Monday: Story Time: My mother.

Once upon a time…

Kidding! This isn’t a fairy tale and it is completely non-fiction. Here goes. Remember: if you’re sensitive to these sorts of stories, please don’t read.

Okay…

So my mum and dad were never married. From what I can gather from what I’ve heard (which is mainly from my dad), my mum wanted a girl and well she got one but after I was born my dad proposed and she said no. Only using him to get a girl (they had my brother as well, my little one but that’s a whole other story). So my mum started having me during the week and my dad had me at weekends. But my mum would stop that whenever she felt like getting back at my dad. So I was used at this sort of weapon from a young age.

Anyway, she used to just give me to my dad sometimes when she wanted to go out and pick up men and stuff. Then my brother was born and she used to chuck us both out. Basically when I say chuck out, she’d put us outside and lock the door. One of the ones I remember the most, well two. One is when she left us out and it was getting dark and my brother was quite young and he was getting scared and I have 60p in my pocket and bought two lollies from the ice cream van (because in those days you could buy stuff quite cheap). We ate them and wait for our dad to arrive either I’d call him on my mobile for just such an occassion (I was given a phone about the age of 5 incase this sort of thing happened). Our dad lived about 30-45mins away, which couldn’t be helped because his place was lovely but it meant we had to wait in the cold. The other time is that mum and I were arguing so I used the landline to call up dad, I snuck the phone book out her bag and rang him and whispered that he should come fetch us. Then when mum and I began arguing again, I told her and she cried and started playing some ridiculous song to which this day I can’t listen to and crying over me and stuff. Then dad came and I left which my brother.

So you’re starting to get the picture. Well this story is mainly about why ALB and I now live with our dad. The story really starts abotu 6-8months before the event.

Basically, I gave my mum a choice: me or her boyfriend. She picked her boyfriend over me. She always needed a boyfriend. I told her he used to hit me. She didn’t believe me so I went to live with my dad but my brother stayed. I lived with my dad, I missed my brother and he missed me. So with the promise that my mum’s boyfriend was gone and that things would be different and that I’d live with ALB again and be able to protect him, I went back. But if ALB wasn’t living there, I probably would not have gone back.

So I went back. But want to know what I learnt several months later? When I walked into that house HE was there! My parents manoevered me around the house so I wouldn’t see him. My dad was concerned with keeping the peace and he didn’t know what had gone so I, out of logic forgave him.

Anyway after that my mum and I had arguments everyday. She drank a lot of brandy. Doors slammed, words were said and she always hated me for being able to best her in an argument and she’d just swear, lock herself in her room, drink brandy and ignore me for days before one of us had to apologise, but we were both stubborn. Anyway, she began to slap me a lot. Sit (that’s right ladies and gents. Sit not hit) and punch my brother. But she always made the excuse she was ill. Like hell she was. Well she was but not enough for it to be an excuse.

Anyway, ALB and I went to live with our dad again but mother said let’s go on holiday and try and sort this thing out. It was a typical English holiday to a place like Butlins. Well, the setting was. The night after we got there we did what we do on majority of holidays. My brother, me and my dad would go to the arcade and just waste a lot of money on stuff, the funnest part was the two penny things where you put a two penny in and it would get caught and it push the other two pennies knocking two pennies or a prize into the box underneath. My mother never came, usually she’d stay in the caravan watching big brother (and she wonders why I was a daddies girl). But this time, she walked the dogs and due to a miscommunication or whatever we didn’t turn up to buy her a drink (she couldn’t get it herself because she had dogs) and so when we got back to the caravan, there was a big argument and my dad left and we were there with her. But she would not let it go. Remember I was about 10-11 and my brother was about 7-8 then. She’d remind us in any argument. I’m not going to lie, some of it was fun. At the end of the week, dad picked us up because he wasn’t going to let down his children just because of her. Then my brother and I were stuck in a bad situation because neither of us wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings. Long story short, we stayed with our mother.

Anyway the next few months were just filled with arguments and just bad stuff. I’ll give you another example of her fabulous parenting. Just before I get to the main part.

In the Christmas holidays of 2008 (when all this was taking place) we went to town. Mother, me and my brother. Now I don’t care which country you come from, if your county celebrates Christmas and you go to town in the Christmas holidays, it’s busy and you risk dying. But we went and we went to Primark (as well as a bunch of other shops) which is VERY cheap clothes shop, I learn in the next few years why but I digress. Now Primark is busy on the best of days, it has two levels and the lines are always long and my brother and I were joking about. We got bored. Our feet were hurting so we were hiding in the clothes and all my mother wanted was leggings. But she lost her temper and left. We then got in an argument and we got on the bus on the way home. The next day, my mother gives me some money for McDonalds, leggings and bus fair and make me, aged 12 and my brother aged 9 go to town, at Christmas, on our own. Some of you may say: Fuckin’ hell you’re 12. Grow up. But in our country it’s not really accustommed for anyone under the age of 14 to go to town on their own. So we went. It was fun. We went to Claires and got some Christmas earrings, got the leggings and went to Mcdonalds. Anyway, by the time we were getting on the bus it was about 7pm and it was dark. We were a few miles away from our bus stop when the bus stops and everyone is asked to get off because there is a smell of cannabis on the bus, so people are left standing in the cold. So they’e checking people’s tickets but my brother and I had lost ours but the bus driver let us off and the plan was to get another bus. But the other bus broke down. So we decided to walk it. It was far, dark and cold but I just had to get my brother home in one piece. As we were walking, I tried on my earrings and my brother played with the toy he had gotten and we walked home. We got home around 9ishpm and our mother just took the leggings and said thanks.

