Dear Diary,
Where do I begin? *Sighs* I feel like I'm losing myself, I feel like I just give up, no one understands, I'm so lost and can't pick myself up. God is so good to me and my boy, so many doors he opens up, but I let negativity inside my life it builds up and takes me over and BOOM! Before I know it I self destruct.
I feel like there is no one, NO ONE I can turn to for help and advice, I have many many things going on in my mind, it's like trafalgar square, trying to do so much, and then falling flat on my face.
Childhood is where I believe it started, I had that missing link a father, no sibblings around me just a loving mother, who was sweet kind and gentle and to this day still is.
But somehow, it was not enough, I missed my father.
Then school, not the best years of my life, bullying, name calling, isolation and loneliness. So I realised being smart was not the answer for me, but rather to fit in, I had to make others laugh as I felt awkward like a joke anyway. So if I made people laugh at me it was better than being laughed at. That would then cause me to get in with a different crowd who also felt like they didn't fit in, and they had a different culture to my christian penticostal home values, there comfort came inside a rolled up rizzla, music from the underground and a bottle of 'Thunderbirds'.
Then an intervention my father came to take me out of danger, not knowing it was too late, pier pressure had caused me to do all types of things for want, need of fitting in and finding a sense of belonging.
The things I esperienced from living rough, staying at friends houses and some frenemy houses could not be forgotten or forgiven, innocence had been foolishly given to the wolves, wolves in sheeps clothing.
By the time I would arrive in London, the anger that I thought would leave with a change of enviroment, a different city, would only be carried with me, masked by the delight of the bright lights of London.
London, a Welsh girl in London, to suddenly have people interested in me because of a different accent, I could be anyone I wanted to be no one would know me like the people who I left behind in Wales.
I was popular thought of as pretty, no name calling. I'd have my 1st job a job that brought in £258.00 every two weeks.
But then I met a different crowd, an older crowd of work colleagues who went out on the town on pay day, naivity of a 16 year old was I could do the same, but the concern of a father for my safety never crossed my mind, one night I got so drunk that I didn't go home all night and because I didn't want an ear bashing for being home after kurfew I slept on the front door of the flats. When I awaoke in the morning, I got the lacing of my life from my Dad and memories of that face were still raw, this being the face I saw when he would hit my Mum.
I decided to leave, it was then I met the father of my only child and beloved son.
Where do I begin? *Sighs* I feel like I'm losing myself, I feel like I just give up, no one understands, I'm so lost and can't pick myself up. God is so good to me and my boy, so many doors he opens up, but I let negativity inside my life it builds up and takes me over and BOOM! Before I know it I self destruct.
I feel like there is no one, NO ONE I can turn to for help and advice, I have many many things going on in my mind, it's like trafalgar square, trying to do so much, and then falling flat on my face.
Childhood is where I believe it started, I had that missing link a father, no sibblings around me just a loving mother, who was sweet kind and gentle and to this day still is.
But somehow, it was not enough, I missed my father.
Then school, not the best years of my life, bullying, name calling, isolation and loneliness. So I realised being smart was not the answer for me, but rather to fit in, I had to make others laugh as I felt awkward like a joke anyway. So if I made people laugh at me it was better than being laughed at. That would then cause me to get in with a different crowd who also felt like they didn't fit in, and they had a different culture to my christian penticostal home values, there comfort came inside a rolled up rizzla, music from the underground and a bottle of 'Thunderbirds'.
Then an intervention my father came to take me out of danger, not knowing it was too late, pier pressure had caused me to do all types of things for want, need of fitting in and finding a sense of belonging.
The things I esperienced from living rough, staying at friends houses and some frenemy houses could not be forgotten or forgiven, innocence had been foolishly given to the wolves, wolves in sheeps clothing.
By the time I would arrive in London, the anger that I thought would leave with a change of enviroment, a different city, would only be carried with me, masked by the delight of the bright lights of London.
London, a Welsh girl in London, to suddenly have people interested in me because of a different accent, I could be anyone I wanted to be no one would know me like the people who I left behind in Wales.
I was popular thought of as pretty, no name calling. I'd have my 1st job a job that brought in £258.00 every two weeks.
But then I met a different crowd, an older crowd of work colleagues who went out on the town on pay day, naivity of a 16 year old was I could do the same, but the concern of a father for my safety never crossed my mind, one night I got so drunk that I didn't go home all night and because I didn't want an ear bashing for being home after kurfew I slept on the front door of the flats. When I awaoke in the morning, I got the lacing of my life from my Dad and memories of that face were still raw, this being the face I saw when he would hit my Mum.
I decided to leave, it was then I met the father of my only child and beloved son.
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