Friday, 24 July 2009

Roots. Where it all began

I guess for me, my journey down this road of depression started at Secondary School. I mentioned in my “About Me” post on this blog that I had been bullied all my life. Whilst it was true that it didn’t really bother me to a degree, it certainly did at first. It only ever stopped bothering me because I was so used to it. Yet I still carry around their cruel words in my mind and let them replay over and over again, wondering whatever I did wrong to provoke such hatred.

The turning point for me really began in September 2007 when my Nana fell and broke her hip. She was the only person in my world who I could truly talk to and she would keep it secret and try and help. I was at her house most days. I used to go there after school every day and spend my whole weekend there. So when she had her fall I became extremely worried. She got taken into hospital of course where not only was she diagnosed with a broken hip, but also with severe malnutrition and the early signs of jaundice. Clearly even with my help, she had not been coping on her own. From the moment she left her house the “other half” of the family closed in like a boa constrictor, squeezing the life out of my Nana by removing what comforts she had left. In January 2008 she was allowed to leave the hospital. But rather than letting her return home, the other half continued to destroy her life and instead put her in a care home with only a few photographs to remind her of her home she would never see again. Because of her fragile health, my Nana was on saline and vitamin drips for most of the time and taking a cocktail of different medications. Then, despite the fact she was recovering, the unthinkable happened (I did not become aware of this till after her death)... Without the consent of the rest of the family, the select few who had so far destroyed her life then signed the papers to stop my Nana from receiving any further medication. She passed away later that month.

Just hours after she died they began planning her funeral. The day after they held a family meeting where my Mom and one of my Aunts were accused of being the ones who destroyed her life. They were accused of sending her to the grave by abusing her and removing everything she held most dear from her life. Yet they were the ones who removed everything. They were the ones who had her home up for sale before she even died. They were the ones who signed the papers that killed her. At the funeral they even held up the funeral procession because rather than letting my Nana rest in peace they chose to stand outside of the church talking to everyone. In the many months since she died in 2008 I’ve held a constant, bubbling hatred for those who in my opinion killed her. I’ve only ever seen them once since the funeral and I had to restrain myself from going over and attacking them. Even thinking about it makes me shaky with adrenaline.

Because my Nana was the only one I could ever talk to properly, I’ve kept almost everything secret. It’s only within the past six months that I’ve opened up to some of my friends and to the people on this blog. Even that was only because I had a complete breakdown while talking to Ashleigh and numerous others since. That combined with my dangerously obsessive love for Jade (it is getting easier now), the fact I often feel like I’m not needed or getting in the way of my other friends, plus I know I’ll lose everyone when I leave college is only going to make things worse.

Some things I still don’t know. When your best friends are girls is it normal to feel like you can’t catch up with them or feel like you are getting in the way? Is it normal to still want to kill someone even after more than a year separates me from what happened to my Nana? Is it normal to be feeling lonely all the time and wish to have someone who you can love and who loves you in return? Hopefully these questions and more will be answered in the coming months and years. Otherwise things are going to start deteriorating again.

Till next time,

Steven xx

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