Childhood

I have never spoken about my personal issues before, well... not this kind of personal.
My childhood was great. I had a great family, a new baby sister and everything was good.
Up until about 11 or 12, I argued with my Mum A LOT. I remember nearly every time we visited my poor grandparents house, they would witness a unexpected, unnecessary argument from me and my Mum. The arguments were totally pointless, but at that age, everything is dramatic.

Around the age of 10 or 11, I remember my parents having a row. We ended up staying over at 'nannies house' and I often shared the same room as nanny, or stayed in a row (with two beds), with Mum.
I didnt really understand at the time why they were fighting. But I do remember feeling scared in the morning times, knowing he'd either arrive at the house or that we'd see him at home.

'Him', referring to my dad. Im 26 now, and things haven't changed, and the fear and torture never went away.
Around 12 years old, me and my dad have a massive argument. This results in me listening to him and my mam complain and moan about me at the sitting room door and me storming in saying 'I CAN HEAR YOUS YENO!!'. I dont know what I did, but my dad was so outraged, that he ran after me, caught me by the hair, and nearly hit me.

I never gave up, as a kid, nor as an adult. So i fought back. I ended up attacking him too, but was too scared to continue so I'd run up the stairs, with him chasing me, and I'd manage to lock my bedroom door, just on time before he reached me. He'd bang on the door, shout, and struggle with the door handle for hours, torturing me and not leaving me alone.
It was all because of the one poison he could not live without - alcohol.

I remember my Mum telling me about an argument between her and my dad, when I was baby.
The story is confusing. However, a row broke out between them, which led to my dad driving away (whilst under the influence), with me sitting in my carrier in the back of the car. My Mum told me countless times that she feared he would drive into the sea, killing us both.

However, Im not sure if this was the same night, but my dad attempted to drop me off at my 'other' nannies. But she refused to have me. Either way, there were a few occasions where I went missing and where my Mum cried herself to sleep, thinking she wouldn't see me again.
Another story my Mum told me, happened before me and my sister were born.

The argument (whatever it was over), led my dad to dragging my Mum by the hair, down the street (outside their home) dumping her at the end of the street, refusing to let her back inside. I believe she was pregnant with me at the time.
Around 11/12 years old, I thought about running away so many times. I remember having a lock on my door for years. How or why it got there, I dont know. But it sure helped me avoid a black eye, that he luckily, never managed to give me. Unfortunately, my Mum wasn't so lucky.

Over the 26 years of my life, my Mum has been punched, abused, shouted at, left bruised and has been this close to proceeding with a restraining order.
My dad has been aggressive with me, but never actually harmed me. Instead, he always took it out on my Mum by calling her the 'C' word, by hitting/attacking her, by calling her 'fat' and by insulting her family.

Years and years and years of torture. From a child, to a young adult, to a fully grown adult, there are still days today that I lock myself in my room, hands shaking, heart beating fast and breathless. All because of him. All because of alcohol. Tortured. Abused. Living in fear. And nothing, will ever be done about it.

From the very beginning

Hay everyone!

So for privacy purposes...I'm going to stick to 'Marilyn' here. For some, it's going to be pretty obvious about who I am! And others...will be reading my blogs...not knowing who is behind it all!

Basically I'd like to go right back to the start. For anyone remotely interested in reading about someone's life when it comes to heartbreaks, sexual experiences, job experiences, travelling, self-exploring and pretty much trying to figure it out...well I guess you should read on :)

Before I talk a little bit about myself NOW, I'd like to go back to when I was a teenager and take it from there. Compared to now, at 15 or 16, I was shyer and inexperienced than most. I was very wise, sensible, SORTA liked studying (?), wasn't THAT experienced when it came to boys and also didn't have a large group of friends. As a young adult, I was very curious! At 15, I was definitely a little confused. At 16, I was even more confused. I might as well say it now...I wanted to be sexual. I wanted to explore boys and go out more. But I was shy and didn't go out much and was afraid to be disliked. That all changed though when I started hanging around with my 'hippy group' of friends. I started dating a boy (not going to name anyone), which only lasted a month. I only really wanted to date him to see what it was like kissing a boy (a lot) and having a boyfriend. Unfortunately, I wasn't really attracted to him! So I broke his heart and started seeing his mate. His mate wasn't really my type either. I think I lasted a little longer with this one...maybe 3 months this time! But with this one, I experienced my first feisty dominant self within a relationship when he texted me 'playfully' calling me a slut. I wasn't having any of that, little miss feministic 16 year old was not having any of that. As I turned 16, I invited my friends to the cinema and then back to mine for beer and dancing out in the garden. He was invited of course but before the cinema, when I met him at the spire...I took him to one side, took the present that he had gotten for me off him and said 'thanks for the present! But you are uninvited to my party. If you wish to come, you can. But you'll be ignored :)'. And so I walked away, with his present in my hand and my friends accompanying me. Yea I know, I'm a little bitch.

