Self Expression Magazine

I Need To Write Or I Will Breakdown – Childhood & Death

Posted on the 04 October 2012 by Therealsupermum @TheRealSupermum

cid 91B4ECECE17747BBA5C2290E89010215@emmarichardsPC I Need To Write Or I Will Breakdown   Childhood & Death


I don’t know why it has hit me like a ton of bricks, like my husband said it’s not as if we were close. I have not seen my uncle in over 5 years, he’s not even my uncle, he’s my great uncle, yet his death has knocked me sideways.

I remember him well, he was associated with happy memories from my childhood and that’s maybe it, I don’t have many happy childhood memories and that hurts. I can’t remember being young, I have no memory of my younger years, why?

I never went without, was not neglected nor abused yet something was missing. Growing up feeling that your mother didn’t love you was tough, my dad drank and my mom worked, that is all I remember. I felt loved at my grandparents’ house. We went to visit my granddad’s brother 2/3 times a year. I loved it there.

I lost my grandad years ago, followed by my nana 9 years ago. I don’t want to write that, I still can’t believe she left me. This has opened up old wounds I had patched over.

Why do people promise things and break those promises?

She promised to always be there for me and like everyone else in my life, she lied to me

I remember the day she died, we had been chatting on the phone about meeting for lunch, her telling me not to be late. I put the phone down to get ready and within twenty minutes she was dead. A blood clot killed her. She died after putting the phone down to me, came over funny and hit the phone buttons, my mums number rang on saved numbers and that was it.

My mom phoned me to tell me the paramedics were working on her; they were there in the background. I never got to say goodbye.

I saw her in the chapel of rest, I was angry. Her nails were painted purple, she would have hated that.

I fell to my knees, heavily pregnant as they lowered her into the ground. I could not visit her grave for years. The last time I visited her was over 2 years ago now, the day a so called friend tried to have me sectioned.

If she was here then I maybe would not be the way I am now. She would have allowed me to speak out sooner, she could have saved me. Taboos were made in our family; mental health was the biggest one, but why? Nobody will tell me. I need to know why. It could help me understand who I am.

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