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Posted in Memories | 1 Comment

where there is life we can still continue

 

 

WOW!! It’s been a very long time since I came on here and a lot has been happening.   I have inherited two more grandchildren with another four on the way..I feel blessed.

I have also added several more chapters to my blog, and this time for the first time it’s positive..Despite major setbacks I can say I finally have a real relationship with God. .Yes!  I have joined the many people in this world that are christians, and who others think are crazy..I never thought I would say this. but God is real.

I now have a real purpose, I understand a lot more and I see how by following bible teachings and listening to the holy spirit how things change.  I am glad I got the chance and that God perserved me for a time like this.  many have died before me never knowing who God is.

So I am back after a long period, to continue this journey..as  I am doing this for me to remove all Shame and for mental freedom for me it doesnt matter how long I take as long as I do this.

so everyone is welcome to read my story as my chains are finally broken.. I hear them falling..Amen.

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The maze runner

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It was a while since I told D my plans and I was surprised to see he didn’t complain, he agree to keep the children while I left to go Jamaica for six weeks. At this time nothing sinister came to mind. I was just pleased that he was sympathetic to the fact I wanted to see my family again, this made me relax and in many ways he earned my respect that evening….

I continued with my job as a residential social worker, as well as my course in social work.  I enjoyed my job in the home. It was a respectable job, and I had learn many new skills, which helped me to accept all the bad choices I felt I had made in my life. After all if I had not left home at thirteen years old, maybe I would not have been alone, Maybe I would not have had children, maybe I would not have been raped, maybe eventually mum would have physically abused me less, maybe. I Wouldn’t have met D, or Eric, or P.. Just maybe…

Maybe…

But like a frightened animal I left home and somehow I managed to walk into a maze and after all these years I was still struggling to be free. I was in fact running into walls some high some short and many of these bushes had thistles and thorns in each direction.
Although I didn’t see a bright future, I did see a future where the children were older and I would be free from my current struggles.

So..


As I contemplated moving on with my career I knew that I was going to create a future for my children. For quite sometime I had felt  that I was led by someone or something as the voices were always in my head telling me to press on. I never knew that I would eventually get to understand these voices; At times I felt that someone was talking to me and the feeling that I was here for a purpose was very strong indeed especially when things were going wrong.

Whilst at work I was becoming more involved with the disabled children, my role had changed and I would now plan the summer play scheme for the children , assisting with their hygiene by giving them baths and taking them out, I got along with all the other workers and being at work made me view my whole life differently. I was learning all the time and gaining new independence. During these times I was drawn into another world where the other employees would often talk about their lives at home. The holidays they had gone on or was going to go on. I can recall the first time I heard that one of the ladies were going to a place called Devon and that they would stay in a chalet. I can recall being filled with awe as I assumed they were upper middle class, until I realised years later that anyone could deposit on a holiday to Devon. It was actually just two weeks wages. As I write this I smile to myself at how sheltered my life was. After all growing up with no teaching from an adult sure caused me problems. I thought of myself as Tarzan in the jungle, grown up by animals, in my case the animals weren’t even around. I just grew and learnt from observation of the world around me.

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Google image, chalet in Devon

I hardly had much to talk about, and so would focus on the fact that I had six children and I was under twenty five. I was unhappy my life was stressful but it was no use complaining. No one knew that side of me.

I never told them about D. I didn’t want to…

It was summer at the residential home and we decided to have a barbecue for the disabled children and their families. Whilst we were cooking the food for the children on the barbecue one of workers started talking casually about sending for their children to live in the UK, they mentioned immigration and the rules that were in place, as the conversation continued between the women, I overheard information about the visitors arriving to the UK and naturally I was curious. I knew why, but I didn’t say anything after all, what if none of my siblings would come over to UK. I heard about bank statements and reference and letters, it wasn’t that easy after all. I recall the knot in my stomach but although the conversation I had overhead had me thinking, it wasn’t enough to change my plans.

This was a starting point however, although I was surprised that you needed to do so much before sending for someone. I was a little worried to know that I needed a bank account with adequate amount of money this was something I didn’t have so what was I to do? The idea that my brother or sister would not be able to come because of money filled me with dread. If you recall, I had not told my brother that he was coming to the UK. But I still needed to make preparations. Selfishly I wanted my happy ending.