So...this is where it gets much more romantic and nicer than before. So we had a big enough group at this stage...I was getting more confident and was attracting more boys. I was funny and didn't take myself seriously...But I must confess to something. While I was with boy no.2 (the one who called me slut), I found myself DEEPLY attracted to another boy! And while I was with boy no.2, I was actually texting this boy (I'm gonna call him boy no.3). And our conversations were hot and heavy and flirtatious and fun and really what I wanted more than anything was to get my hands on him. There was something attracting me to him...He wasn't exactly gorgeous to be honest. He wore glasses and dressed like a rocker would in 2008. But he played the guitar...and a boy who played an instrument (to me) was super hot. So we texted and texted and I realised more and more that boy no.2 was actually pissing me off and I just didn't like him any more. SO...boy no.3 ends up coming to the cinema and back to mine for drinks for my 16th birthday. Of course we were flirting and talking all night and looking at each other like *that* and up until then, I had never wanted someone more than I wanted him. We could finally be together (and all that shit). But we were both very shy that night and didn't end up kissing. Parties for me back then lasted until 00:30 or 1am so they were all kicked out around that time and the party was over. A few nights later...me, him, my gay mate and his friend are hanging out in my gay mates house. We're watching something on the TV and me and boy no.3 are edging closer and closer together on the couch. I wasn't concentrating on what was on the TV at all...and my gay mate totally knew what was going on between us. He took me aside and asked if we wanted to be alone and I felt rude so I said of course not! I paid more attention to my other mates then but couldn't ignore the throbbing sensation down below, because let's face it...I wanted him there and then but had to control myself. Eventually after some socialising and TV watching, me and boy no.3 leave and make it to the corner of where my gay mate lived before he wrapped his arms around me, pulled me in and started kissing me. And we kissed for AGES...no gaps or breaths taken. It was passionate, it was sexy, I could feel how turned on he was getting and by then I was just soaking and 'gaggin for it' myself. We didn't do anything more than that and we actually didn't see each other for a week as he was off on holliers the next day. When he came back...we couldn't keep our hands off each other. When at his house, we would eat and watch TV, kiss on his couch, hire up the volume on the TV when we were being naughty but still being aware that it was his sitting room and someone could walk in at any minute. I remember unzipping his jeans while kissing him and taking him in my hand and rubbing him fast and then slow and then fast again  until I thought he was going to explode. He would do the same to me and I would moan silently. But then before anything more happened...we heard someone outside and so we  reset everything, acting normal and innocent in front of his mam who was now standing in front of us. Assuming that his mam wasn't a thick, we were pretty sure she knew the suss and not long after that, she sent me home. We texted all that night and pretty much saw each other A LOT in the next few months. Never got to the point of having sex with him, as he broke up with me 6 months later and I experienced my first proper heartbreak. I was sad for days, cried for days and just wasn't OK with it all. I then experienced anger and hate towards him and realised what a fucking idiot I was! And at this point, boy no.1, 2 AND 3 are no longer talking to me nor are they my friends. And with all of this, I lose a few girlfriends in the process of it all and then a few more friends on top of that!

So, I sit the Leaving Cert, get LC results, head out for dinner and then back to mine with a few friends. And amongst them is boy no.4, who I don't really like and end up breaking up with him not even a month later. This boy takes it quite bad as well...so bad that he stands outside my house on some occasions in the middle of the night...just...looking at the house with a very upset look on his face :/ Um, OK.

I'm pretty much over boy no.3 at this stage and starting my first day at DCU, aged 17 and entering a course that I'm not overly excited about. And that whole shebang will be continued in my second blog entry!

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of my first blog :) I will have a range of things to talk about but this is just the beginning. I've about 8 more years more to cover :P

Ciao for now <3