Majidah Stokes

About my life and what I had to go through.

Drame Déconseillé aux moins de 13 ans.

#life #abuse #
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Unusual And Unique Child.

From the moment I came into this world, it felt like the universe had a surprise in store for me. I've often pondered the idea of a soul finding itself in an qunexpected body or race, adding a unique twist to the cosmic puzzle. Born with a physical disability that presents daily challenges in mobility and communication, navigating the intricate web of family dynamics has proven to be quite a journey. Surprisingly, early on, the doctor hinted at my uniqueness, suggesting a struggle to connect with my great grandparents graciously took me in, perhaps seeing a special bond that needed nurturing.

Growing up, I faced overwhelming moments, mistakenly attributing them to personal shortcomings. Upon reflection, I realized these emotions may have stemmed from enduring years of physical abuse at the hands of my mother's partner. Regrettably, my mother was aware of the situation but chose not to intervene, leaving me to question her role in the abuse.

Amidst a whirlwind of surgeries and placements in care, my mother, her partner, and my half-siblings lived in a granny flat behind the house. Unfortunately, my circumstances deteriorated as the abuse escalated. Her partner, doubting the legitimacy of my disability, subjected me to violent outbursts. Accusing me of faking my condition, he physically assaulted me, hurling me onto the bed with force.

By the age of nine, my mother's partner had vanished from my life, leaving behind fleeting glimpses of my mother. Our interactions became scarce, mainly revolving around her seeking financial assistance from her grandmother. Occasionally, she would take me away from the safety of my great grandmother's care, neglecting to ensure I had enough to eat or drink. Despite my great-grandmother's willingness to provide support, my mother continued to remove me from her care, perhaps as a means of asserting control.

Remarkably, I found moments of amusement and perseverance throughout the ordeal, feeling as though my father's presence and watchful eye were always with me. However, the situation with his family was starkly different. Their refusal to acknowledge me stemmed from their disdain for my mother's behavior and attitude, particularly towards his mother. Despite this, my grandfather expressed a desire to meet me, prompting my great-grandmother to arrange a visit. Tragically, upon our arrival, my father's mother demanded our immediate departure, and before I had the chance to meet him, my grandfather passed away suddenly.

A similar experience occurred with my grandmother on my mother's side, though this time, I was the target. I believe her behavior towards me was influenced by my disability, which perhaps didn't meet her expectations, although I believe I did. Unfortunately, she never gave me a chance, nor will she ever. Reflecting on her past, it's clear she wasn't the epitome of a nurturing mother. My hope is that someone within our family can disrupt this pattern. If not, this cycle of behavior will perpetuate indefinitely, casting a shadow over the lives of future generations and their offspring.

I am convinced that my great-grandmother and grandfather harbored a profound love for me, and I earnestly hope that my deep affection for them was equally evident. Yet, as a child grappling with a physical disability and Asperger's syndrome, I frequently experienced a profound sense of being misunderstood, not only by my great-grandmother and grandfather but by virtually everyone I met. Back then, I was oblivious to my Asperger's diagnosis, a revelation that might have greatly ameliorated my circumstances. It was only in my late thirties that I was finally diagnosed, a discovery which I intend to explore in the subsequent chapter of my book in greater detail.

At the tender age of three, I began my educational journey, a period that I found immensely enjoyable. My eagerness to learn and unleash my creativity was limitless. However, my schooling was marred by a challenge I found less appealing: the need for physical and speech therapy. This necessitated frequent absences from class, leading me to miss out on crucial learning opportunities that I believed should have taken precedence. Despite this, my great grandparents and the school administration were of the firm conviction that addressing my disability was of utmost importance. They perhaps believed that my disability would improve significantly with this intervention.

However, this experience only heightened my nervousness and anxiety, reinforcing my belief in knowing what's best for my own body and health. My body had been mishandled and misdirected by individuals who, despite their confidence, lacked a true understanding of my needs. Their motivation seemed more financial than genuinely caring, leaving me to question the quality of care when those indifferent to patient well-being were in control. It underscored the importance of entrusting such matters to those who genuinely care and possess the necessary expertise.

