Not so Brief history of time (Part 1)

Well the trend at the moment seems to be to write about what you hope the future holds for you, your resolutions for the new year. But frankly, sitting in my hospital room, where I have been since November, but before that in and out a lot since August, I really dont feel like looking ahead. Its not all positive and rosey right now as I know there is a lot of hard work ahead. Surgery, physio, exercise etc. So instead, I have decided to give you a brief history in time. Its been a while since I wrote about my past. I mean odd snippets yes, but nothing fully since I started with the whole depression performance. blah. Perhaps to have it down on paper will make it a little more real and maybe a little more possible to leave ti where it belongs, in the past.

I had a fairly healthy family life growing up. Lived with both of my parents, my brother (who was 3 years old than me) and until I was about 6 one of my sisters (who was about 20 years older than me.)  I used to love it when my sister lived at home as I shared a room with her and so used to get out of tidying it up a lot. (Somethings never change) However, she used to work full time as did my dad and my mum worked part time.

Mum expected my sister do to all the cooking and cleaning and often pick my brother and I up from school. It would have made more sense for my mum to do these things what with my sister working full time, but my mums logic was my sister had it easy as she still lived at home. My sister got in with the wrong crowd, she had a bf who was very possessive. She worked as a chef and if her bf came to pick her up and saw her talking to any other males, be it colleagues or customers, he would drive off and leave her to walk home.

But she found his company favorable to living at home and so moved out when I was about 6/7. I didnt see her again for years.

Life carried on as normal, I fought like any sister with my brother and often argued with my mum, usually about how little I was doing to help her. One day my brother decided to run away to London, I begged him to take me with him but we wouldnt. I didnt tell anybody he had gone. When they found out the police and such were phoned. He was bought back the next day no the worse for wear. We kind of bonded after that. Stopped fighting and used to comfort each other when mum had been mean. Dad wasnt around much, he worked all the hours he could, often we used to think it was to stay out of her way. I used to love it when dad came home. Because no matter how mean mum had been to me, she was normal with me again once dad came in.

When I was about 9, we received a mysterious letter. I was not allowed to know anything about the letter but mum and dad argued a fair bit about it. About two weeks later mum told me that I had another sister, but that she had left home when I was very young. She had gotten pregnant and the babies farther didnt believe it was his so he kicked her out. She ended up in a refuge. Near the end of the pregnancy he came to see her and said he would take her back if she got rid of the baby. So the baby (whom she named Samantha) was put up for adoption. Apparently my parents put in to adopt her, but my sister said she didnt want them to have her so blocked it. She ended up in  the Isle of Mann.

Well anyway, turns out the letter was from my sister. She had seen us out shopping one day and decided she want to make amends. Dad had gone to visit her without my mum (how dare he go without her permission she said) but anyway, turned out she had 2 kids. I found out later that when my dad went he just sat with the kids on his knees and cried.

So he arranged for my sister(Shell), her husband (Mike) and the 2 kids to come visit us the following week. Mum was not happy about it but she did agree to it finally. And so the following friday I met my sister, brother in law niece and nephew. Things were akward at first but they came down regulary and soon it was like they had never been gone.

A couple of years later my Mum found something in my brothers room (I forget what ti was now) and asked were he got it. When the full story eventually came out, it turned out he had been visiting my other sister (Tracy) and that was were it came from. Although the parents were not happy, they knew they could not ban him from seeing his sister. When she had her third child (Who was a twin, but one died during the pregnancy) my mum sent a gift and even allowed me to go with my brother.

A couple of months later, my brother came to tell my mum that Tracys youngest baby was very ill in hospital. Her stomach had twisted inside her or something which involved a big op and along stay in Alder Hey. My mum offered to have the other 2 children while Tracy was at the hospital and so they started speaking again. I now had 2 nieces and 2 nephews.

There was always some wierdnesss between my two sisters, but I put it down to sibling riverally. When I was about 14, I started to do things that I shouldnt have been doing. I stole some poppers out of my brothers room and used them a fair bit, not really knowing what they were at this point (remember there was no internet back then so I couldnt just look it up). I also started punishing myself, I would stay up late at night mostly till about 4am but often all night, still going to school for 8am the next day. I started smoking and playing around with boys. I got into lots of fights. From there on, I started scratching myself with needle along my wrists, fantasying going deeper.

One night when I was about 15, I decided enough was enough. I took half a packet of paracetamol, wrote my goodbye note, laid down and cried myself to sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I was so angry. Why was I still here. Sure I felt rough and couldnt keep much down, but I was still alive. I screwed my note up (Which was full of I am sorry, I wish we had gotten on better and had a normal relationship blah blah and was addressed to my mum)

I sat down the following night and took the whole packet of paracetamol. I spent most of the night heaving my guts up and generally feeling awful. Yet the next morning I still got up and went to school. About a week later, I picked up a prescription for migraine tablets from the doctors. As it was a prescription it was for a large amount. That night I took 2 full boxes.

