A Childhood Stolen…

My mother’s drinking was/is out of control. She drank pretty much daily to the point where she could no longer function. She drank until she eventually passed out, when she finally passed out I could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that for that day at least, the pain was over.

Mum went through so many boyfriends, one after the other. So I often had random men coming in and out of my life, none of which were very interested in me. All they wanted was sex from my mother. I was left alone a lot. I was isolated from other children my age because what parent in their right mind would bring a child to a bar? So I was left to my own devices. I often drank the left overs in bottles, I tried anything I could get my hands on and I started lighting fires. Troubled and alone, no one noticed my cries for help.

It wasn’t long before my mother had isolated me from every other family member, ensuring one way or another that it was just me and her. I hardly ever got to see my father, grandparents, cousins, aunties, uncles, eventually they became strangers and no longer played a part in my life. My mother said it was because I am unlovable, I am worthless and they didn’t want me around. Of course as a child I believed her, I trusted her, as any naive child would. In the end I thought the problem was me, no one seemed to care and all the family I was supposed to have disappeared and left me. It seemed like no one loved me. All I wanted was love, I wanted her attention and affection but it just never came. She was far to preoccupied with men and alcohol to care for me.

She had a boyfriend that she met while working at this bar, I’ll call him Adam. Adam was a traveler, a bogan type, with dirty unkept hair, a guy who loved to drink and do drugs. For some reason my mum actually seemed to like this guy. He did get rough with her from time to time but my mum wasn’t the submissive type so their arguments got pretty heated and violent. Most of the time I was sent off to stay with mum’s friends while she partied, I started seeing her around less and less. I used to make myself physically sick from crying so much for my mum to come and get me. Some of the places I stayed at were pretty rough party houses. One night my mum came and picked me up and we drove for hours until she stopped at a hotel. Adam and her were having sex, in the same room as me and I could see him watching me… My mum told me to sleep so I shut my eyes, but I still felt Adam’s glare. He really scared me, there was just something about him, I didn’t like him near me.

One day mum went out and Adam was drinking as usual. I didn’t know what was happening, I knew what I had seen adults do but I couldn’t comprehend or understand what sex really was. So when Adam was hurting me I didn’t know what was happening, I couldn’t grasp the severity of it. I was only five years old after all. After it was all over I felt sick, I blacked out for awhile and I remember feeling dirty and disgusting but not knowing why. He took me to a park and made it look like I had hurt myself because I was bleeding so I guess that was to be used as an excuse later. I don’t remember much after that until I woke up on the couch and my mum said I had an accident at the playground. I never denied it. I never challenged it. I forced all those memories far down, to the point where I hardly recall what happened. I know it happened but I guess it’s much easier to forget. It wasn’t the only time I was abused this way, the amount of bars, parties and alcohol I was around, it is no surprise that I was also surrounded by drunk random men and being a child without proper supervision I was an easy target. I felt disgusting and worthless, but as a child I had no rational reason for feeling this way. I only knew what my mum fed me, which was that I am worthless, unlovable and everything is my fault.

I became highly sexualized after all this. I was inappropriate with almost anyone that I was around. Any friends I made I eventually lost because either I was inappropriate or they knew my mum was a drunk and didn’t want their kids around riff raff like me. I think my mum knew what happened but just refused to admit it or didn’t care. She would call me names, bitch, slut, anything to hurt me.

I was six when my grandfather committed suicide. He was clinically depressed, they had tried shock therapy and all sorts but none of it made a difference. My Nanna is a negative person, always quick to put people down and make others feel bad. She is also very selfish, a trait that my mother has. For some reason both my Nanna and my mum seem to think that everyone else in the world is stupid or bad and that they are amazing. They blame all their issues on others and are NEVER wrong, it is never their fault. They are both cold people who only care about themselves. They have no family values and place very little importance on anyone else in their lives. That is part of why my grandfather killed himself, my Nanna was mean to him constantly and it got to the point where they couldn’t even speak to each other. The other reason is that my Nanna had an affair with a man 10 years younger than her and my Grandad found out. He was a kind and gentle man, very caring and I always had a connection to him. I have one fond memory of him, sitting on his knee coloring as he sang to me. “little baby bumpkin, daddy’s gone a hunting, to find a little rabbit skin, to wrap the baby bumpkin in”.

After my Grandad passed my mum’s drinking got much worse. I was forced to live with my Nanna for some time, which I hated because her and her new boyfriend had inherited a lot of money from my grandad’s death and spent it all on their ‘new’ life together. I was a hindrance in my Nanna’s eyes. I have reports with phone calls made to child protection services about her wanting my mum to take me back so she can get married. Everyone knew it was dangerous for me to live with her, even child protection, my nanna admitted this on the phone to them. She expressed her concern about my welfare, knowing that mum drinks far too much and puts me in dangerous situations but she exclaimed that she could no longer look after me. My mum always made promises to visit me but she never did, I was always let down. I got very sick because of all this, I couldn’t sleep, hardly ate and continually vomited. All a girl wants is her mum right? Well I eventually got my wish and was sent to live with her. Biggest mistake of my life. I was only a child, I know I shouldn’t blame myself but I shouldn’t have gone there. That was the last that I saw of any family member except my mother for a long time.

