Childhood Trauma (Dealing with my past demons)

unrecognizable person holding hand of partner abusively
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Todays post isn’t going to be the easiest to write for me unfortunately as it will be about Childhood Trauma. As most of you are aware if you managed to read my personal introduction. This blog was created to document my personal journey to finding myself and to help others to do the same. The journey for me began back in 2017 when I began my university degree. And it has been a very slow process so far of coming to terms with things I have been through in my past. So far I have managed to process a few things that have been going on more recently. However, I have decided from today I am going to be real and raw.

I have decided from this point on whenever I am going to start processing things it will be here. Writing has and always will be a release for me. And so I decided to really start to tackle my past demons one step at a time so that I am ready to start the next chapter of my own life. And the way I will be doing this is by starting right back at the beginning. My Childhood Trauma. And so without further ado let’s get into it and I hope this post helps you all in some way to realise no matter what is going on in the world you are never alone.

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The childhood trauma of the early years…

Life was never easy from day one in my family from the moment that I came into this world. I was born two years after my parents decided to get married. At the time my mother was working full-time as a nurse in the local hospital and my father had been working in the local ship building yard. However, soon after I was born my mother was forced to go back to work and so I was under the care of my grandmother most of the time. That was all until around a year after my birth my father was made redundant. You’re probably thinking oh she then went on to be raised by her dad but sadly things didn’t change. In fact as time progressed whilst my father wasn’t working things would only get worse.

For obvious reasons I don’t remember anything about this period of my life but I would often be told about it. You see whilst my father was unemployed much to the frustration of my mother he wouldn’t seek other employment. In fact he would do the polar opposite. He’d spend most of the time he had with his friends instead of raising his daughter. Due to this my parents would often argue until they separated briefly and my mother and I moved in with my Grandmother. I’m not sure how long that was the case for but around the age of 3. My father would finally man up and get himself a job whilst going back to college to better himself. And soon enough things started to get back on track between my family from what I am told.

Starting School…

I would start school at the age of 4 years old after being sent to nursery. (For more information on the English school system click here). Almost from day one at school I started having a hard time. You see I am a very shy and quiet individual and I struggle to interact with others. Because of the way I am sadly that made me a prime target for the bullies. My first encounter with a bully was when I was just 5 years old. I can still remember this day even though it was over 20 years ago. But I had been playing by myself on the playground which was a usual occurrence. I had been climbing on the climbing frame. However, when I reached the top of the structure a female classmate decided it would be funny to push me off.

Falling to the ground all I can remember is the sickly snapping sound then pain. Being taken to the hospital I would be examined for the Doctors to say that my arm was badly injured but not broken. And so they suggested rest and not much movement of the arm for a week till I would need to go back. Doing what I was told the pain over the next few days would increase. Then my mother took me back to learn that not only was my arm broken. Oh no, it was broken in two different places. And so I was removed from the school and started at another one midway through the year. Being the new kid is never an easy transition. However, for me things seemed to go well over the next few years.

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Transitioning to High-School…

Throughout the rest of infant school and juniors things couldn’t have been smoother. The bullying had completely stopped. I had friends, I was rather well known for my singing in the schools. And often was given really fun opportunities that I am forever thankful for. My fondest memory being the close bond I developed with one of my teachers.. Mrs Rixom. Sadly though this would be short lived as I started high-school. The first part of my first year was a big adjustment for me. I had to learn how to navigate the school, take on new classes and much more along the way. The first thing that would start to cause the trauma of my childhood was the first ever loss I would experience in my life. Sadly, In the January of my first school year of High-School my grandmother was diagnosed with Cancer.

Unsure how long she had left we would spend as much time as possible with her. But sadly on January 14th we would learn how she had not been able to beat the disease and had passed away. Losing my Grandmother was one of the hardest things to go through as we were extremely close. I have so many fond memories we shared over the years she was in my life and I know wherever she is in the beyond she’d be proud of who I am becoming. Dealing with the loss I would isolate myself from everyone in my life and I struggled going to school which would be made worse just before the summer.

The downward spiral into my childhood trauma…

Towards the end of my first year of High-School things would go from bad to worse. And I would start to lose trust in everyone around me after a certain incident that we will get into now. Throughout most of my first year I would hang around with a specific group of people who I truly classed as friends. But sadly I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was a Sunday afternoon when there was a knock at the door and stood there we’re two of my ‘friends’. They would go on to ask if I wanted to play out. After receiving the approval of my parents I headed out to what I honestly thought would be a fun day. However, the day would take a drastic turn…

Heading to our usual hang out spot we would meet up with the rest of the group. This was normal at the time so honestly I thought nothing of it. Up until around 30 minutes later one of the girls grabbed me by the hair and started attacking me. Trying to defend myself by fighting back I was pinned to the ground whilst they continued. In the end I was left on the ground beaten, bloody and betrayed by the only people that I trusted. Managing after a long while to make my way home I was taken to the hospital. Left with a broken cheek bone and two black eyes from the ordeal it was safe to say that the police and the school ended up being involved.

Light in the darkness…

To be completely honest not much was done about what happened to me. The best thing to come out of it was that I had to move class but why move the victim instead of the attacker? Sadly things wouldn’t stop there as over the next 4 years of High-School I would be continuously bullied. Not only by my peers but also by some members of staff which added to my childhood trauma. But luckily for me I found a way to navigate through that dark period of my life. And that is all thanks to two clubs I would decide to join in my third year at the school.

The first club that I decided to join was the school choir and during that time it made my life better. Not only did I start to make friends including one of my best friends to this day but also travel opportunities. Not only was I given the chance to perform at The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden, London but also Disneyland Paris. There were many more trips that I would take during my time in the choir, however, the two mentioned were special. You see growing up I was always scared of staying away from home without my family. I couldn’t go to sleepovers as I’d often get extremely homesick and end up going home. But when I was in both London & Paris I truly got to experience fun away from home even though it was still a school trip.

New Experiences…

Throughout my time in the choir yes it was amazing and I had so many new experiences. However, Choir wasn’t what made my life a better place in the long run it was a weird little nerd club. A little bit of back history about me before I tell you about the club though first. For as long as I can remember one of my biggest passions is history. Especially the Victorian and the Viking era’s and I have an unhealthy obsession with Norse Mythology. And so it was no wonder when the school announced the club I jumped to join which helped me deal with my childhood trauma.

In my third year of High-School, much like with the choir I joined a club known as the Viking Club. The club aimed to teach the history behind the Viking Era in a fun way. And over the years we would be given many cool opportunities. Not only would we be given the chance to visit Jorvik Viking Centre in York but also Whitby Castle too. Amongst other things we also got the chance to participate in many archaeological digs. These were led by a member of the group during his degree study. I met some of the best people during my time in the club and we would grow extremely close over the next few years and beyond school. And it’s safe to say that some of these people (well most) were the reason that I managed to survive my childhood.

The end of it all

And with all that being said that brings us to the end of todays post. If you liked what you read please give my post a like. Feel free to share on social media or join our free email list. By joining our email list you get freebies each month and regular updates. But until next time, Bye guys!

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