Within 40 minutes I was heaving again. Mum thought I had a stomach bug so let me stay off school the next day, which was a good job as I spent most of the time in the loo. I felt so rotten I will never forget it. I dont know how it didnt mess me up more. The amount I took should have caused liver damage. But of course, once the sickness subsided and my muscles healed from all the heaving there were no signs at all.

I started spending as much time as possible at my sisters house (Tracy).  She had moved house and we often joked about converting the extension into a room for me. My brother was working in a local supermarket, but ripping them off by stealing alcohol. He used to sell me it at a cheap rate so I used to spend my weekly pocket money on spirits and spent a lot of time drinking, even getting drunk during an RE lesson in school. Pretty soon after that he was caught out. He was sent into the bosses office to wait for the police. The boss got called out of the office for some reason and my brother stole his keys and ran out the shop. He then stole the bosses expensive car and was involved in a high speed police chase involving helicopters and such before he eventually wrote the car off. He was of course arrested and as he had spent a lot of time in the past in trouble with the police (robbing car badges and other various teenage pranks) he was sentenced to 8 months in juvenile prison. We visited him a couple of times. I missed him lots. Visiting will be something I wont forget. the whole police dogs and searching stuff.

Around here sometime, my sister (Shell) also had another baby, a girl. Her husband (Mike) beat her up one night and she rang us crying.n We went down and made sure she was ok and everything. I found a lot out about Mike that night. Turns out he had tried to sleep with my other sister a few years back and had kind of stalked her in a way. (explains the tension between the two of them) And Mike had apparently beaten my sister lots of times before and locked her out the house a few times. Of course she got her self back on her feet, but as these things tend to happen, within a few weeks, she got back together with him and it was like nothing had ever happened.

At 16, while studying for my GCSE I got a job in a shop in town. Suddenly I had money, most the study went out the window. I used to have to be in for 11 at night. So once on study leave I worked most days. In the morning I would ride my bike to my friends house and leave it there. We would then get the bus to town were we would both go to work. At the end of our shift we would meet up, get the bus back and go the local pub were we would spend the night drinking. At about 10:45 I would leave hers on my bike and ride home and make it in just before 11 (As long as I didnt wobble off the bike, which was always a possibility) This continued for a few months until I had a huge row with my mum.

After that row, I didnt physically speak to my mum for about a month, we avoided each other which suited me fine. I started saving some money (Move on to spirits instead of cocktails, much cheaper) and then I found a bed sit to rent. The place was a dump to be honest, but it was easy to get to work and I could just about afford it.

I didnt tell my family I was leaving. Didnt think I owed them anything so why should I. Left a note, basically telling her not to try to contact me and a load of selfish ramble to boot. Rang for a taxis, one of those big people carriers. Dumped my stuff in the back and officially left home.

Things were great, for a few days. Till I went into work and was told I was being fired. Apparently there had been some discrepancies in my till. I had never ever stole from work! I did consider it once, I thought about taking a pound out as I had no money to buy dinner, but instead I Went hungry. But this is what they claimed and so I was offically out of work. Now it was hard enough getting a job, but at that time of year, nowhere would hire a 16 year old as they had all the uni students looking for work.

A few days later I got my GCSE results. While I didnt do as well as I had hoped, I had done fairly well especially considering the lack of work I did. I decided to write my results down and give it to my mum. I dont know why I decided to go to her work instead of just posting it through my old house. But I had basically said that I knew the results were not good enough for her, but I was happy enough with them (which was kind of a lie) (Bear in mind that I did my maths GCSE a year early and got a B, the highest  I could get on that paper and I had come higher than all but 1 of the year above me. When I told my mum her words wre "I dont know why your celebrating, you could have done better, why didnt you get an A" so my assumptions were not totally incorrect)

Anyway, my friend who I asked to deliver the letter decided to tell my mum I was outside so she came out. We had a begruding hug and a cry. She asked me to come home I agreed as I didnt have a choice with having no job. She then gave me some money to buy some food and such with.

The first thing my friend and I did was buy some stuff for a fry up ha. That night we went out clubbing with the rest of my class. My friend and I decided that we would go to a different club from everyone else as we wanted to do some drugs but didnt want the whole school finding out. While out I started dancing with this boy, Kieran. We got on ok and such and my friend decided that I should lose my virginity before moving back home. ha. Seemed like a good idea at the time. We had no taxis fair so we were going to walk but then kieran said he had money and so we invited him back. My friend eventually fell asleep on the sofa in my bedsit while I was cuddling with Kieran. Still high as a kite and drunk to boot, I slept with him.

