How does it feel to be raised without a mother? by Dani Tank

Ok so … I’m crying whilst actually typing this. So embarrassing omg … it’s curently 1am and it’s all I can think about. When I was little, my mum was always there for me. Or so, I thought she was. I was too young to realise that she wasn’t exactly an innocent or a pleasant person to be around. When I was 6, my dad got drunk and abused my mum. Domestic violence was an everyday thing for me when growing up. I thought it was normal. My dad hated her and drank away his sorrows. He hated her for abusing his entire family and stealing so much from him. She’s even the cause of his now blindness. But that night, I helped my mum escape to my neighbours house to call the police. I was pale from fear. I thought my mum was going to die from the way my dad beat her to pulp. The police came and arrested him. My parents had been separated. A few weeks passed since that incident and I noticed my mum becoming more and more closed off. Every now and then she’d cry and hold on to me. But those were rare occasions. But eventually, she started abusing me. I’d go to school with cuts and bruises with clear outlines of hand marks or belt marks. But being a young, naïve, little girl I thought it was normal to be abused. I thought it happened to everyone. I thought it was a part of life. It went on for years. And then it was my brother’s turn. My older brother who is 6 years older than me also started to abuse me everyday to the point I’d pass out for minutes at a time and my mum wouldn’t even step in and stop it. She’d either just watch, laugh, encourage my brother or join in. She then started faking back problems as she saw I was growing up and knew that sooner or later I’d find out it wasn’t normal to be abused and I’d tell the police so she came up with a fake back injury to show that she’s incapable of physically harming anyone. She even carried a walking stick with her. She didn’t only physically abuse me, but emotionally too. I finally joined secondary school where I’d made new friends who made it clear to me it wasn’t normal to be abused and needed to speak to a teacher. I spoke to a teacher and they’d contacted all these professionals such as social services, councillors, CAMHS, etc … I was in year 7 at that point. No one believed me that it was that severe even though I was practically covered in marks and scars and raw injuries. My mum was too manipulative and backed up my brother by saying I’d inflicted harm on myself and that my brother had no time to abuse me as he’s in uni and is partying every night. So I suffered for a few more years. Then, in year 9, I’d went on holiday with my mum thinking maybe we needed a break. I was so wrong. I got sexually assaulted by my own cousin! Her brothers’ son!!! I kept quiet about it for a few months since we’d come back to London. When I finally told her, she slapped me across the face and called me a slut. Since the age of 10, I’d only been trying to commit suicide. Then, in the summer of year 10, I’d found my dad and wanted to move in with him. But, it as difficult since of his criminal record. I ran away from home, police brought me back. I tried to run away the same night. It was 13th October 2016. The same policemen caught me, told my mum and brother to snatch the keys off of me. My brother then asked the police if it was okay to hit me in order to retrieve the house keys. The police agreed. I warned the police before they left that if I stayed in that house, I was literally going to die. And they were going to abuse me. But they took no notice and thought I was just some troublesome teen girl with some kind of behaviour problems. They were far from the truth. I had no family. Ever. I only had myself and my neighbourhood cats. After the police left, I was abused. I ran into the kitchen and tried to hold the door shut for as long as possible until I knew they became too tired. I had a phone in my hand and tried to call the police and ambulance but they simply didn’t listen thinking I was still some troublesome teen. Once I heard my mum and brother were tired out, I quietly got up and made my way towards one of the kitchen cabinets and popped painkillers. One after the other. I overdosed. But my mum and brother chose that moment to to continue to hit me and I screamed. My neighbours could hear me and so they knocked down the front door and were shocked. They immediately called for the police and ambulance who were there immediately. I was in hospital overnight. I was meant to be sent back to my mums but I couldn’t. I begged them not to and that I wanted to live with my dad. So then next morning, my dad came in to hospital. It was the first time I’d seen him in years. I then moved in with him that day. It’s now been over a year and a half since that day. I now suffer from PTSD, depression and anxiety. But now, I’ve really realised that since I had no family, I’ve got this huge gap. The place of a mother. A mum to hold me and tell me that things are gonna be okay whilst I cry on to her shoulder. Listening to her words of wisdom. I can only imagine what it would be like to have a mother.

Anyone out there with parents who aren’t physically or emotionally harming you, thank them. Be grateful. You’re so lucky to have a mum :)