A couple of weeks ago I found out that my aunty had given my parents my address. This I have found so scary. I am not blaming my aunty, I know how manipulative my parents are, but it has left me in a position where i feel even less safe in my flat. I know that they are not likely to just turn up, they are much more likely to write or ring me, but that doesn’t take away the fear, i want to move again, but will I have to just be on the run every time they find out (and I am sure they will). This has lead me to thinking about a lot of stuff from my past and how I have been trying to run away from them for all of my life.
As I have said before my childhood was not the happiest, it was extremely abusive from both parents (sexually with my dad and emotionally with mum), I hated being at home and would do anything I could do to not be. I would go to school when I was ill. I remember when I was 17 I had been in hospital for 5 days and made myself go to school the next day so I wasn’t at home (I had my A' Levels coming up, a very good excuse!) and I often felt like running away from home.
I studied hard at school to get into uni. Going to uni was my escape. In some ways I didn’t care where I went and what I studied as long as I wasn’t at home. It was my chance of freedom...or so I thought. The abuse continued while I was at uni.
When I was in my second year I met my ex. in some ways this was the happiest time of my life. Although he made me change, I wasn’t allowed to be unhappy/upset etc. etc. etc., but he left me alone. Kev was my chance to escape. I would have tried to change my whole personality to be with him, but, if I am honest, it was to get away from them more than wanting to make Kev happy. This is something that I have only just allowed myself to realise. I did love Kev, but he was also really bad for me. After we split, everything started again. I stayed in north wales for a while, but being so isolated meant that my mental health got worse and I ended up living back at my parents (where it continued to worsen) something I promised myself I would never do.
But, it’s not just the physical running away I did, I ran away in my mind. I managed to not be here when physically I am, it makes me safe, away from the nasty horrible stuff, the painful stuff. Not just the sexual abuse by both my dad and the group of men, but as much as I could I hid away in my mind. It’s called dissociation, and the easiest way that I can describe it is I loose hours at a time, when I can appear like any other member of society but me, my soul is hiding away.
I also have different personalities where my mind has split, they are different ages, different sexes, I don’t really know how to describe it, but if you search for multiplicity me on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/user/MultiplicityAndMe) she explains it very well.
This all used to be useful, more than useful a survival tactic, but now it’s dangerous for me. I am more likely to self-harm when I am dissociating, the whole thought process from deciding to cut to completing the act I am not aware of, the last few overdoses I have not been aware of. No longer is it a safety mechanism. But I still use it day after day to run away from the crap my parents have left in my head.
Will I ever be able to run away from them? No. if I do manage it physically, they have left scars in my mind, and that’s meant that I have left scars across my body.