When. I reached home that evening I went to my neighbours house to tell her what I had heard but without question she said that she would ask her mum and sister to provide the bank statement or they would transfer the money into my account, when the time came. Yes me and my neighbour were close…That was the relationship we had. My neighbour and I. I really loved her.

Well I was beginning to look forward to a future where I was living in the UK with my own family and my children could have real aunties and uncle. The fact that I was now at college had a real impact and on how I saw the future. I was hoping also that this new found interest and career would help me out the maze I had created. I had started to envisage a way out especially as the future was starting to seem clearer. Strangely I felt that D would not be a part of the future, but I didn’t know when…

I spent many nights focusing on the pain I carried around, the fear of D that built up over the years, I looked at how my life had been ruined by the years of mental abuse and physical abuse and it left a bad taste in my mouth I knew I was going to work hard to climb out of this statistics of the abused woman. I wanted undo some of the bends that I had created in my life and although I was certain in my mind that I feared D…looking back on the moment of reflection, I was beginning to see a way out.
As the holiday got nearer I tried to remain calm, perhaps it was because I needed to be careful that D did not change his mind about keeping the children. I performed my duty well at nights, with a heavy heart but it was a small price to pay. I was married after all and I made promises on oath, for better or worse didnt I ?

The Christmas season came and went and although we made sure the children had what they wanted deep down I was miserable. I had hated christmas from as long as I could remember. Christmas always brought back painful memories sometimes I would lock myself in the toilet and cry whilst everyone would be in the living room having fun. I never fully understood why Christmas made me so unhappy…so emotional. Having all my children around I still felt lonely.

The day after Christmas my mood always shifted and that year I was smiling even more  as I was nearer to my trip to Jamaica, I was nearer to my father and I was another step closer to having the family I craved for in the uk.

So the next stop was indeed Jamaica.

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Planning ahead with caution

 

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During the time back in UK, my neighbour and my best friend and I spent many times together, and there was more laughter in my life.  I was also seeing my cousin from Brixton regular so I was feeling blessed.  In addition, life with D, wasn’t as bad as it used to be…he was still drinking excessively  but most times he was sleeping.  Yes, his drinking helped both of us to keep sane.

One evening, around seven months since I left Jamaica, D and I was sitting in the living room,I was writing as usual and  he was watching his sports programme he loved boxing.., D was fairly illiterate due to inadequate schooling in Jamaica, as well as arriving to the UK at the age of 14 .  It was difficult for him to catch up with the British education system. Whilst he was in Jamaica he cared for the yard and his family, so education was none existent for him,  he would still try to teach himself at home, that was one thing I liked about D, he was keen to better himself, but in the meantime he was good at Boxing which was something he excel at, and it was a good pastime.  He had a lot of practice at home in any case.  

D was Stocky build and had put on even more weight around his middle, I looked at him and thought to myself, where was the guy I had met at 14 years old?  Why had he change? or was he destined to be so angry and aggressive all the time?  Then I thought to myself I’m actually afraid of you.  I  really was, but he wouldn’t have known that.. There was something about D. That although I was married to him. I was also deep down afraid. It could be because he looked intimidating or it could just have been because he was a man.  You see…mental abuse was on another level and he used his size to intimidate. I tried to accept that this was my life now but there was something about D that made me not want to test the waters.   I wondered  if it was because he was a trained boxer??

But that wasn’t it, he was simple menacing…

I thought hard about telling D my plans to go Jamaica.  My heart skipped a beat, maybe at the prospect he would say no, or the thought I was going to now test the waters and go Jamaica anyway or because I just didn’t want him to say no.

There was only one way to find out..

I knew that D had been drinking so it really was a good time and I knew I had to tell him soon…I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if I didn’t go to a Jamaica therefore  telling him had to be a better decision.  But before I could say anything, D asked if I was coming upstairs,,,coming upstairs I knew what that meant too. And so I did…..


The next morning before he left for work, I timed it well…

“Guess what” I started.  Speaking to D.

I was speaking to my aunty yesterday “…

“she said as my father was getting older she would like me to come over to Jamaica, she had already told her daughter and she would like us both to come….she said last time was rushed..

Yes!  my plan was well rehearsed.

What about the children? He asked,  I told him I would ask my best friend to help to look after them. Surprisingly D agreed…. I would be going for five weeks I said, I missed out the extra three weeks. Surprisingly D. agreed.

