When you fall over and cut yourself, you know what you need to do. You clean the wound and if you need to, you put a plaster on it. The process is there, we all know it and we all trust in it. I never knew how to heal my mind or even how to look after it.
I was always very confident as a child, but it was easy to be. I was in that protective parental bubble. By my early twenties it soon became obvious to me that I wasn’t sure who I was on my own. I was never really in tune with my own mind, my own thoughts and feelings.
I became very influenced, very easily and within a year had dropped out of university. I was in full on self-destruction mode and the only way to do that was to go on the missing list. I ended up sofa surfing and had a strong, unhealthy relationship with all things toxic. All I focused on was anger for not measuring up to someone else’s expectations. I never stopped to think about my own. I was too angry.
When I had my son, it did calm down for a while but eventually developed into a post-natal ball of mess. I had a lack of financial stability, emotional maturity and an ‘I just don’t care’ attitude. I thought I had no place in the world.
I just wasn’t important enough.
I was so out of control that I was at the ‘lost cause’ point but I started to realise that I wasn’t the woman or the mother I wanted to be, and that part hurt.....
I accepted that I was always going to be that way, and this just was who I was.
So, every bad decision wasn’t a surprise because I was already a failure.
I knew it, my family knew it, my friends knew it.