I realise I have left you guys for a couple of months – I think I just needed a break and I’m sorry. I plan on doing wayyyy more blogs now as everything is starting to head up now:)
In the last few months where I haven’t been here there has been a lot of stuff going on and I couldn’t function very well. I’ve got loads of things to tell you and it feels great to return home after a long getaway!
(Photo creds to <<here>> )
It wouldn’t make sense if I only told you what’s been going on with me for only the last few months, so I’m going to fully tell you my life story:
It all started when I was just 3 years old, and my mum bumped into a man named Peter. My mum used Peter and still uses him until this very day. Peter is around 83 years old, and mum is just turning 35 this July. (She had me at a young age, I’m not that young). Peter has a fair amount of money, which is why my mum hangs out with him. He has always paid for me and my sister’s school uniform, school shoes, school bags and basically anything we need or want. In my entire life I have only had 2 shopping trips where it was just my mum, my sister and I. All the others Peter “tagged along” when I knew and I think my sister knew was just because then he could pay for everything.
My dad always hated Peter (which I’m sure any dad would) and my mum and dad always had arguments about how mum brought Peter into me and my sister’s lives. When this happened my dad would always go to his sister’s house (my aunty) and stay there for the night. Eventually when I was 6 years old they broke up and went their separate ways, as they were totally different people at this point. My mum smokes drugs and now has taken up alcohol, and my dad doesn’t smoke and doesn’t drink heavily. I still remember the day that my mum and dad broke up, and it is a vivid image that will always stay in my mind:
”I saw a skinny tattooed man run down the stairs as quick as the wind. I then saw him kiss my mum when he went into the kitchen. I was confused as to why there was another man in the house that wasn’t my dad and certainly wasn’t just my mum’s friend. I thought nothing of it but my gut was telling me to call my dad. So I did. He drove back from work and pulled up by the side of the house. He knocked and tried to open the door. My mum in her pink dressing gown -that she’s still got to this day- blocked the door and wouldn’t let my dad in the cottage. He banged on the door and tried to kick it open but my mum is very strong and still held the door shut. I remember thinking, “this is all my fault.” I also remember seeing my dad’s big innocent eyes looking at me as he flapped open the letter box. I ran up to my bedroom that I shared with my sister and I climbed onto my pink bed. I cried and cried into my bumble bee pillow and I felt all alone now more than ever. Little did I know that this was the very beginning of my misery.”
From then on my dad moved out and lived at my Aunty’s house. At first my sister came with me to go back and forth to my dad’s and to my mum’s house. As my dad isn’t my sister’s dad, when my dad told her off she got annoyed and offended. She told mum who then stopped my sister from seeing my dad. I was then in it all alone this time. So it was just me, going back and forth and back and forth all the time.
My Aunty and my uncle then broke up. They were fighting all the time and my aunty now tells me that she pretty much knew that my uncle was cheating on her with her best friend -who are now engaged- and that’s one of the reasons why they broke up. My aunty’s dad (my grandad) always used to come around and we would have bbqs and fun days out all together. Now it was just me, again. So my sister had left, my aunty had left and my grandad had now left too. I wondered where everyone had gone. One minute we’re all at a theme park on scary rollercoasters and eating sour lollipops, and the next minute the house is empty and quiet. I knew deep down that all those fun days out with all of us were now just faint, happy memories.
It made sense that me and my dad moved out as everyone else had, so we made our way out of the front door and moved to a small flat, surprisingly owned by my uncle. We still live there even now. I remember coming in and seeing a smashed photo of my aunty and uncle (I would say their names but I won’t just for safety reasons) of them smiling and laughing as they swam in a really blue swimming pool. I was around 7 turning 8 years old now, and this was just a wake up call about how my great big happy family had now divided into 3 and how I was stuck in the middle of it all, and I didn’t know who the hell to choose. I loved them all so much. When I was over at one family, I would always miss the other. It was almost as if it was impossible to be happy.
Now a year later of going in between the families, I was in y5. At school it wasn’t the best. I had hit puberty, there was this one mean girl who made me feel self conscious of myself in general and I had lots of arguments with my mum and my sister. My sister was then turning into just a younger version of my mum. My mum used to hit her, but she would never dare to hit me as she was always scared of me going to live full time with my dad.
I started to have a really hard time at my mum’s and I realised just how different I am to my sister and my mum. So I decided to live full time at my dad’s and as soon as I told my mum she kicked me out. So I called my dad to come pick me up, and he did. As soon as I got home I received text messages from my mum saying I was two – faced and how I’m horrible and that I’m a liar. I blocked her and I now don’t speak to her. It’s been two months and she hasn’t tried to contact me – makes me think she’s forgotten me really. Anyway, I’m really happy at my dad’s and I know I made the right decision.
I would love to know your life story if it’s not too personal, and we can all give each other advice!
Like and follow if you enjoyed:) seeya the day after tomorrow ☀️
P.S. Feels good to be back:)