The day i died inside.

The drugs had taken over,my mind refused to work unless i had pumped it full of amphetamines,i could not get out of bed unless i knew there was my drugs there to support me,I couldn't even wash up a plate or cup unless i had taking a hit first.....My life had been quite literally taken over by my dependency on this drug...Friends would try to tell me i had a problem,the money i would spend had a knock on affect on my home life,rations in the cupboard and my shelf with enough gear to do me a couple of days 200/300 pound a week i could spend on this.

I had to i relied upon it to survive...how else was i ever going to cope with three screaming children ,chores ,responsibilities,impossible without my whizz to get me through it.

Having very low self esteem myself once the buzz would kick in i felt invincible,i could cope with everything and more,i would feel good about myself,do crazy things i thought would make my kids lives happier.

I would change the living around every other day decorate the walls once a week yet never ever finishing the job.I would spend a whole day washing clothes only to be so out of it the following couple of days .I would have to throw everything away because it had become mouldy and stinking.

I thought all i was doing was making my family more normal,but in reality i was messing it up for everyone.

I had been awake for 2 days solid and had forgotten my partner had a couple coming round when he suddenly reminded me i panicked demanding he get me some gear so i can sort myself out,he hated me being this way but i would be so nasty and mean he would have no choice but to get me what i wanted...He returned gave me the bag of powder i ran a bath knowing that our visitors would shortly arrive,pouring a huge amount in my hand and stuffing it in my mouth i heaved got in the bath and just sat there waiting .waiting,waiting,"kick in " i told myself "smile get happy".waiting waiting waiting,then the heat from the bath and the wave of rush that flowered through me,was one of the most scariest and horrific feelings i could ever to this day experience,

I began to sob and shake,my heart racing so fast,i believed at that moment i was going to die..i had overdosed on my so called saviour,2 whole days of no sleep or rest and pushing myself to the limit stupidly for the sake of looking normal for people i had pushed myself to far...my head spun like a waltzer,i was steaming not from the bath heat but from my own body heat,i screamed for Sean,he came in the bathroom and i screamed"I'm dieing I'm dieing i took to much I'm going to die"he dragged me from the bath telling me to calm down but i could not stop

I pushed my fingers down my throat to try and be sick thinking that i could get the drugs out of my system only to panic even more knowing it was all ready whizzing round my blood and heart..

I sat in a heap gripping Sean's arms and waited to die.....no one can take those moments of pain and madness from my memory,i was sitting there waiting to die and i could not stop it from happening.

It was then and only then that i realised i had a drug problem.. at those moments of thinking i was going to die i actually said to myself for the first time i had a serious problem..

Now I'm either a lucky person or a even luckier person because I fell asleep in Sean's arms and woke up again....it was not my time it was a warning ...of course the steam from the bath,the lack of sleep,the mass amount of drugs i had pumped inside me,insomnia had got the better of me.

But the truth is it could of quite easily been the way i thought, i could of died, i thought i was dead,i knew that from that moment on i had the biggest battle of my life....The battle with myself had begun xxx

Why are we not enough!

It was not until i had my first child that my relationship with my step father changed,he had always been a heavy drinker,he would easy drown 2 bottles of vodka a day,when drunk he was very abusive and spiteful. When my Scott was born it seemed to change something in him,he became suddenly human,he had this look in his eyes when he held the baby,it was a look that i had rarely seen before,it was this real look of love.

I know some people would say "why let your child around someone that was a drunk" but even though he did drink he kept himself at a certain level when he was around Scott,one of Scott's first words was gandad which elated Yovan,He would have him every weekend without fail from the age of 3 weeks till his death he would pick him up on the Friday and bring him home Sunday mornings.

Although I could never bring myself to call him dad i allowed all my children to call him Grandad because he earned that right and i was not going to take that away from him,he proved that he had a side that was special,even if i didn't see it myself growing up,as Scott got older he could see himself that his Grandad liked a drink and his Nanny as well and that's when the cracks started to appear,Yovan knew he had a problem my mum knew he had a problem and now my innocent little boy his grandson knew he had a problem,many arguments would start because of his drinking and many times we all asked him to give up the bottles,but to no avail.

One the weekend before he died he had Scott as usual but him and my mum started to row in front of him he was 10 years old at the time and rang me asking if we could pick him up.