Anyway, main part:

So it was February 2009. Wednesday. I was ill because I had been playing in the snow the day before. I can’t remember if I had the day off or we just didn’t go. Anyway, I caught a chill in my back because the coat I wore kept riding up. So I wasn’t going to school. So I was asleep (yes, I did used to sleep). When I heard shouting so I went to see what it was and I saw my brother just playing on his PS2 (or some such console) and my mother was yelling. So I asked my brother: “what happened?”
He said that she wanted him to walk to school in wellington boots but he didn’t want to walk or go in wellington boots but then he said that he would walk but didn’t want to go in wellington boots. Anyway, I got involved and finally got my brother to agree to wear the wellington boots but she said “no you’re not going now”. It’s school. Not a fun extra curricular activity. At that point, I gave up and went back to bed. At about midday I was woken up and she told me to hurry up and get dressed because we’re going shopping. So I did and as we were driving she called ALB a (I really do want to apologise for the language and I mean this in no way offensively), she called him a: cunt. (Sorry). Which made me mad. I wasn’t a naive child. I knew what swear words meant and I knew the ones you should and should not say: bitch, bastard and fuck being okay. Twat and cunt being bad (sorry). So I took over the argument from my brother. Now the usual shopping route is we park down this road, go to the shops on this street (like a high street but not) and then do the big shop at Tesco. But the usual road she parked on was full so we had to park in the car park of the park which was at the bottom of the road she usually parks on. We got out and she is just continuing this rant! So I stop by a tree and she carrys on walking, she turns around and says “what you doing?” I told her that I refused to be shouted out down the street like I was some idiot, so she either stopped it or she didn’t. She walked on. I got on the phone to dad and basically said “prepare yourself, think she’s gonna chuck us out again”. Anyway, she came back and told us to come but when she saw I was on the phone, she walked off. So we went on the park itself and we saw her walk to her car and drive off but not before telling us to walk home. So we called dad but he lived half an hour away. So we were left on an empty park, full of snow with the only company being a druggie who worked at the nearby shop. She came back once. To swear at us and say her peace. Anyway, 10mins passed. I was ill. We were both cold and the benches were covered in snow so we couldn’t even sit down. Which is when I said that we could go wait in a shop and when dad came, if we ate anything, he could pay for it. I would of liked to see how that would happen. But people were a hell of a lot more trusting 3/4/5 years ago. But as we were walking up we saw dad’s car pull in so we went in his car and got Mcdonalds.

But that wasn’t the last time we saw her. She rang TEN days after the fact about school clothes. Dad went to pick them up. A few weeks later we went round to pick up some stuff because she and dad agreed that when she phoned to say the police had phoned her (see that story on Wednesday (I think)). We went and we stuffed as much in our bags as we could. The rest of it would be picked up later in black bags by my dad. All my stuff would smell of weed and smoke. The weed is courtesy of the half brother I have on my mum’s side who I no longer consider my brother. I didn’t like him anyway. Think he didn’t like me because mum wanted a girl, not a boy. Plus she chucked him out the house on a permanent basis at age 14.

In September when all the other drama in my life had settled down we met at this pub. Now I didn’t want to be there and neither did ALB but dad persuaded us so we went. She tried to kiss and hugs us but we pulled away, you might think that’s mean but we were still mad! We sat and ALB and I used any excuse to leave the table. One of the excuses for me was I needed the bathroom. So I went but didn’t need to do anything, so I fidgeted with stuff. Took a facebook profile picture – yes I was the girl at that age. Which is then when my mother came in. She started telling me how she had the fiancee and how we should go on holidays together.
I told my dad everything when we left and he wasn’t happy.

At this point you might be thinking: I know what she did was bad but she is sorry and in previous posts you said she might be mentally ill.

Well, maybe if we continued with seeing eachother every other Saturday, things might have gotten back on track. But then these things happened.

At this point I was at highschool and ALB was at primary school and it was a 15minute drive so we were often late to get him but he didn’t mind. He’d hang with his friends or hang in the shops and then beg us for match attaxs because they were the in tradable card and it wasn’t the worst system in the world. But one day, he got in the car and said “mum was at teh gate and started kissing me in front of my friends” – well done to her for knowing just how to embarass her spawn.
I was sitting in the front and there was a knock at the window, I turned and didn’t believe my eyes. It was my idiotic brother and mother. They told dad to give mother back her few grand. Now my dad had it for I dno really, legal reasons for my mother and my dad was refusing to give it back till child support was arranged. When I was living with my mother she got £200 a month plus money off the government because she had told them we had an ‘absentee father’ and she refused to pay anything. So my dad said that he’ll keep that money and she never has to pay. Anyway, my dad drove off and I got angry because my friends and my brothers friend’s saw. She chased us round the country till my dad got out and threatened (he wouldn’t of done it) to smash the car so they drove off.

Now this is getting rather long so the highlights:

After that we went to court to get a no contact order. We got no direct contact but indirect contact such as letters were allowed. Not like you could stop in anyway. But after 2-3 years of going through courts and cafcass we got it reduced to only a birthday and christmas card.

She came to my school several times, pissing me off and embarassing me. She also did that to ALB.

She and her fiancee tried to chase us on the way to school so they could prove we didn’t live where we said we did and so dad gave them a tap and there was no damage but next time in court there main concern was getting money to repair the car.
There is more but who has the time to read all that.

Current feelings: I nothing her. I don’t miss her. I don’t hate her. I really just never want to see her. Like she’s a stranger to me. So am I upset about it? No, I can honestly say I am not.

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