He said he would look after the girls. I trusted him…with the girls he looked after them all equally well. I would find out why D agreed to look after the children. Much later… But for now..

Yes D had agreed that I could go Jamaica,,,alone.
That evening I called my cousins and friend who was already aware.

I had applied to do my access to higher education, and was accepted so I commenced that September.

My children were doing well in school, and the Access course was going as planned, I had worked it out that by the time I was ready for Jamaica, the course would be complete. In any case we had booked our flights for the August of the following year, right into the six -week holidays period.

It was great course and I met other women with children who just wanted another chance in education. I was the youngest on the course and with the most children. At first I felt ashamed and to some extent I was envious of the other women my age who had no children and how easy the strict regime of the course fell into their lifestyle, Nevertheless I was determined to do well.
I was going to prove everyone wrong. Yes… I was going to get an education.
And most of all I wanted to prove to my children that despite major setbacks one could become high achievers.

I was adding new roles to my life. I noticed D had become more hostile, and he was not helping financial, if I wanted money I would have to ask, but he would provide food.  We were two separate people married but living separate financial life. One evening while home alone everyone in bed, I was just thinking when these words pop into my head.

First a mother then a wife
Sexually duties caused me strife.
An unpaid carer during the day
But a paid one at weekends
That’s my life
A new course with added responsibility
Busy 24 hours a day
No time to sleep.
But alas, I have a goal in mind
To see my papa and siblings
One more time,

I recall doodling this one day and laughed to myself. I knew it was true, my love of poetry  had also begun..
English was my favourite subject and I loved learning new words, they were added to all the words I had learnt over the years, but new words continued to appear. The one I like most was determination….


One Day I arrived at work to find that one of our severely disabled children was sick. This was the first time since I was small that the death topic came up and I was surprised to know the old fears had returned. As well as the memories of being forced to look at a dead body by mummy.

I had to work nights and unfortunately I was there when she passed, To say I was petrified would be an understatement. I ran into the room where the other worker was present and stayed there rigid to the spot. The fear from the incident at church was here to stay…. I recall sitting in the office and repeating the Lord’s Prayer over and over. I always did this if you can recall when I was afraid.

I asked myself why did I do this? but at time I never knew, but. I was taught from a young age to read the Lord’s Prayer and this was what I did. Naturally my faith in God was very strong growing up. But I did not know how strong.  I would recall going to the front of church to say the sinners prayers but I didn’t understand, I was always forced by mum to go to the front.  I recall church days being humiliating and uncomfortable I was always singled out, wore the oddest clothes.  I was bullied by the Sunday school children, but I do recall I loved the unseen God and would talk to him like he was my invisible friend.  As a child I always felt that there was someone else with me guiding me it was like a quiet whisper, but I guess I was too young to tap into this, but I always remembered that I would feel calm when I had my bible as well as when I said the Lord’s Prayer.  So this night I took refuge again in the Lord’s Prayer.  My actions then  were revealed to me much later in life.

We will see why later…

Nevertheless having said the prayer I felt calm again. I use to think it was  My mind, but at the time I could never understand why. There was always an inner voice speaking to me.,..an invisible being I was never afraid.

After I left work that evening Farah…death. Made me think about life. I was now scared of dying even more, I had the fear of suffocation, of going down below. To a point it would overshadow my life….
But. I was going back to Jamaica therefore  I couldn’t afford to become sick; for the rest of the year I had minor and major hiccups. I would laugh I would cry but each time it was like my heart was trying to come through my throat, whenever I thought of my family back home in Jamaica….yes anxiety was coming back…

However, this time I welcomed it, after all there was a good reason.  I was getting closer to putting my plans into place.

 

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The wheel of change is turning..

 

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I needed another career, I needed to earn money but what could I do?

Although I fell back into my routine quickly, the money was insufficient as the children were now doing different activities and they were getting older.  I had no intention of asking D for help…

Even though I was more contented I was getting more regular dreams, the good thing was they replaced the dreams of my mother and the dreams were now mainly about Jamaica and the family I had left behind.  My sister and I were always younger in my dreams.  The only thing that puzzled me was whilst I was in my dream,  I would be inside my dream telling someone about the dreams.

How could this be….?