Me and his dad got there and i can remember it like it was yesterday i stood in the front room doorway and started to shout at him that this had got to stop, that the kids cant keep seeing this happen,god knows it had fucked up my life and i was not gonna allow the same for my children,we exchanged some more harsh words and then he said to me "why don't you ever call me dad" i said to him "you are my dad but you know i cant say it" then he said the craziest thing i had ever heard him say "can i adopt you girl". I laughed out loud replying" don't be mad I'm 28 years old its a bit late to adopt me don't you think", "No its not"he said back to me it was the first time i had ever felt like he was being honest to me.

I sat down on the chair next to him and said with tears in my eyes "i would love you to adopt me but even more i would love you to stop drinking" he looked at me as i went on to say "I love you and the kids love you like mad,don't you want to see them grow up and become adults".

We stared into each others eyes and i started to cry begging him to get help,saying to him"you r gonna kill yourself if you cant give up for me please please give up for the kids,they need you around and i cant bear to watch them watch you kill yourself".

That was the first time and last time i had every seen him cry,he said "come here girl" and i did and sat on his knee,he was a very big man 6ft 7 and a heft 24 stone but as he hugged me he felt like a small child"i love ya girl you know that don't ya"he would always call me "girl' something that i felt was as close to being called daughter."I love you to".

The following weekend came and Scott for some strange reason didn't want to go down there,Saturday afternoon came round and the phone rang my brother was on the other end "Yovans dead"Everything stopped dead my head spun like crazy and my first thought was,how the hell am i gonna tell Scott,i had Kevin and Chey-anne as well but knew Scott would be in bits,the man that had him every weekend his Grandad,the one that taught him to read,write,tie his shoelaces and everything was gone,and then i realized if Scott had been there he would of seen his Grandad die from a massive heart attack to this day i thank the moon that he was not there,

The coroner stated cause of death to be a massive heart attack brought on by alcholisim and morbid obesity, I felt so beside myself that me and the kids was not enough reason to stop drinking and found that so hard to deal with until i convinced myself if only i had had that conversation a little bit sooner maybe he would of tried to fight it and beat his addiction,but my biggest regret is not getting the chance for him to adopt me,even if it was possible at 28 years old,he wanted to be my dad and all to late as is always the way i wanted the same thing.I'm proud to call him dad now even if hes not here he is always around me in music in his sayings and even though they was not real blood every time i see my Scott do something wonder full i say"god your grandad would of been so proud".

A view fom both sides

I am calling this post a view from both sides because I'm going to start from being the 14 year old runaway girl that i was and share my experience with the final part of my post concluding with my now adult opinion.

Right then i was living with my mum & her new boyfriend who i did not get on with,i hated him,he hated me,it was constant chaos,i was determined to get him out of our lives, so i made life hell for everyone.

Whatever i was told not to do...I done...If i was to be in at 9.00pm...I would walk in at midnight...Told not to smoke....so i started to smoke...you know the usual teenage tearaway stuff but me being the destructive bitch that i was didn't stop at just a teenage phase i went the hole 9 yards and put myself out there on the streets just to piss everyone off.Did it piss the family off? Of course it did and most of all i was causing a rift between mum and her boyfriend...my aim was getting closer...I would bolt & mum would come find me...go home argue and do it all over again..each time getting further away from the home.After several runaway attempts things came to a head and both my mum and her boyfriend was extreme heavy drinkers (that was probably my fault as well)my friends were outside the front door waiting for me and i was in a full blown row with both mum and her man.He struck me just the once and called me a slut...everyone outside heard him and i felt humiliated and stupid so i switched into a complete wild animal ran to the kitchen and picked up a huge long kitchen knife,now i was 14 years old and before i knew it my mum was standing in front of me and her boyfriend who was over 6ft tall and quite a big man was rushing out the front door."Victoria give me the knife"was all i can remember mum yelling at me i remember i was spitting and screaming with temper "I'm gonna kill him"i yelled"i hate him" with this he poked his head back in the door keeping his body on the outside and just his head inside "Calm down" he said really nervously"stop being stupid"he followed to say.

Stupid ,stupid i remember thinking just get the fuck away from me and at this point my mum grabbed my hand that had the knife in it and started to tussle with me.She was screaming i was screaming and then i felt like i had stabbed her,shitting my self i turned ran out the backdoor shouting "no no i stabbed my mum.

Just 4 the record i didn't even break her skin,but thought at the time i had,so i ran and ran and slept where ever i could i begged 4 food,slept under a kebab van,made a little camp in a small wooded area just about 2 miles away from my once so called home,weeks went by and i knew by this time that i hadn't seriously hurt my mum but still she had not tried dragging me back like usual,I was not going to go home if she wanted me back i was gonna wait till she came and asked me to.

