When a parent dies everything changes. I walked up the drive of my childhood home to be greated by my father who broke the news that my mother had died. I cried, he cried, we stood in the drive hugging each other knowing that we would need to walk into the house and see my mums family. They had already been congregating there before I had even arrived. Dad has said in no uncertain terms that no one was to "tell me" about my mum until I arrived. He knew I was travelling through from Glasgow and didn't want me breaking down on a bus, little did he know...

So as you have probably worked out my relationship with mother was not great! One of the biggest issues I have had to deal with my entire life is what people thought of my mum! You see on her good days she was great to be around and the life and soul of the party. She could be funny, and a fantastic person but when she was bad she was terrible. Most people remember my mum as the fun loving, party girl who loved to laugh and spend time with her family. They remember the woman who tried for 12 years to have a much wanted child and was a hands on auntie. For years she and my dad took all of my cousins here, there and everywhere when their own parents were working or too busy. As a family we had some great times. We never had much money so we instead of fancy holidays we went day trips in the car. We travelled all over Scotland just the three of us and the dog. She could show incredible kindness to strangers and always tried to help others.

While working in Sainsbury's I met one of my best male friends, Iain otherwise known as Pat or The Big Chap. Iain was the store cleaner and a BIG guy in both size and personality. We would rip the shit out of each other mercilessly and he had one of the biggest booming laughs I've ever heard! He made me laugh so very much. Our Sainsbury's team consisted of me and  Iain along with Neil, Janie and our manager Jean.

Uni life began with a bang! I packed up my stuff and my parents drove me through to Glasgow the Sunday before uni was due to start. I had my room key for the halls of residence and made my way into the building. It was the "newer" building I would be living in and my room had an en suite...which would be idea for hangovers and my ibs flair ups lol! The flats were 6 individual rooms off a main hall with a shared kitchen and living space. I had no idea who I would be sharing with or even if we would get on. It was all very stressful but exciting at the same time. 

I don't remember when I started or at what age. It just felt like it was happening. A constant darkness in my childhood. But at the time I was so young I hadn't realised it was wrong. Being constantly told it had to be a secret or I would get into trouble and my parents would be upset because they don't understand how "special" I was! Was I "special"? Or was I being used. I never felt special only confused. Confused that someone who was supposed to look after me and protect me, wasn't. They were hurting me. They were breaking a family trust, taking my innocence and ultimately fucking up my life on a regular basis! I could take all the cliches in the world and they still wouldn't cover what happened. 

I had a very difficult relationship with my mother. She was from a big family and her father was a coal miner. He was a hard drinking and hard hitting kinda guy. He worked all week in the pits got his wages and headed to the Miners Welfare to spend it. He would frequently come home drunk and take his frustrations in life out on his wife and children! Beatings were common place and because my mum began to stand up to him she was always singled out for the worst time. It left her with a very odd way of how you should being children up. She hated her father for everything that he did but unfortunately she ended up becoming him. 

It's cold, I can see my breath. The wind and rain are battering against the window like a burly Policeman trying to gain entry. I pull the cover up under my chin and reach for Toby, my jack Russel to snuggle into me for warmth. His breathing is deep and steady and offers some small comfort. Lying in my childhood bedroom, the walls covered in old boyband posters I could be forgiven for thinking I was 15 again, worrying about makeup and who potentially fancied me at school. Instead I'm 40 filled crippled with insecurities and my head is bursting! Bursting with memories of better times and simpler problems by reality is never far away. Creeping in like a dirty stop out after the walk of shame. The darkness is everywhere, engulfing me like a black cloak.

When a parent dies everything changes. I walked up the drive of my childhood home to be greated by my father who broke the news that my mother had died. I cried, he cried, we stood in the drive hugging each other knowing that we would need to walk into the house and see my mums family. They had already been congregating there before I had even arrived. Dad has said in no uncertain terms that no one was to "tell me" about my mum until I arrived. He knew I was travelling through from Glasgow and didn't want me breaking down on a bus, little did he know...

So as you have probably worked out my relationship with mother was not great! One of the biggest issues I have had to deal with my entire life is what people thought of my mum! You see on her good days she was great to be around and the life and soul of the party. She could be funny, and a fantastic person but when she was bad she was terrible. Most people remember my mum as the fun loving, party girl who loved to laugh and spend time with her family. They remember the woman who tried for 12 years to have a much wanted child and was a hands on auntie. For years she and my dad took all of my cousins here, there and everywhere when their own parents were working or too busy. As a family we had some great times. We never had much money so we instead of fancy holidays we went day trips in the car. We travelled all over Scotland just the three of us and the dog. She could show incredible kindness to strangers and always tried to help others.

While working in Sainsbury's I met one of my best male friends, Iain otherwise known as Pat or The Big Chap. Iain was the store cleaner and a BIG guy in both size and personality. We would rip the shit out of each other mercilessly and he had one of the biggest booming laughs I've ever heard! He made me laugh so very much. Our Sainsbury's team consisted of me and  Iain along with Neil, Janie and our manager Jean.

Uni life began with a bang! I packed up my stuff and my parents drove me through to Glasgow the Sunday before uni was due to start. I had my room key for the halls of residence and made my way into the building. It was the "newer" building I would be living in and my room had an en suite...which would be idea for hangovers and my ibs flair ups lol! The flats were 6 individual rooms off a main hall with a shared kitchen and living space. I had no idea who I would be sharing with or even if we would get on. It was all very stressful but exciting at the same time. 