Confusing I know,  but.  I would have dreams of my sister and the rest of family, but whilst in my dream. I was actually telling a my friend about these dreams I was having.  I was also hearing voices, the voices weren’t talking to me as a separate entity but I could hear the voices in my head  telling me I will be ok no matter what happens;  of course I didn’t understand this at all.

But mostly…

I would have pleasant dreams such as….

…walking to school with our father  as a child ,this was long before my younger sister was born,  and my eldest sister would be in front of us with her bag on her back, whilst I would be walking beside my father or at times  skipping, and even as I type this I can picture the scene as I smile to myself.  As I recollect these events I can almost taste the flavor of fudge this was a white  frozen ice cream on a stick.  My father would always bring us some and I can still visualise my father walking up  the lane with these ice creams lollies in his hand recalling how we were like a dogs after a bone.  .

I  was pleased that I was now having pleasant dreams!  This helped me with my next decision, that was to get another job.  I needed another career, I needed to earn money but what could I do? After all I had left school with no qualifications, I had worked my way up, but knew I needed to try to do something else. Although by now I had worked my way up to residential social worker, it felt like it was not enough.


One Day I visited my best friend  we were speaking about various things when it came to me,  that I would become a social worker. After all with my experiences maybe I could help someone else, I was always a naturally caring person, and I loved helping people; So this career seemed perfect.  This sounded like the ideal job, and I tried to convince myself that was the reason, but deep down I knew I just wanted to prove to myself and children that I could get somewhere in life.. I also wanted my mother to be proud of me.   Yes, I was still seeking her absent approval from afar…

Here I was within six months of being back in the country making plans to apply for my social work position at university.  First of all I applied for what we call in the UK and Access to further education, this course incorporated the basics that was needed to access university. It allows individual to receive a qualification as a stepping stone to their chosen career. For instance access to nursing, access to social work, access to business etc..these courses lasted one year full time, although full time was usually 10am-3pm.  It was also  designed  for people like myself whom had left school early for various reasons; and had no qualifications. If you passed this course then it meant you had reached the standards for university.

Yes…

I applied.   But my past came back to haunt me.   As I filled out the form. There was one question that stunned me.     I didn’t realise this would come back, my past was now my present. I thought once I had been to prison that was the end of the matter.  Well according to the application form this was not the case.

As I stared at the question, for the first time I realised that I was a criminal. I felt anxious, my chest was getting tighter as it did during my anxiety attacks.  I took a deep breath and exhaled..

Have you any spent/ unspent convictions?

There it was written in bold , I needed to answer yes or no.   I didn’t know what to do, but although I felt ashamed I ticked YES…  As I filled out the form with a heavy heart.  I started to imagine that I would never get another job.  I felt sorry for myself and worst of all I felt ashamed.  There goes another word to add to the ones I had taught myself over the years.  Yes, shame had reared its ugly head and this particular word left a black mark in my mind.  I had manage to hide my past within myself, and after my probation was over, I had pretended to myself that prison never happened, I had locked my memories away.

I was good at that if you recall; because I had learnt over the years to block out pain with my little game I played with myself.  I would pretend that bad things were not happening to me, but just my body. This allowed me to develop a central power within, that could block out the most severest of pain.  I noticed this had developed more whilst in prison.  It was as if someone had suddenly given me this superpower. I used it well.

Later in life I found out why?…

But here I was with this application form, that was very real, the Yes tick box , well this answer could change my path. And this made me very anxious indeed.  Nevertheless, I filled out the form and handed it in.

I was surprised when two weeks later, I was called for an interview.

I really wanted to have the opportunity to do the course, but I was afraid of being judged, and decided not to attend,  and thought very hard about exposing myself , but the voice was there again telling me to. Continue.  I hated exposing myself and hid behind my mask for so many years, that my mask became a part of my existence.  It was time to make it slip slightly because…

I had children, and I made a promise to myself that they would be proud of me.. I was going to that interview and I was going to be brave…

I was given an offer and took the place,  so now here I was working part-time, going to college during the day , looking after my children and being a wife, the pressure was on.  I was a mother of five  What was worse  I was sleeping in the living room on the chairs.  I hardly got a good nights sleep as  I was very aware and did not want to perform any sexual duties.  I knew this was wrong how could I continue this way?  D was still drinking heavily, but still providing for the home.  Two very messed up individuals living a messed up life.  I assume the children were oblivious to what was going on, and I never made my mask slip.   At school  meetings we were the perfect couple,  I was known as the one that was always smiling  a pleasure to be with.  At college I became the good student, always on time, always handed in my work on time.  I was treated as the model student.