This part of my history is mainly a filler, to fill in the little blanks between events, I didn’t stay with my Nanna for long but at least it was stable and I actually attended school, I had my own room and wasn’t being hurt. My Nan is cold, but she isn’t violent and doesn’t drink. I would have been better off there but I guess she didn’t want me and all I wanted was to be around my mum. In my warped, abused, child mind, mum was still the light of my life and all I wanted was her love. I promised myself I would be on my best behavior and I would do anything to get her love. I didn’t want her to leave me again, so I was planning on being the best daughter anyone ever had. I didn’t know at the time that the problem was her not loving or caring about me. I thought that the problem was me. I thought I was unlovable. I was worthless. I had no idea that really, my mother hated me.

The beginning…

Just a warning, it will take a long time for me to talk about everything that has happened. I’m not going to write it all in one post. The reason for this is it is a healing process for me, there is too much to write in one go and I want to do this properly. So I will drip feed it to you all, piece by piece. This isn’t easy so please bear with me and thank you to all of you who are posting words of encouragement, it truly means a lot to me.

So where else can I begin, except at the beginning? The start of my life was the best part, purely because I was young, innocent and completely naive to the horrors happening around me. It was also the best part because my memory of it all seems so distant now… somewhat fragmented and filled in by child services reports and accounts of those who were there at this point in my life.

My parents had me when they were young, they hadn’t finished partying, drinking and doing drugs. I guess those are all deemed as ‘normal’ teenage/ young adult behaviors. My father was a criminal, yes I know… not  a great career, but that is how he got money. He stole. My mother… well she was a prostitute (by choice not out of necessity) and a full blown alcoholic. I’m not here to put down alcoholics, some are genuinely good people that have been through some rough times and find it hard to cope, so they use substances to numb the pain and eventually get addicted. Some alcoholics really do try to be good parents, they have good intentions but sadly this horrible disease prevents them from making healthy choices for themselves and their children. My mother is NOT one of those alcoholics. She had the opportunity to get help thousands of times but never did. She was not only nasty when she drank, she was nasty sober, she has a twisted mind and is… what’s the word… cruel. I knew from a very young age that she didn’t love me and that I ruined her life, she made that VERY clear. Anyway, I digress.

My father left when I was three years old, he claims it is because he could not handle my mother’s drinking anymore. He would come home to find her passed out on the floor and see my crying in my crib, soiled, hungry and alone. He would find her in bed with other men. She is also very violent when she drinks and loses control. She drink drives, she manipulates, lies, sleeps around and is physically and emotionally abusive. My father left me in her care, claiming that he felt there was nothing he could do for me because children end up with their mothers, so he never pursued custody through the courts. He just left me there, knowing what my mother was capable of. In a way I don’t blame him, I was stuck with my mother for many years and she is horrible, life sucking and violent. But I do feel as though the adults in my life could have done something more for me. They were the adults after all, surely someone could have done something?

I saw my father occasionally after that, not often and I think that he resented me because I was a reminder of my mother. Okay, I don’t refer to them as mother or father because to me they don’t deserve those names but I will call them mum and dad for this blog only. So after dad left, mum worked as a bartender (still prostituting at night), we lived in a bar and backpackers. The bar was downstairs and the rooms were upstairs. I used to collect the glasses from around the bar and take them to the counter, occasionally they would let me pour the beer, by sitting me on the bar. I was constantly surrounded by people drinking, smoking and having sex. I will never forget the smells, it still makes my stomach turn. On the rare occasions that I saw dad, he used to have to drop me off at these places, bars, clubs and random people’s houses. Mum left me here, there and everywhere so she could go out and drink. My childhood was stolen from me, I didn’t have the love and care I needed from birth onward.

My first really bad memory is of when I was four. I was hungry and mum was shut in her room, she has been there all day and I was alone, bored and hungry. I knocked on her door and she told me to piss off, so I did. What felt like hours later I knocked on her door again. No answer this time, so I opened the door slightly, peaking in. My mother was in bed with two men, drunk and high on drugs. She saw me and was furious. “I told you to F*** off, I’m busy”. She threw on some clothes and dragged me to my room. I have a kink in my nose from that day, the ridge is higher and bent, from the break. A constant reminder of how much my mother hates me. Unfortunately for me, a few weeks later my room needed to rented to someone else over the ‘busy’ season, so I had to start sharing a room with mum. I saw everything, the sex, the drugs, the drinking. My innocent eyes were tarnished and from then on I was an adult, trapped in a helpless child’s body. I had to start fending for myself more and more, getting my own food and becoming smarter, I didn’t realize it at the time but I was in survival mode. I had to be in that mode for many years to come and I’m not sure that I am yet fully out of it.

This is just the beginning, the somewhat easier part of my life. It gets a lot worse from here on out. People who suffer through on-going trauma have an over developed stress response system. I have good survival instincts, but that means that in early development I missed out on a lot of important developmental processes such as having a secure attachment to a caregiver, which causes many issues in later life. They say that the first 8 years of a child’s life are the most important developmentally, my first 8 years were full of abuse, fear and torment, I had no stability, no hugs, no I love you’s, no bedtime stories. I guess that you will have to wait to read more… after I finish talking about my history I will also tell you all how it has affected me as an adult now, how it all haunts me everyday and how it feels like the suffering is never ending. Your childhood really does impact you greatly later on in life. So if you are a parent, never hesitate to give your child as much love, support and encouragement as you can. It is THE most valuable gift you can EVER give them.

If anyone has any questions about anything, please feel free to leave a comment and I will always try my best to answer. Sometimes it’s hard figuring out what to write, what to leave out and parts of this may not make full sense or could be fragmented. I’m not really editting, just pouring it onto the page raw. So please forgive any gaps or mistakes. Until later, take care.