Had to kick him out early the next morning after getting his number as my parents were coming to collect me to take me home again. and so I moved home. But not for long...

Stressful weekend

What a weekend and its not over yet.
It started on Friday, when my friend phoned me to say she was being admitted to hospital. She had started new anti depressants but had gone into serotonin syndrome. I got lots of random texts off her that didnt make a lot of sense. by evening she was being discharged, which judging byt he way she was talking, I didnt agree with at all. She left the hospital but she hadnt been fully discharged as of then. The hospital rang her and asked her to come back as they wanted to give mer some meds. She didnt want to go back, but after a bit of persuasion, she did. All they did was give her a couple of days worth of sleeping pills. She went home took one and was out for the count.

Saturday she was hyper again, talking to her on the phone she was speaking so fast I could hardly understand her. She went out with a friend so I thought she would be safe. Her friend took her to a club, where she said people where listening to her thoughts through the music so she came home and took her sleeping pill again.

When I came online later on she was freaking out. Apparently someone was out to get her, they where outside the window and had swapped her meds as they now had a funny smell. I rang her and she said they where in her room but they had gone when the phone rang. She went to sleep but was awake fairly early. And that brings us to now. She still thinks people are out to get her, but she is hyper again.She wont go the hospital incase its them out to get her. Just wish there was more I could do. I would be down there in a shot if i was well enough.

But last night, I nearly chocked. After bragging the other day that I had gone a few days without needing my nebulizer, last night I blocked up good and proper. Got to the point where my breathing was getting stuck when i breathed in and out. I had to take huge big gasps to get it in and cough really hard to get it out. I was running my nebs again while I was doing this, but I was just about ready to say to mum get me to A&E. That would have been fun. Why is it always a saturday night? Anyway, after a lot of scary coughing, I finally managed to clear it.



Then I got some more news. Peter Chapman, the guy who I always thought had helped saved me, is being convicted of murder and is s know sex offender. Apprently he met a 17 year old girl off facebook, he was 32, and he killed her I really should remain single for the rest of my life. The last person I slept with is a known sex offender and now a murderer and the person before was a known rapist. Great choice I have in men. (gazzette article)

Pete was so kind to me. He gave me somewhere to go when things got violent with Dave and I had to get out. He went to the police with me, he held me while I sat in that horrible waiting room waiting for the police doctor to examine me. He made sure I ate and he sat and cuddle me all night when I couldnt sleep when we got back to his. When Dave went for me the first time, he pushed him into the kitchen away from me, when Dave caught up with me in the hall way brandishing his knife, Pete went and got help, even if it was to late, its the thought that counts right. He came to visit me when I was in ICU.

Even once I got out of hospital, he came to visit me a few times. He used to come the pub on a friday night with Haley and me. I was going to marry him, I decided at the time. He abused my trust then, but I never thought he was capable of doing what he has done. I was having trouble topping my phone up, so stupidly I gave him my bank card number and asked him to try from his phone. The follwoing week £30 went missing out my account to his phone. I couldnt deal with losing the trust I had in him. It was so hard to have any trust with anyone as it was and so I cut all contact with him, changing my number and such.

And until last night, that was the last time I had seen him. Pert of me is saying, how could he do that to someone after he saw what I went though and how much it effected me. Another part of me is saying maybe its my fault. Maybe, its some kind of psych compliant, kinda like he witnessed everything that happened to me and reenacted it. The girl was 17, he was 32 thats 15 years different. There was 10 years between Dave and I.


For some reason I have an urge to go to his trial. (3rd November) I know it would only cause upset. That I wouldnt be able to handle it in my present state. The urge is still there though. Didnt sleep much last night thinking about it. I cant get him out of my head. Seeing his picture in the paper just bought it all back. Which then of course had memories of him running through my head, which lead to memories of Dave running through my head, which in turn leads to even more nasty memories. Just wish my head would silence for a bit. I have to keep busy or it all starts playing through my mind. Stupid PTSD.

And of course I would normall make a post for support and I would normally talk to my friend about this, but I wont put any of it on her. Shes not well. I will tell her when she is better, but who knows when that will be. Its times like this I realise just how few friends I have these days. I guess I have pushed them all away, to be honest most couldnt deal with having a sick friend. When I first had my transplant, I couldnt do much for myself. They where young, 17/18 wanting to be carefree out having fun, not stuck with someone in a wheel chair who spent more time in hospital than out. From then we just grew further apart. And I havnt had the trust to make new friends really.

Anyway, enough depressed rambling for one entry.