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.
