Sammy680

I love this idea, this is definitely happening one day!

Originally I was going to tap in “get over my childhood”, but it struck me that, quite simply, isn’t going to happen. The memories will always be there; the best I can do is to undo the painful lessons learnt and try to move on.

Rightly or wrongly, I rarely speak about the events of my past. What’s the point of dragging other people down with it, when I can keep quiet and pretend everything is a-okay? If I find it bothering me that much, I write to get the poison out of my system.

I’m looking for a way to break free; to step up from being the messed up teenager I was 5 years ago. I’ve made so much progress with this already. Once upon a time, I refused to participate or interact with the world around me. Wearing anything other than trousers and a jumper, making a phone call, even leaving the house… all those basic things were impossible. Simply put, I couldn’t function. I was bitter, angry with other people for being happy.

And now? I’m better, an awful lot better. Suicide is not on my mind whatsoever. Self harming hasn’t been a part of my life now for roughly two years. I don’t hate people, generally I wish them well unless they’re tossers. I can wear the shortest skirts, the tightest tops, I can even flirt fairly well!

I think a turning point for me was realising that somebody wasn’t going to stroll into my life and wave a magic wand to save me. Deciding it was my responsibilty was scary; I questioned whether I was strong enough to turn things around or if it was already too late.

But I am strong enough, and I’m lucky enough now to have supportive friends who make me feel worthwhile again.

I’ll do this.

Dad died, at the age of 29, from long-term heart problems. I was a mere one and a half years old when he prematurely pegged it.

Being a baby, I obviously have no memories of him whatsoever; all I can go on are photos and other people’s stories. People say I look like him, sadly for me this means I’ve inherited his bushy eyebrows!

I could lie here, add a bit of drama, and tell you he’s always on my mind. He isn’t. However, sometimes I catch myself wondering how life would’ve turned out if he had been around. How brilliant it would’ve been to avoid the chain of events his death triggered!

How can you miss somebody you never knew? But I do miss him at times. And as this was the first thing that sprung to mind when I came across this site I guess it’s pretty important for me to have some closure.

The effects of his death on me aren’t obvious, at first glance. Scratch the surface though and the signs are there, etched so finely onto this heart of mine. Recently, I realised that I’ve got a deathly fear of dying young (I won’t moan about turning thirty; I’ll breathe a sigh of relief!) and I’m uneasy about getting close to men romance-wise. Dad was taken from us so young, what’s to say history won’t repeat itself?

In 20 years, I’ve never visited to pay my respects. I’m not even entirely sure where he’s buried; Dad was always a touchy subject to raise in conversation so I never bothered.

So. Find out where he’s laid to rest, visit with flowers, and strike down a few demons from the past. Bish bash bosh, just like that!