The stripped sock that caught her attention

Well back into it....after the last few days of crap being thrown at me I thought I'd distract myself and blog more about myself..gotta do something therapeutic and heal myself when Mental Health workers go on strike and walk off the job...more about that depending on how things go in my life but yup that's how fantastic the Government handle things in this country.

So I was 3 months old. I had been living with a foster Mother. I have no recollection of her. Apparently she was lovely. She still has contact with my adoptive mother....more about my adoptive mother later. But i try to keep this is my blog, i try not to put her in unless she needs to be.

My birth mother had signed me over. My birth father had fought the process the whole way, he didn't want to give me up, to the point he had hardly shown up to any of the meeting with social services apparently.

My birth mother had 3 families to "choose" from to adopt me out to

Like i was a damn puppy in a pet shop. Here come along to our pet store, pick and choose from our selection, here we have a cute bubby with ginger hair, this is her background, here with a have a cute bubby with black hair...and so on

Then there was me. I had my background history. This is me at 7 months old

There was my birth mother. New Zealand born....also adopted...huge background stuff...blablabla. Cant be bothered dragging her stuff up, she lives to close to me and i know one day she will get word of my blog if she hasn't already. Then theres my Birth Father. Irish born. Lost his parents at an early age. Has never had anything apparently. A bit like me. Ive never met him except when i was born obviously. I have photos and that's it. I dont know how i feel about him. Ive found him on Facebook but i go to contact him and freeze. The fear, the doubt, the pain. Nope, its too soon.

I will talk about them one day.

Back to when i was adopted. My adoptive parents decided I was "the one". Hilarious really. Silly they that didn't make that informed decision as now they say to me that deep down they regret it as when I hit puberty and got raped (more about that in another post) I developed problems and they didn't see it, or didn't want to.

So in they waltzed to pick me up from the social services offices or where-ever I was. I don't remember as you do when you're 3 months old. My adoptive mother says she saw a stripped sock first. That's what she fell in love with. 😒

The last thing she remember one of the social workers saying to her before she left is

This little girl is going to have issues when she grows up, she has huge trauma she got abandoned for too long and its scarred her.

What did my adoptive parents do? They wrapped me in bubble wrap from the world and did everything for me. Then when i got too hard at 10 stuck me away from everything, away from them in a boarding school where i got raped, then at 14 when i got asked to leave to sort my head because i got too sick and did bad things (more on that in a later post) I got put in a Psychiatric Ward in Switzerland for a year.

Yup been through it all and still going. I will never give up, because giving up has never been an option for me, since the very beginning.

Will post then next part I remember soon

Shan
xx

My voice within from the beginning

My world has been rocked

I'm really struggling this morning. 2017 was meant to be my year. I made this decision last year. It was a huge one for me. I entered this year with positivity in my heart, hope, etc. To be honest I'm too sore and numb to think of words right now to describe how I was feeling around my Birthday, October last year, but it was a good feeling.

Then yesterday in the hospital reality hit me. The possibility i have kidney disease. Part of this joyous illness that I have is that i over think things. To the point where my brain honestly feels like a giant Cake mixer. Ive told a few professionals this and they've nodded like they've understood, i honestly think they nod because they are trying to empathise, but truly they are feeling sorry for me.

I don't want pity. I just want this giant cake mixer to stop churning.

I don't mean to yell but this is my head space at the moment. My upper back is hurting, i cant come off the meds that I'm on instantly because that will affect my mental health, i cant come off these pills The Doctor gave me because they help my Borderline Personality, and i have to take the antibiotics i was given yesterday for my bladder infection. I can barely manage to eat breakfast.

My soul mate is flat-tack with work, i cant interrupt him. I feel like a inconvenience, but i keep going for my kids, him and myself. I rung our local free healthline today, they read all my notes, huge by the way go figure, and all i got was, find a friend, go to hospital. Woman...i dont have friends...well, i do, but dont you understand i feel like a inconvenience right now? Lets return back to this....

MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE THIS

This is stupid, all because in January i decided i wanted to do something about my mental health and approached the wrong Mental Health Organisation and the wrong Dr.

A song thats close to my heart

I have no memories of this blur of nightmares

Apparently all I did was scream. I had love, my Mother did try. But when I try to find something sympathetic to say about her my Borderline Personality Scars burn too much and I cant find anything nice to say.

Myself and my Mother have been through hell and back, theres more to our story than just the beginning of my life. She comes into my life lots. Please don't hate her. I own this hate, she has her own demons, and if shes reading this blog it wouldn't surprise me if at some point she has something to say. I'm not writing this blog to destroy her, that's not what this is for. This blog is to get my "stuff" out. I have my malicious moments, but they usually come out in song, and even then I will blur pictures and use code names.

Back to my story, my mother struggled. My father was trying to bring in the money and my mother was barely an Adult herself. She was sick. I actually don't know what and I don't care anymore. She kept ringing my father asking for help. He ignored her and couldn't cope with her constant pleas for help. So she chose to run to him and left me. He isnt the one to hate either, he was trying to provide for the family.

So night after night I was left hungry cold and alone for 3 months to scream. I talk about some of this in my previous post. I must of had a blanket because as an adult now when i get upset the first thing I do is rub my fingers together to soothe myself. I must of done that as a coping mechanism when i was alone as a baby. When I was growing up I used to do with my adoptive mothers clothing.

She was young, unwell and in love. He was trying to play the Dad role. Maybe I'm to blame....maybe i shouldn't of been born. Sometimes when I'm in a bad space i scream this at people. Why didn't my mum close her legs? Why didn't she abort me? Why didn't she smother me with a pillow?? Because some days I'd rather she would done that then have gone through the journey I'm taking you through, on this roller coaster. But at least if I get it out it might actually help, because to be quite honest, I don't have a lifetime of therapy available to me, a book would be a mess, so lets just blog this for now and maybe in a few years time or even a few months things might be different.

Like i mentioned in a previous post in my blog I was uplifted at 6 weeks old. Both my parents didn't want me to be uplifted, but i was very thin, undernourished and obviously had been damaged by the nights of screaming to nobody coming to my cries.

Shan
xx