I had blown it,I went that step to far,she didn't try to find me this time,i had messed up 4 the last time and now she was giving up on me,that was when i felt the most alone in the world,the game of patience had ended and i lost.

Weeks went past each night was scary in the dark on my own,i still saw my friends but was always to proud to admit it was hell and used to lie saying i was in a squat with people and loving it,having the time of my life i used to say,of course it was all lies it was horrid,i was getting ill,starving,dirty and wanted to go home.

I spent many days and hours thinking shall i jump on a train and go to London,i had seen it on the telly,young runaway girls selling themselves on the streets..I could do that i thought it seems like a cool life and at least i would get money.I have no idea what stopped me from doing the London thing i really cant find that memory,a lot of things in past have huge blanks and that is one of them but neither the less i didn't go and stayed in my hometown.

Several months passed and i was becoming so ill i had no choice but to go to the doctors my chest was really bad i could not stop coughing i was sent to the hospital for chest x-rays,and the doctor knew i was not at home with mum and gave me a big lecture on it,somehow anyway mum found out i was ill and we started to have small talks at the local shop where she would buy me bits and pieces to eat,and give me money,but she still never asked me to come home,i knew it was her boyfriend that was stopping her from asking me home,then after several more agonising days coughing and really finding it hard to breath i called up my mum and begged her to let me back,i told her if i stayed out on the streets much longer i would end up dead i was ill and just wanted to come home.

She said she would need to speak to her boyfriend i was heartbroken when she said that,but did not say a word to her in case she blew me off.Eventually she came and met me at the shops and said i could come home,we never spoke a word all the way back we walked in and he was sat in the living room we did not exchange a single word for days,but that was a turn around for me and him you see i think he realised just how much he was trying to be a daddy and i didn't want that and more importantly i realised just how important being at home was.

Why im doing this blog of my life.

Its a simple enough question with a not so simple answer?Why am i telling the whole world all my darkest secrets,why am i admitting i was at one time a low nasty bitch who did not care who i hurt to get what i wanted,why am telling people that I'm so insecure because of my parents divorcing,why am i telling people that my life at one time was so shit i slit my wrists,and why am i telling people that i was a mother to 3 children and spent most of their young childhood off my face on drugs,Why........Well i guess I'm using this blog to show my past is my past,my life was totally shit when i was growing up,and that people do and can change their lives.

Why has it taken me till my 4Th child and my other 3 children being 11yrs 13 yrs and 14 yrs to admit i was not the greatest mother in the world.Well the truth is it hasn't taken me that long for my children to see me for what i was because i have never hidden the fact that i done so many bad things and my children know everything about me from the self harming and living on the streets to the drugs and suicide attempts,they know that i hate my father for destroying my life and the greatest i gift i got back from my children is their respect,they are the most loyal children in the world,I never beat them or abused them once,but i was a mum that was in a crazy mind trying to pretend i was someone else. They love me for who i am and they have learnt through my past without having to actually go through it that they would never go down that path of drugs and drink,they are so strong and have great family values because they know my insecurity and i know they will all make great parents when they are older and no matter what happened in their lives they will always be there for their forthcoming children and will never ever turn their back on me.

A lot of parents would hide all those secrets from their own children and would say that I'm wrong to allow them to know such things,but the way i see it is My kids are so street wise and they know that life ain't no bed of roses and if you want things you sometimes have to fight hard for them,The world is not nice out their and its even harder if you think its gonna be easy,because its not,

One thing i ever really knew from the start was my children would never feel what it was like to be unloved and unwanted,I may not have been there mentally all the time but not one of my kids ever felt like i did not love them,I'm far from the perfect mother i know,but when it comes to what matters in life everything is material except unconditional love and that is what my family have.

So why am i telling everyone this...because I can... I'm not ashamed of who i am.. and leopards really do change their spots.

A friend of mine said last week "i don't look forward to reading your blog because its sad and depressing" I was so upset that i could make someone upset by my blog,that's the last thing I ever want to do.

The idea is to tell my story, show my fight and let the whole world know I'm here,I'm alive, I beat the odds and I'm happy.My blogs wont always be full of sadness they will show the path i have travelled and show everyone the person i am happy to be now.

But the reality is in life bad things happen to everyone,we all see life through different eyes and I'm just allowing you to see life through mine.