Christmas Day

25th December 2011

The past two weeks has been tough.  Two weeks yesterday I was at rock bottom in the first time in over two years.  I admitted to Rick that all I wanted to do was die but I didn’t want to die through suicide.  He made telephone call so I was first taken to A & E then to the crisis team.  After talking to me they decided the best option was home visits and telephone calls.  It has been a tough two weeks but I need to talk.  All I can put this latest trigger down to is that I dream about my mum.  They are lovely dreams and in them we get on well – she is the mum I always wanted and understood me.  In reality my mum never really understood me nor did I know how to make her understand me.  It’s not her fault nor is it mine, it’s just one of things.  It still hurts though that my mum never apologised to me for all the hurt she caused me.  She died believing she had done nothing wrong and I was nothing more than trouble.  I regret never telling my mum what I was going through.  I will always love my mum.

I cannot explain how much I was relieved to be taken seriously about being depressed in 2005.  Up until then I believed what I was told that I was attention seeking, moody and a liar. I know I wasn’t a liar yet that’s what I accepted.  I did know I needed help and that I needed people to believe me.

It is tough because I know that people who don’t know my parents accept me for who I am.  There are other relatives and friends who accept me for being who I am.  All that’s really mattered now on this Christmas day is that my family accept me for who I am.

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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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