I deeply despised being placed into care, particularly in that dreadful facility. It felt as though I was wandering amidst the spirits of those who had passed away there. Moreover, the food was appalling; for breakfast, they served sheep brains, and for dinner, they would concoct a mixture that closely resembled vomit. My stays there were frequent, necessitated by my great grandmother's numerous heart attacks or when my family was away. Additionally, following my surgery, I had no choice but to return. The initial few times I was admitted, I was overwhelmed with emotion and cried inconsolably.

During this tumultuous period in my life, my mother was constantly expanding our family while maintaining a youthful spirit herself. Unfortunately, the children did not experience a conventional upbringing; they encountered significant obstacles due to her actions. She coerced them into procuring drugs for her and exposed them to substance abuse. Moreover, she restricted their social interactions, fearing that spending nights at friends' houses would have a negative impact on them. Although she permitted the boys some freedom to play outdoors, she insisted that the girls remain indoors to assist her, particularly when I was around. Consequently, I suspect they may harbor some resentment towards me, among other issues. Nevertheless, I recognize that it is not entirely their fault, as my mother can be challenging to manage when things do not go her way.

She consistently engages with everyone, from her friends to my late father, in a similar manner. However, she seems puzzled by the distance that people keep from her. Her attention appears to be primarily on her own feelings, with little consideration for others. My mother is struggling with a mental illness, yet there is a noticeable absence of support to guide her towards seeking professional help. As I grow older, I find it increasingly challenging to navigate this sensitive situation. Despite my late great grandmother's sincere attempts to help her, my mother remains unaware of the available support and often retreats to her bedroom. Consequently, she expresses sadness over what she perceives as a lack of support from those around her. She questions why the family seems to be distancing themselves from her.

My great grandmother warmly embraced my mother into her home, upholding the legacy of hospitality she had shown me. Despite the obstacles that prevented my mother from receiving care from her own mother, my great grandmother graciously stepped in and raised her. However, upon my arrival, my mother struggled with feelings of envy towards me, as I received a lot of attention from my great grandmother and grandfather. She often feels the need to assert that she was the favored one before I came into the picture. Over time, I have learned to tune out when my mother starts speaking, but I find it challenging to be in the same room as her due to the negative energy she exudes. It appears that she disregards my feelings, as she always has. It is now time to gracefully step aside and focus on living my life to the fullest.

I have always admired my great grandparents for their exceptional qualities. Despite any disagreements they may have had, their enduring love for each other always shone brightly, and they never failed to care for me. During my formative years, I pushed boundaries and learned valuable lessons from my mistakes. I felt different from other girls my age, but accepting these feelings presented its own challenges. I kept my inner struggles to myself, uncertain if my great grandparents would understand or support me. I worried that my mother wouldn't comprehend and might try to change me. I once believed there was a fundamental flaw within me and kept it hidden for years, but now I refuse to conceal it any longer. I will not alter myself for anyone because I am unapologetically and authentically me. If others do not accept it, then I am indifferent, as I have finally found peace within myself.

Having the ability to entertain myself was crucial for maintaining my well-being during the challenging and anxiety-inducing encounters with my mother. As mentioned earlier in this chapter, spending time at her place often meant going without basic necessities like food and drink, which added to the hardships I experienced during those visits. Not only did I lack proper care from my mother, but I also had to endure the humiliation of being targeted by the other children who would deliberately bully me by urinating on me when I was outside. The constant fear and bullying tactics left me feeling exposed and alone. Their cruel actions frequently triggered physical responses from me, which only served to intensify their amusement as they mocked my distress.

21 Mars 2024 09:09 1 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
Lire le chapitre suivant Entering Pre Teens Years.

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Nathalia Marins Nathalia Marins
It is a strong and powerful life history and I am keen to read following chapters to know more about the write
March 27, 2024, 22:23

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