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Thursday

6th February 2014


I thought I would start writing a blog about my life with complex post traumatic stress. I have had this for a long time now and as such I know what it feels like and to be totally blunt it is crap. 
I will include pages from my diary, some are good, some not so good ....

11th May 2009
Today I have found that all my work on my Diary has been corrupted, most probably my own fault by trying to copy it from the Note Tab to here, I have had a really shitty day all round so I am not in the best of moods. First, I had a row with some bitch over the tumble dryer, it has gone wrong with the same fault four times in four months and I was totally peeved at this, then I went to see my councilor, but there was a bad mix up with my appointment, so I didn't get to see her, after that I caught a bus to go to Waterloo train station and the driver so darn stroppy, but as soon as he realized I was staff he done as I asked and let me off the bus, I got home and thought I'd write here in my Diary and found it totally corrupt, I tried to delete it from Note Tab yesterday but it didn't work so I guess it was my fault.
I can't remember all that I wrote before but there was seven pages and it has all gone, jeez, how am I keeping so darn calm? I would normally be tearing my hair out at the roots.
Tanya is my counselor and it was her idea to write this diary but I am going to have to restart it now.
So I am now going to write a bit about me......
So I was told by my mother, I was the result of my father raping my mother, when I was born my father wanted a little girl and I was treated like dirt by him.
Apparently I was left outside in my pram and was never looked at if I cried, he tried to drown me in the bath, so much so that I have been scared of water all my life, he beat most days, I went to school with welts across my back from being hit with his walking stick or a coat hanger or even a broom handle and fists.
He stabbed me one day because I got in the way when he was having a go at my mother, he brought home from his works, he was laboratory technician for Beechams, some arsenic, luckily mum knew the smell, it smells like almonds and she knew she never had any almond essence for her cooking so he failed in his attempt.
Then when mum left home the beatings got worse and he started to drink, big time, it was then the sexual abuse started, he made do things that I cannot even write here because they upset me so much, I was finally taken into care at the age of thirteen, so the judge said, “for my own protection” but I had been naughty also and got into trouble with the police by taking people's money from their homes, I stayed in care until I was eighteen, when my mother and her new man, Gerry, agreed to look after me.
I was reasonably happy back then but still had thoughts of my father and all he done.
Not too long ago mum died, 16th December 2004, I feel it was my fault she died even to this day, I persuaded her to have a heart bypass and it went so wrong, the vein that took from her leg and grafted onto her heart came away after a minor heart attack and the veins in her neck burst, stopping the flow of blood to the brain, she was dead and it was my fault, no-one else was to blame, my so called family blamed me and I was threatened with violence if I went to the funeral, I was called a murderer by my so called family and I was texted from my mothers phone a number of times accusing of everything, I know it wasn't him though.
I joined London united back in November 2004 and I was only with the company for a few weeks when mum died and my manager gave me three weeks off without even asking, I have a few problems since being back on the buses but on October last year I was attacked at Raynes Park and it started me to crack up. I started to do things while I was asleep, or so I thought, I had goes at Margaret, I even hit her while I was asleep and I had no recollection of it, then I felt awful as she told me that I had been doing things in my sleep since she had been with me, but she had never told me anything, that I can remember anyway, because my memory of things is terrible it is like I am two people, one that is nice and one that is nasty, a bit like a Jekyll and Hyde character, only difference is that I don't change into a monster.

My partner told me though that I have got worse since mum died, I have also had goes at my daughter and her other half, the worse was at Christmas when my daughter lost her baby, I was so nasty to her that I will never forgive myself, even though she has forgiven me but only because I am getting help via my councilor and my Doctor.

This is when I started my diary, since then so much has happened so I will leave it there for now.