Lots and lots of jelly tots, what? Yes… I have to joking state that the last couple of days have had my hair raising, and stress levels going in that erm… wtf mode… with other additional self-inflicted issues on top.
Late, we are late today. Yes, yes, I know. However – we are also working double time for the expo next week for our sanctuary – phones, mails, eish… not complaining, actually laughing, have not been this busy in ages.
Right, I think today, I do want to take a gigantic step back into the past. I have felt the need to speak about this for a while. And as I am stating this, somewhere inside me, I feel that someone will find it to be a cry for help – no, please no. It is what I have experienced, and it has helped me become the person I am today.
We teach our children to ask for something they want, not just take – within that we are very correct. As most of us are always painfully aware of how children can in fact place an embarrassment on us – I don’t see it that, I see it as a child being a child, oh don’t get me wrong… I don’t appreciate a rude and obnoxious child; there I do draw the line.
Let me get back to what I started off in speaking about…
I was in a hostel at the tender age of 6. As, apparently, there had been no one to take care of me, thus shipped off, and wait for it, placed into a hotel for senior children, meaning high school kids. Firstly, I was subjected to being scared out of my brackets at night, with strange sounds, naughty ones sneaking around… and yeah, thinking that it was oh so funny handing me the scare of my life.
I have blocked out many of the days, months that I have spent there, and I am sure as the leaves unfold, I will recover more of “myself”. My mother:
My mother was someone to be feared. And feared I did. At her “young” age of 20 something odd, she was saddled with a child she did not want, oh I have been told this so many times that I believe it with all my heart and nothing will change my mind on this subject ever. Why my “mom” (gran) was not around, I do not know… anyway –
One weekend, Friday afternoon, waiting to be collected, and sleeping in at least a house that did not have the creepy children in, my school bag vanished. One moment it was next to me, the next it was gone.
Yes, later I found out that the older kids thought this to be oh so funny in hiding this school bag around a pillar out of direct view, but what they did not know was the price I paid for their “prank”.
I cried, I cried so hard, my chest was burning, I struggled to catch a breath, I knew what was coming, I knew the bruises I would have to look at days later, for something I did not do… I did not leave my bag somewhere, not taking care of the things handed, as I was CONSTANTLY reminded on how much I “cost” her.
I paid the price for a couple of giggles, maybe a laugh or two. I paid with my body being beaten blue and purple, I paid with my mind, my emotional state, of being told, this is exactly why she never wanted me – I paid. I paid for a very long time… people were told oh how ungrateful I was, how I never took care of anything. I paid for years.
This little girl inside me, simply wanted to please her mother. She wanted to be someone to be proud of, she wanted to be accepted, and ultimately loved.
But this little girl inside me, was denied this for many more years, and in time I have realized, the little girl inside me, needs my love more than the acceptance of someone that will never be able to give it.
The day I stopped, was the day I started healing. My point is darling readers, a joke may be a hard price for another to pay, no matter the intent, you never know what goes on behind closed doors. Do not cause harm with intent, and be mindful of your own inner child, and the love it so need.