That’s.. a long story really. How I got to this stage where I’m suffering and recognising it. To this stage where I’m accessing help and trying to get better.
I guess, this may sound all to familiar to some.
You know the story… Pretty good childhood. Pretty standard primary school years, just a bit of bullying for a few years and then you’re dumped into secondary school. Yeah, me too.
- *** There are some mentions of triggers so please be advised if you are sensitive topics of abuse. ***
Except well, being a natural ginger meant I had some harsh bullying in primary school. Except thank heavens I grew up in the 90s when the internet was new-ish and social media wasn’t a thing so I could escape it then when I got home.
Secondary school was something else though, hello social media. Goodbye hiding spaces. Hello endless torture. I even had fake Myspace and Bebo accounts made of me. Looking back, I thought that was the worst I’d go through as a teenager. I kind of wish it was. But it wasn’t.
I was suffering with depression and was being helped in my early teens… as when I was in year 8, i was self harming and tried to take my life. I thought I was getting ‘better’ I wasn’t I was not even engaging with the help then. I just started learning how to use the mask and facade method of avoiding my mental health. Yeah, I know. Not a smart move. I know that now.
Anyway, end of summer before year 9 started. I thought I was okay and went for a long walk. Where I was pursued and trapped by two people I knew from school. One of which I knew since primary school. I was raped. I did NOT consent… regardless of what that person said to others and made me out to be. It was rape, there was zero consent. So yeah, I did report it, went through that whole police ordeal. My dad offered me to change schools and all that jazz but I’m stubborn so I forced myself back before I was mentally ready. The school treated me like I was the rapist. I was locked away on my own at break and lunchtime whilst he got to roam the school free. I heard all the stories he told about me. He lied about my outfit and to this day I still remember what I wore that day. I was 13 at the time.. I am now 26. Let that sink in. It doesn’t leave you.
I was exploited by men older than me for a few years after that where I was abused, I was raped and the like. Thanks to him. Making me out to be the town bike and thanks to me being beyond naive and thinking these guys were nice.
I had a bit of a mental breakdown a few months later after getting told at Christmas time the guy got away with it. Merry Christmas Gemma.. nothing’s being done. Thanks… That kinda ruined Christmas for me. I don’t tend to look forward to it as it’s such a sour time.
Moving on cause I did stay in school. I did pretty well in my GCSE’s which was my goal. To prove to that monster that I was better than him. He couldn’t stop me from doing well and he didn’t.
6th form came, and went quicker than anything. I started to want to make a difference to others about bullying so when we had to make presentations in form about something i think we’re passionate about I did it about bullying and the effects of it. The year 13s…. They were telling me to go kill myself. Pushing me and pushing me. I practically did. I stole alcohol, bought pills and got drunk in school. I was going to overdose but someone noticed I was out of it and told our head of year. Yeah, she didn’t kick me out though as she knew that wasn’t me.
She helped me leave and start a college course a few weeks late. Where I met my ex.. He was a monster. He didn’t seem it at first… they never do. I was with him for 7 years. He was abusive in so many ways. I didn’t see it at the time. He’d be sweet in public. In private there’s the mental put downs, he’d beat me. He’d torture me until I do what he wanted. He’d rape me. He’d make me out to be crazy. So much more.. but in the long run.. I guess he ruined me. He broke and distorted me. My mind had all these learned behaviours from him and it wasn’t pretty.
I tried killing myself a few times whilst I was with him. My worst had to be in 2014 where I was told if I didn’t go to A&E or waited any longer I’d be in intensive care or dead.
When I met my now husband, my ex even tried getting in between us as he wasn’t happy he was losing his control on me. Even though I agreed to be with him again.. I actually.. wasn’t if you get me. I was sneaking around to be with my now husband all the time. I was secretly messaging and calling him. It actually felt good for once to be the one cheating, the one lying. You know? Giving him a taste of his own sick medicine. It was thrilling. When i realised that my now husband was showing me how it felt to be happy again. How it felt to feel loved. To feel appreciated and that I was falling in love. I left that monster. He got in one last beating. Threatening to steal my car and leave me in Cardiff without any charge on my battery. Wow, top bloke there. Thanks. He didn’t. I’m also glad that I didn’t throw myself out of my moving car on a busy road in rush hour as he beat me. (Idiot actually left a bruise this time that my now husband noticed).
We bumped into him a few times. He proved himself to be an abusive idiot as he wouldn’t just leave us be. Even ringing my house phone a few times at a stupid hour. Texting my parents posting something through the door. Starting fights with us.
So yeah. That’s the bad stuff in a nutshell.
Everyone’s got their own stories. That’s mine.
So how’d I end up getting help?
I guess now I’ve been away from it all for so long and have had time to process everything that’s gone on in my life.. I broke. I snapped.
The learned behaviours and coping mechanisms were breaking me and one day I was on autopilot and tried to kill myself. For a while since then I was in a state of constant crisis and was back and forth my GP and the CMHT. I’ve had a few slip ups along the way so far to get to today. Some dangerous ones where I’ve gone to hospital. The point is, I sought help, I’m still here.
It’s okay though. I’m now under the care of the CMHT and I’m awaiting various therapies and support. So we’ll see if I can ever feel ‘normal’ again.
I will be going into more detail about the learned behaviours, learned thoughts. Coping mechanisms etc in later posts… This ones just a generalised what I’ve been through post. 🙂
I guess the point of this post was to make my story make more sense. To be more open and honest about what I’ve been through. I’ve been through a lot. People have had it far worse than me. It doesn’t invalidate what I have been through. It doesn’t invalidate my pain. Nor does it invalidate how it has affected me physically nor my mental health.
If you feel that way. Believe me, you matter. Your story matters. Make yours heard. You too, deserve help, deserve respect, deserve love and kindness. I’m starting to see that myself.
Now that the yucky bits are out of the way… I will be more proactively posting about my recovery.. what’s going on in my mind.. how i’m feeling and what not.
Okay, that’s taken a lot out of me… Time to chill.
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