I had a strict upbringing with my older siblings, a brother (+3) and sister (+2)
My mother split from my father (I was 3 1/2 years old or I could have been 4)
My father was (Un-diagnosed) Bipolar, allegedly heavy drinker and allegedly violent to my mother. We didn’t have much (My mother made us clothes, worked 2 jobs and we ate beans on toast sort of thing, on the poverty line at times I believe) Our family were outsiders from the town we lived in as we were from a different country (England) and I was truly the Black sheep of the family being the only Welsh born.
My mother re-married when I was 6 and we moved to the countryside from the small village we lived in. My step father was strict and violent in all ways possible, thus taught my brother that when you get angry you raise your voice and fists. My brother began to sexually abuse me from the age of 10 until I left home. I tried to hang myself the summer before I went into high school and I began to have food issues, I would throw my packed lunch away at school and avoid eating when I could. At age 11 my sister moved away to live with my father some 200 miles to England and I began starving myself, not that anyone noticed and this stunted my puberty growth. My step father started to molest me when I was about 12, only top half my “Fried eggs” he’d call them as I was flat chested till I was 15. When I was 14 my Granddaddy died of lung cancer, I was very close to my grandfather. My Grandfather was my guardian Angel, he looked after me and loved me unconditionally. At the age of 15 I put myself in foster care, somehow I got the motivation and the strength to leave and I don’t honestly know how I left.
In foster care, I was FREE but unloved and lost, bullied thorough school severely, I began self harming and binge eating (I was 80 lbs ish when I left home and went up 60 lbs) Left be be a teenager, I began drinking, smoking, skipping school and I had severe mood swings as I couldn’t control my emotions or connect to anyone, plus I was suicidal. I was binge eating by this point & trying to diet but was so messed up I had no control over myself at all. Aged 16 I tried to make myself sick in my grandmas bathroom but I was unsuccessful, within the same year I took my dressing gown robe tie and took it to the attic steps to hang myself but couldn’t go through with it, I was too afraid. But I managed to complete my GCSCE’S with 3 c’s and 3 D’s! Plus a GNVQ at high school though I was almost suspended months before my exams.
When I was 17 I was thrown out of foster care for fighting and moved 270 miles to go live with my sister. However, she was a new mother at the age of 19 and had PND (Post Natal depression) and moved away to live closer to family. I felt abandoned 18 year old with a semi live in guardian, my Uncle who became aggressive over time and assaulted me verbally. I don’t blame him now though, he was turning 50 and I was turning 20 year old and was a broken person. I began smoking weed and binge drinking and I was diagnosed with Depression when I was 19. I tried to slit my wrists in the bath tub, but it wasn’t deep enough and 3 hours later and freezing cold, I got out the bath tub and went about my day. I wanted my uncle to find me, come rushing in and scoop me up and love me, cry and all that jazz but of course I was un-lovable. But I Completed my diploma at collage doing Childcare and got a job working with children which I felt really proud about.
20 years old l was feeling like I didn’t know who the fuck I was, depressed, lost and alone 2 weeks before my 21st birthday I took a serious attempt for my life. I refer to this as the “Big attempt” I downed a bottle of whiskey with short of a mix of 200 pills. I didn’t contemplate waking up the next morning and how much of a failure I would feel for years to come. I ended up walking out of my job several months later and was diagnosed with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) and GAD (Generalized anxiety Disorder). I started taking anti depressants and dated a bloke for a short while, he abused me mentally & then harassed me for years later which I had to go to the police about. I stopped smoking weed though! (It was only social)
I tried to re-build my life and did a art based course, had my artwork up in a local gallery and completed a NVQ in Art & design although I got bullied on the journey to the location. But nothing I did could shake of how shit I felt inside, my relationships only lasted around 5 months in duration, I was a broken person. I was in so much pain and I was lost and dying inside.
By now aged 21, my self harm was increasing and so was my binge drinking and I became bulimic/anorexic and eventually dropping 40 lbs to 100 lbs. My father committed suicide and well my life was a mess. I got accepted into the University of Derby to do a foundation Fine art degree. I completed my foundation degree year at University despite going days without eating, sleeping and missing lectures due to my depression.Though I was at my worst mentally, these were the best years of my life & most artistic. My eating disorder raged, I was over exercising, I was taking the entire box of laxatives, fasting for up to 5 days, eating no more that 800 calories a day, like ever! I took several handfuls of diet pills a day, I restricted my eating and binged & purged up to 5 times a day. I was very ill though I never looked emaciated. I was sick of being sick though, my hair fell out & I could barley walk up a flight of stairs without almost fainting so I looked for help when I was turned down support from my Dr because my BMI of 17.4 was too high.
I dropped out of my degree in the first year, took my ass to rehab, I walked out after 2 weeks but felt hopeful and looked for an alternative placement but that one I got kicked out for bad behavior 8 weeks later, I thought of myself as so unlovable I couldn’t be helped! I am proud that I went 6 months without making myself sick after rehab.
When I got out of rehab I tried to get myself together and stopped cutting myself and I got a job cleaning for a little while. I moved in with my sister but was made homeless after a couple of months because she was so nasty to me while she fought her own addiction problems and I had Cam in my head. I had been talking to him online for a couple of years and he was a psychopath, literally. I tried to take my own life again whilst ending up in an difficult position with him mentally and emotionally abusing me. He had taken all my friends away from me and was controlling all aspects of my life, I relapsed into my bulimia after gaining weight and being a healthy weight and I took a paracetamol overdose which landed me in hospital for a week with liver damage. See I can’t even kill myself. I felt useless.
I started re building my life, when I moved back to my sisters and the council got me a flat. I went on short courses and applied to go to collage. The summer of 2010 at the age of 25, I met Matthew and I fell pregnant the first time we had sex even though we had used protection and I stopped making myself sick instantly. I had my first child, a girl and I completed a diploma in creative media. I got married, started up a business, I had my second child, a son and bought a house.
But everything fell apart just before my 30th birthday, my husband and I separated because I had an online emotional affair. I moved out of my own home and my life fell apart as I became a single mum, I began drinking daily, I started making myself sick after almost 5 years of being in recovery.I took a break from my beloved work and isolated myself in my home thinking that everyone thought I was a monster because of what I had done to my husband.
I tried yet again to keep it together, managed to stop making myself sick after 2 1/2 months and cut down drinking to a couple of nights a week. But my depression is like a force of nature, my head is a place of hell. I took time out for myself and watched a lot of TV but still couldn’t shake off my head and the demon I have inside.
I ended up having another breakdown and tried to end my life and failed 3 times in one night. I tied a noose on my neck, tied it to my lampshade and stepped on my chair, I grazed my neck quite badly, I wanted it to just all end but I guess I didn’t tie the ribbon tight enough. Then I went to slit my writs in the bath tub, but my knives were blunt and my shitty ass disposable razors were rubbish though I scared myself. The police came round but I warped my towel round me and shook them off. Nothing was going to stop me, I had written my note and this is what I wanted, I wanted to die. I then downed some alcohol and took a staggered overdose. I spent 3 days in hospital and 10 days in an Inpatient respite home. My plan was to go to University in September and rebuild myself yet again, but I chose to difur until I am ready, because my mental health is poor. My partner and I got back together after 6 months break but we still live separately.
I’m very over weight because I binge eat, I go on diet after diet but nothing helps because I am in a mental fight. I joined the gym and I am trying to change my life around by eating healthier and getting back to work. I have been struggling with my health for quite a few years but finally got diagnosed with ME.
WILL I EVER GET BETTER?
Love and light Torri.