor can I say that it will make for light and easy reading. It will, however, be open and honest and I have changed names where appropriate to respect those involved. I am not on a name and shame campaign. There will be funny and hilarious moments, sad and cringe-worthy moments and also moments where (as I did a lot) you may well have a little cry. Most of the topics I will cover are sensitive and difficult to understand. They certainly were to experience. So without further ado….
- I’ll write about my experiences of infertility, multiple miscarriages, Endometriosis and early menopause. How these affected my relationships with friends, family, work places and partners and also how I will always live with the ghosts of my babies.
- I’ll write of my early life growing up abroad and what it was like in the Middle East. Quite positive really but tainted by being separated from UK friends and family. Then, aged 10, I was completely on my own because I was sent to boarding school. It was here, and on two later occasions in life, that I was sexually abused and I now know it was also here that I lost my identity.
- I had a second boarding school experience in my mid-teens where I experienced more ‘normal’ behavior like severe bullying, skipping school, not even sitting my exams properly and I left at the first opportunity.
- My later teens were very turbulent. I found myself in two very abusive relationships, both physically and mentally, that took away any shred of me that was left. I couldn’t settle anywhere anymore which was a shame really because I did have a promising future as a nurse ahead of me. I was at uni and had a job as a carer but I dropped out, unable to cope.
- I moved around from place to place, even running away to a Greek island. Unfortunately, my demons followed me there so I came back but it was an experience I will always hold dear.
- When I though my run of bad luck had finally ended (I actually thought I was just unlucky), aged 21, I received a phone call when I was working to inform me my Dad was gravely ill. So I dropped everything and moved the 250 miles to help Mum and Dad. And 12 years later I am still helping to care for Dad and increasingly my Mother too. It just kind of happened that I never left. Unless you do this every day it is so hard to understand how excruciatingly heart-breaking it is to watch the snail-paced decline of a once strong, able, determined and intelligent man. Anything else he was or did ceases to matter.
- Looking after Dad is only half the story though because it didn’t have to be this way. It really didn’t! Out of the past 12 years, 7 were spent by Mum and I fighting a legal battle because Dad was mis-diagnosed. Had he been correctly diagnosed this part of my life would be so very different and so would Mum and Dad’s life too.
- Mid to late 20’s saw a quick romance lasting 7 years with a messy end to a marriage before meeting husband no.2. At last a happy ending (I actually said the ‘H’ word) however it has been a bit bumpy and my now ‘child-free’ outlook wasn’t without the want of trying with hubbie’s children to his previous wife. By this time, I was used to being unaccepted and unwanted – isn’t that how my life had been since an early age?
- Unsurprisingly I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and attend weekly counselling sessions and I would be completely lying if, at one point or another, I had not thought “what is the point?” I’m so socially awkward that I don’t go out a lot and anxiety attacks have been a regular occurrence. My perception of how I look and my overall opinion of myself is very low. I can’t maintain friendships, am on medication and have a struggle with myself to get through a day at times. But there is light at the end of this tunnel.
All these events in my life have inspired me to write. I write poems, short stories, non-fiction and am currently working on my first novel. I’m not going to lie, I’d love to get published, wouldn’t every writer, but it will be a long slog to get there – unless you’re a publisher reading this and would like me to write a book now. When I was in boarding school, I would write but I got bullied for that too and have also had friends and family members make me feel stupid for wanting to write.
I know I am still young but I have been through quite a lot for somebody my age. I do not ‘fit’ into any particular group of people. I am childless/childfree, young, a carer but not recognized as a carer because I am employed, infertile then menopausal, have been sexually, physically and mentally abused, have/had Endometriosis, had multiple miscarriages, belong to no circle of friends but know a lot of people, have very little family, am in full knowledge that I will be alone when I am old. What am I? I’m still finding out.