Yes mum taught me well,  I was still a lady.  Still bordering  on the image of christianity.

Well..

After eight months of being back in UK, the solicitor called  and informed me my mum was no longer fighting me for my children she had given up on the idea of custody. She was forced to accept defeat my children would never leave my side again.  This was a relief, the dark cloud was surely shifting. I was still far from happy with my life in UK, but knew this was life now and there was nothing else out there. Despite me being unhappy D remained in the family home.  D loved the idea of family and continued to be a good father… It was at this time D decided to adopt my girls officially and we settled into family life. My children were happy. They never went for anything and to be honest he never treated them differently.

Or so I thought…they were girls after all…weren’t they?  

During those times , I remained in my stance that he was a good father but an awful husband. He did provide for the family, but he remained addicted to sex, he continued drinking heavily, and was still extremely jealous which brought forth unnecessary violence.  The more D accused me of having affairs the more he demanded sex,, and the more I pulled away from him. His action always reminded me of the abuse, every single time.  I had suffered over the years sexually, and physically and it was difficult to get past these feelings. Counselling was never an option, firstly, at that time I did not know how to access it and secondly I really couldn’t tell anyone.

Smiling was what I did best. ..

 


I was communicating with my sister and brother very regular almost daily in fact and I was happy,  I was also speaking to my brother Rupert  over here, and repeatedly telling him thanks for opening the first new doors. He was really pleased  for me as I excitedly told him about my experience in Jamaica and my plans to return. I still hadnt told him about D…they were both as old fashioned as each other.  I didn’t  feel that Rupert would understand.  I also felt ashame, although, I wasn’t sure if because of the age difference, Rupert was more like a father figure.  He was 25years older they also got on well in any case.

In fact I was living a double life. D and I argued constantly, about simple things, and at the time with the pressure of my life I thought I was going mad.   But strangely each time I felt that way.   The voice was always there,,,guiding me on., this voice , this presence I couldn’t understand IT, Until much later in life.

But at that time I  was confused….

My heart was in Jamaica I knew I had to return, I also knew that I would not be living in the UK alone.

I was going to bring back a protector at any cost. I was going to bring back someone who could defend me, a sibling. I was after my brother, the one on the motorbike, and his family. He was rough, he looked mean and He loved me ..I hadn’t told him yet as I knew I still needed to get to know him better.

I would bring them all to the UK and nothing was going to stop me. My savings was coming on nicely too.   Although I longed for a sister I knew I had to put that on hold as a brother was much more priceless at that time.

I needed protection and this had to come in the form of a Man.

This was a decision that would have one of the greatest and shocking impact on my life and my children’s lives…..in more ways than one…

 

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Day dream night dreams…

 

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As the aeroplane touched down onto British soil.  I knew my other life had begun..

The children were not at the airport, but I saw them when I arrived home, strange I didn’t think I had missed them at all, until I saw them, that was because I knew they were in good hands.  Naturally, I was excited to tell them about their family back in Jamaica  and as they eagerly waited for my stories, I sat them down and we spoke and looked  at the pictures, of the family I had left behind.

 

My children loved the gifts that my eldest sister had bought for them; even more because it had come all the way from Jamaica. They  enjoyed listening to the stories as much as I did telling them.  I was surprised at how much I remembered about Jamaica, all the conversations that took place  and the sights I had seen and of course I excitedly tried to transfer this to my children’s memory too.

In the first few days of arriving back to the UK, my emotions were running high and I felt as if I had a tunnel vision as everything seemed surreal.  It was almost as if I was the only one that was real as I watched people going on their daily business.  At home I was able to perform my mother and wife duties  although sadly each time, I tried to perform the latter I  was always taken back to all the previous sexual encounters.   Yes! I was damaged mentally and emotionally, but I did what I had to do to keep the peace.   Each time I would lay there and imagine I was somewhere else, I would try to decentralized my mind.  Although I was fully aware of every thrust, and each time I would turn my face to stop the droplets of sweat that would hit my face from Ds hard work.  But that was the only life I knew.