I don't remember when I started or at what age. It just felt like it was happening. A constant darkness in my childhood. But at the time I was so young I hadn't realised it was wrong. Being constantly told it had to be a secret or I would get into trouble and my parents would be upset because they don't understand how "special" I was! Was I "special"? Or was I being used. I never felt special only confused. Confused that someone who was supposed to look after me and protect me, wasn't. They were hurting me. They were breaking a family trust, taking my innocence and ultimately fucking up my life on a regular basis! I could take all the cliches in the world and they still wouldn't cover what happened. 

I had a very difficult relationship with my mother. She was from a big family and her father was a coal miner. He was a hard drinking and hard hitting kinda guy. He worked all week in the pits got his wages and headed to the Miners Welfare to spend it. He would frequently come home drunk and take his frustrations in life out on his wife and children! Beatings were common place and because my mum began to stand up to him she was always singled out for the worst time. It left her with a very odd way of how you should being children up. She hated her father for everything that he did but unfortunately she ended up becoming him. 

It's cold, I can see my breath. The wind and rain are battering against the window like a burly Policeman trying to gain entry. I pull the cover up under my chin and reach for Toby, my jack Russel to snuggle into me for warmth. His breathing is deep and steady and offers some small comfort. Lying in my childhood bedroom, the walls covered in old boyband posters I could be forgiven for thinking I was 15 again, worrying about makeup and who potentially fancied me at school. Instead I'm 40 filled crippled with insecurities and my head is bursting! Bursting with memories of better times and simpler problems by reality is never far away. Creeping in like a dirty stop out after the walk of shame. The darkness is everywhere, engulfing me like a black cloak.

When a parent dies everything changes. I walked up the drive of my childhood home to be greated by my father who broke the news that my mother had died. I cried, he cried, we stood in the drive hugging each other knowing that we would need to walk into the house and see my mums family. They had already been congregating there before I had even arrived. Dad has said in no uncertain terms that no one was to "tell me" about my mum until I arrived. He knew I was travelling through from Glasgow and didn't want me breaking down on a bus, little did he know...

So as you have probably worked out my relationship with mother was not great! One of the biggest issues I have had to deal with my entire life is what people thought of my mum! You see on her good days she was great to be around and the life and soul of the party. She could be funny, and a fantastic person but when she was bad she was terrible. Most people remember my mum as the fun loving, party girl who loved to laugh and spend time with her family. They remember the woman who tried for 12 years to have a much wanted child and was a hands on auntie. For years she and my dad took all of my cousins here, there and everywhere when their own parents were working or too busy. As a family we had some great times. We never had much money so we instead of fancy holidays we went day trips in the car. We travelled all over Scotland just the three of us and the dog. She could show incredible kindness to strangers and always tried to help others.

While working in Sainsbury's I met one of my best male friends, Iain otherwise known as Pat or The Big Chap. Iain was the store cleaner and a BIG guy in both size and personality. We would rip the shit out of each other mercilessly and he had one of the biggest booming laughs I've ever heard! He made me laugh so very much. Our Sainsbury's team consisted of me and  Iain along with Neil, Janie and our manager Jean.

Uni life began with a bang! I packed up my stuff and my parents drove me through to Glasgow the Sunday before uni was due to start. I had my room key for the halls of residence and made my way into the building. It was the "newer" building I would be living in and my room had an en suite...which would be idea for hangovers and my ibs flair ups lol! The flats were 6 individual rooms off a main hall with a shared kitchen and living space. I had no idea who I would be sharing with or even if we would get on. It was all very stressful but exciting at the same time. 

I don't remember when I started or at what age. It just felt like it was happening. A constant darkness in my childhood. But at the time I was so young I hadn't realised it was wrong. Being constantly told it had to be a secret or I would get into trouble and my parents would be upset because they don't understand how "special" I was! Was I "special"? Or was I being used. I never felt special only confused. Confused that someone who was supposed to look after me and protect me, wasn't. They were hurting me. They were breaking a family trust, taking my innocence and ultimately fucking up my life on a regular basis! I could take all the cliches in the world and they still wouldn't cover what happened. 

I had a very difficult relationship with my mother. She was from a big family and her father was a coal miner. He was a hard drinking and hard hitting kinda guy. He worked all week in the pits got his wages and headed to the Miners Welfare to spend it. He would frequently come home drunk and take his frustrations in life out on his wife and children! Beatings were common place and because my mum began to stand up to him she was always singled out for the worst time. It left her with a very odd way of how you should being children up. She hated her father for everything that he did but unfortunately she ended up becoming him. 

It's cold, I can see my breath. The wind and rain are battering against the window like a burly Policeman trying to gain entry. I pull the cover up under my chin and reach for Toby, my jack Russel to snuggle into me for warmth. His breathing is deep and steady and offers some small comfort. Lying in my childhood bedroom, the walls covered in old boyband posters I could be forgiven for thinking I was 15 again, worrying about makeup and who potentially fancied me at school. Instead I'm 40 filled crippled with insecurities and my head is bursting! Bursting with memories of better times and simpler problems by reality is never far away. Creeping in like a dirty stop out after the walk of shame. The darkness is everywhere, engulfing me like a black cloak.