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Hi, my name is Shadie
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My unforgettable childhood. Chapter 1

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By jojo_1 Send DollMailSend Email
Created: 2014-01-17 23:18:25 All stories by jojo_1
“I remember when I was younger and my father came into my room early one morning. It must have been like five or six, and he sat at the end of my bed with a sad look in his eyes. I could see that something was wrong but when I asked him he just shook his head and told me it would all be alright. He cuddled me for five minutes before telling me to go back to sleep and that he would always love me and never forget about me. I remember falling asleep with him in the room, I was so happy he had spent that little bit of time with me, as he worked a lot during the day and I rarely saw him. I also remember waking up in the morning to the sound of my mum crying in her bedroom and when I went in there she just hid her head in the blankets and cried waving me out of the room. I left not knowing what was going on. I went and sat on my bed, thinking. I was only seven and just couldn’t work out why my mum was so upset, dad was always at work that early.

Mum eventually came out of her room and told me to get ready for school, that I was going to be late. I wanted to cheer mum up so I didn’t say anything, just got up and started getting ready for school. I remember that the car ride there was really quiet, I asked her if she was ok and she just looked at me with this half smile and nodded. Told me not to worry, to have a good day at school. The day went by really slow, but when the final bell rang at the end of school I was relieved. I would be able to show mum the drawing I made her and dad, I thought we’d have ice cream or something because she’d be really proud and hang it on the fridge for when dad got home that afternoon. But when I got to the school gate she wasn’t there, which I thought was odd as she was never late to picking me up. I sat down and waited reassuring myself that she wouldn’t be long. But she never came. I remember my teacher Mrs. Moore took me into the staff room to wait with her while they tried contacting my mum. But there was no answer at the house and mums phone was off, so in the end they decided to just drop me home.

When we got there they walked me to the door and turned to walk away before I had to let them the front door was locked. It seemed that no one was home. Both mum and dads cars weren’t in the drive way and this was weird. This is where I really started to panic, where was my mum? What was going on? Why had my dad been in my room so early? Why was my mum crying? Why did no one pick me up from school? The teacher was extremely concerned and left a note on the door explaining to my mum, that I would be with her. So I went home with my teacher and I don’t even know how to describe how I felt. All I wanted was to see my parents and I knew something wasn’t right. For dinner I was forced to eat lambs fry, which obviously was my least favourite food at the age, but it was either that or starving.

I ended up getting distracted for a bit, my teacher pulled out the game of monopoly and we played it with her husband and daughter, so I was having a bit of fun. I convinced myself that this was just a play date, that it was organised and mum would be coming to get me. But it got later and later, soon Mrs. Moore set up the couch for me to stay the night. I couldn’t sleep. I cried for a bit, this place wasn’t my home. I missed my home, my bed, my teddies. But most of all I missed my mum and my dad. Normally at this time, they’d be tucking me in bed together and kissing me goodnight. Reading me a story if I couldn’t sleep. Then morning came, my teacher made me pancakes for breakfast and was acting really strange towards me, being over friendly. I could hear her whispering to her husband in the corner, I heard her mention a phone call with my mother and that they’d have to get the police involved or family services. I started to cry, even though I was seven I was imagining the worst, that my mum and dad had been coming to get me and had got into an accident. Were they ok? And no one was telling me anything.

I remember the moment my teacher looked at me and told me where my parents were. She sat me down and she told me that she had bad news. That the reason my mum was so upset was because my father had just left her. That answered two questions, why mum was crying and why my dad came to see me early in the morning. It wasn’t just a nice visit, him being a dad, he was leaving. He was taking off on me, and didn’t say a word. And I didn’t understand why he left my mum, no one ever told me. My teacher then told me that my mum called her to tell her she was gone. That was the worst part. My mum felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. She didn’t want to be a single parent and to raise me on her own. So she just dropped me off school, packed up her house. And she left. And she told my teacher, she wasn’t coming home and to keep me safe and to love me. I broke down and the next thing I knew, I was at family services and they were talking about foster families.

Some stranger was going to look after me and I would have to live with them. I was so scared and so hurt that my parents had done this to me. Neither of them had thought about me. My dad he left because of my mum, not because of me. And he told me he loved me and that he’d never forget. And then my mum just leaves, with not a word. I never got an explanation, so I grew up in several foster homes, where I was treated differently. I knew everyday that I didn’t have a family, because the ‘parents’ were so horrible. They made it clear to me, that I was an outsider and that I wasn’t as important to them as there actual families. I couldn’t get why they looked after me then, and all I wanted was someone to love me. I grew up with no love. All my birthdays for the next eight years were forgotten I had no one to celebrate with, I got no presents, I got no cake, and I never heard the words I love you again.

And now here I am in therapy talking about all the bad things that have happened to me. And this is just the start, all the good in my life was gone in twenty-four hours and replaced with the most unimaginable child hood. That’s why I’m here, Im trying to move on and get my life on track. I want to get away from the bad decisions im making and im having trouble doing that because I cant seem to move on or forgive my parents for making this my life. I could of finished high school and went to college and made something of myself, but I feel like part of me is missing and it’s a big part. I feel like im worthless and that I don’t deserve to have love in my life and at the same time it’s the one thing im looking for. And the second I get close to someone and having that special person in my life, I push them away and end up lonely and heartbroken again and I want to stop. I want to give myself the best life I can, while I can.

I recently lost someone who had become quite close to me, they were just a friend that I helped while I was working in the retirement home in the centre of town. They had cancer and I read to them, kept them company. He was sixty years old and none of his family came to visit him, and he was getting sicker and sicker and I felt sorry for him. But at the same time, I felt a connection. Neither of us had family there for us to support us and get us through tough times. Sadly two weeks ago he took a bad turn and now I feel lonelier then ever. I lost my only friend, the only person who was there for me and it hurt. And it brought up so many bad memories and that’s also when I realised I needed to do something about my life, I need to make a change and this is my first step.”

I lay there in the therapy chair blinking my tears away, this was the first time I had ever talked about it. I felt relieved to have finally gotten it all off my chest.

“Great job Shadie, you’ve done a really good job today. I know this isnt easy for you but you are making a good decision, you need to move on from all of this because you are capable of so much and your holding yourself back. I want you to come back for an hour session next week, hopefully we can get a little deeper about the foster family situation. I think it would be good to get that out in the open and to work on that. I have got an activity for you this week to complete and bring back, just so we can monitor how your going at home and whether or not this is helping. I’d like you to start up a diary. You don’t have to write everything in it, im not interested in reading about what you had for breakfast or cleaning that you do or anything like that. I want you to mainly focus on what we’ve talked about today. Any time it crosses your mind I want you to pull out your diary and write it all down. All your thoughts, all your feelings. Get it out and if you need to Shadie, cry. Your allowed to be sad, you’ve gone through so much in your life and sometimes crying helps to get all that emotion you’ve been holding onto and bottling up, out. Get it out, remove it from yourself. Next week I’ll collect your diary off you, we will have our session and I will read your entries and we will discuss them right then and there. Can you do that for me?” My therapist asked looking over her note book.

I thought about what she had said. Keeping a diary seemed like a good idea, it’d help me express myself when im at home. “I can do that, see you next week.” I got up and walked out of her office and paid the lady at the reception. Once I got home I sat down at the dining table with my diary in front of me. Why not make a start, I decided and opened up the first page.
  

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Posted On: January 18, 2014
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