I needed D, as I needed the stability of my family, plus with ring on my finger I had a status. I knew I need to stop the irrational thinking especially as mum was still in the background, and I  could tell by the pile of unopened solicitors letters waiting for my return.

Nevertheless..

I was bombarded with daily thoughts of the whole family, in particular my sister and brother, the difference this time these thoughts came  with an abnormal obsession to go back to Jamaica.

After being back in the UK a few weeks,  I contacted my cousin, and we discussed going back to Jamaica the following year.  I  discussed this with my best friend too and she was behind me all the way.  She said she would help to look after the children, I knew that this time I  would. go alone, well that was what I was hoping.

My cousin and I put our plans into action.


We decided we would spend two months in Jamaica,   Here I was, this happy schoolgirl ready to embark on a journey alone, no husband, no kids.  Woud I be able to pull this off?  Would D even let me? My cousin and I formulated a plan, we would both blame the other at the last moment. We would suggest that her mum wanted me to come and spend more time with my father, and she would say I wanted her to come.   Whilst I would say the opposite.    I was excited and had something to look forward to.  I wouldn’t tell D anything until the flights were booked, we already had somewhere to stay which was by her mothers, whom I mentioned previously had emigrated to Jamaica.

Yes, I was going Jamaica alone.  For the first time. Yes, I was going alone, the thought filled me with much glee and I smiled to myself.

After few months in the UK,  despite looking forward to my trip abroad, I noticed I started getting those dreams again. I always woke up scared and would glance around my room.  It was as if there was a presence.  But I knew it was my mind.  However,  one other thing I had noticed was that during those times I was thinking about God and the promise I had made to God whilst in prison to read my bible; b they  were fleeting thoughts of God; but I was aware that each time I recalled this  incident it was as if my conscience was bothering me. I would feel guilty without knowing why and as always I would repeat the Lord’s Prayer for safety.  There was nothing significant yet, just a prominent awareness of God. I didn’t like it….

 

Or…these dreams…or were they nightmares?

I had noticed that the dreams?? although quite repetitive the focus  had shifted slightly, instead of crying over my mothers coffin by the graveside, I was now in a church at her funeral which was filled with people, and as I walked towards them they were giving me cold looks.   In this dream I struggled to breathe as I desperately tried to tell the audience that I was innocent.  In the dream they would look at me with disgust. Fingers pointing and nodding their heads at me, in the dream there were only a few faces I recognized, and the ending of my dream  always  remained the same.

I would still shout at them, everyone…

I am not crying because she’s dead, I’m crying because she never loved me”  waking up at this point, sometimes I would just look out the window, terrified.  I would always imagine, that she, my mum, would die and come back for me… And this would always bring back anxiety and panic. I  would often tell my best friend these dreams and she would say.

“yes, I would worry about you if your mum died”, no one else knew about these dreams.

These  dreams weren’t regular but when they came I was terrified, as a result I started having an obsession with dying. My dream problems and the thoughts of dying seem to have started once I returned from Jamaica.  This concerned me, and this was the first time I felt that I was here for a purpose… It was almost as if someone was whispering to me…but the presence was very vivid. At times I would wander if I was going mad but somehow the voice telling me to be strong remained.

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Yes, strange things were happening to me on my arrival from Jamaica.


Over the years I had become very good at living a double life, and as mentioned before, no one knew the trauma I had faced so far in the UK, this was because I was able to imagine I was someone else.  During various struggles in my life so far, I had mastered the art of shutting people out.   I would play a little game by myself, when I would try to imagine I was somewhere else or that any pain I was going through was not happening to me.  I also continued to find ways of coping with the abuse from D, the constant jealousy was another level.   This was causing severe problems in our marriage, there was no reason for the jealousy, as I really didn’t even have the time to worry about men.  In fact the only men I knew was my neighbour and my friends partners.  The milkman the postman and half the time I didn’t even notice them.

After each accusation and the odd slaps, I would just sit in a corner covered up my head with a blanket and just cry, each time I would cry and Disect the problem in my mind, until usually two weeks later, I was ready again for the next problem. Yes, this was my way of coping with life’s problems. My ritual.. I didn’t need to talk about it. Yes, this was my coping mechanism, little did I know that this method would help me cope with many situations in my life.      I had learn to be many characters….until I almost lost me…


But change was coming….. Wasnt it? 

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