The dark years

19th November 2011

What happened next I consider my dark years.  My whole world crashed around me and I simply didn’t know how to deal with it.  I had lost trust in my parents so could no longer trust anybody.  After all I couldn’t trust them therefore I couldn’t trust other people.  I quickly learned to put on a happy face and not talk about anything I wasn’t happy about.  It was quite soul destroying but I couldn’t let my guard down.  I stopped letting anybody get close to me emotionally and I would keep boyfriends at arms length.  If the relationship started getting serious I would split from the boyfriend.  I had this deep rooted fear that I would fall pregnant again then be pressured into surrendering again even though I was using contraception.  To the outside world I was a strong person and at times I was teased by friends that I was an ice maiden.  I would laugh about it yet inside I was constantly hurting.  The emotional pain was so bad that it became a physical pain.  On bad days I would be bad tempered and sometimes I would have bad migraines.

I can’t remember exactly when I started self harming except it was in my 20′s.  Usually I used scissors or knives to cut my arms and stomach.  It was never bad enough to be hospitalised and I was good at hiding wounds on my arms which were never too bad or I would make excuses.  I have been accident prone all my life so it was easy to come out with lines such I had turned round and walked into a filling cabinet.  I still occasionally tried to overdose with tablets but never took enough to do any damaged.

Although I had good friends I became very lonely and isolated.  All my friends were getting married or in long term relationships so if I went out with them it was usually to parties or to the pub.  I had even started going on holiday on my own as it was the only time I came close to being my old self.  Even then I was too scared to be myself.  I came close to having a complete breakdown in my late twenties.  I couldn’t bear being at work being around people yet I couldn’t stand being at home alone.  By this time I was living on my own so felt even more isolated.  I felt like a freak and couldn’t rationalise how to change my life.  I don’t know how I managed not to end my life then as I felt I didn’t have anything to live from.  The thought that my son may want to know me was something I couldn’t allow myself to hope for.  I had been told I would never be allowed to search for him and he would probably be too happy to search for me.  That wasn’t strictly true as I could start searching for my son once he turned 18 and nobody could predict how he would feel.

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About Philippa

I am married to Rick and we live in a small town in County Durham. We have two dogs, a cat and two budgies. I am also an adoption survivor. In 1981 my son was born and I was then forced to surrender him. It took 23 years and reunion for my to find out that my son's adoption was legally known as a forced adoption and illegal but social workers got away with it because mothers didn't know their rights.
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