Acceptance

Wednesday 6th of March 2019 – Diary

Trigger Warning

This post discusses the outcomes for a person recovering from incest, sexual abuse and other forms of trauma.

Today I would like to share why I am accepting my current position relating to how often I see my son.

I know that some will accuse me of giving up fighting for what is right. For abandoning him – my son.

I grew up in the Northern Irish care in the 1980’s and first half 1990’s. Life at that time was extremely difficult because of the ‘Troubles’.

Child abuse was a taboo subject. We know that it is happening but looked the other way, it is better for the child to be with the family.

Brief history of me:

I was put into care because of incestous abuse by my father, mother, they had severe alcohol problems. Both parents had differnt multiple partners. Life was hell.

I was brought into care aged 5 years and 10 months. One of my father’s girlfriends broke my nose. I can’t remember the circumstances, but I will probably reveal it when I finally get therapy.

In care, my half sister who is around 8 years older, kept raping me for 6 years. Staff saw it happening but I can’t remember if any action was taken. The abuse only stopped when she was too old to be in the home.

From the age of seven my ‘mother’ came and saw me four times a year. Then suddenly from the age of 10 she stopped contacting me. I kept making excuses for why she would do such a thing.

The staff at the home would say her faults and I would get angry. My expectation was for her (‘Mother’) to be there. The outcome for the next years was very self destructive. It has damaged me beyond words can express.

I was yearning for the person who brought me in to this world to love me. At the family get together’s, (in the children’s home) my half sister would be angry with ‘Mother’. This would upset me.

Fast forward to I am 17 years old, living on the streets of London. Begging. Cold. Angry. Now I understood her anger. I began becoming angry at that woman ‘called’ my mother.

I am now 39 years old. I have never had proper counselling. My son is 8. Has learning difficulties and has language delay, his educational age is about 3 or 4.

I have come to terms with the Family Courts decision to allow me two contacts a year, one letter to him a year and to have one photograph of him a year.

My Mental Illnesses has lead me to make stupid choices, selfish decisions and potential reckless consequences on me and potentially for him.

Do I want to damage him? Do I want to make a decision that could harm his future? Do I want to cause him truma that he too needs psychiatric treatment which he will never over come?

I have no control over my emotions. I fear the harm it could lead to. I find it difficult to think before I speak, act before I do and cope with the emotions afterwards. I can come to terms of the impact on me, my actions, I am responsible for them. See my post on my Mental Health Diagnosis:
https://takaflightorfight.com/2019/03/10/mental-health-diagnosis/

Finally, I could do nothing and continue leading a sad and miserble life or I could fall into addiction and make my life more hell. Or I can accept what has happened, understand why things have happened and not make the same mistake again.

Having EUPD (Emotionally Unstabled Personality Disorder) and a few other things is painful. I grasp at everyone I meet to have friendship. Then in the next moment I am scared, will they reject me because I am desperate to be loved?

I wanted to share this because I know some people have been abandoned by their parents/siblings and are struggling to understand why. Some are considering finding them.

I find it extremely difficult to connect with men because of the fourteen years of sexual abuse by Christian Brothers and the Catholic Church.

Movement

Interview

Interview

You stop me ask me my name
I tell you
You ask my age
I tell you
Your reply "aren't you a bit young to be on the streets"
"No" is my reply
Why you ask
"It's cos of what I have done, what I've went through"

"Tell me
What do you mean?"
"Leave me, leave me
Let me live my life, my life, not your life.
I dont want to go through:"

"Interview of Pain
Interview of Hurt
Interview of Sadness
Interview of Rejection
Interview of Memories"

I don't want a bed for life
I just want to rest for a while
So what's all these questions.
When I'm told I've to high of support needs,
I go "what do you fucking mean?"
What am I meant to do?
I don't want to go through that interview.

This poem was written when I was homeless in 1999,
I had been homeless for over four years in Central Loondon and could not get anywhere to stay.