The unexpected incidents of life
I'm Esme and this is my story, unexpected Incidents and events
who have shaped me into the stronger person I am today. I'm
starting not at the very beginning, but at age 11, this is when
Depression and anxiety started to rear its ugly head. Everyone put it
down to just typical teenage hormones, it will pass, but in the years
to come it would be realised that it was more than just hormones
changing... let me not get ahead of myself, first a bit more about
me, my name as I said is Esme Partridge... oh the names and jests my
surname caused during Secondary school were soo funny... NOT although
some of the attempts to insult did amuse me after a while. Anyway to
give you more of a mental visualisation of me I'm 5.8", pale
skin, dark brown eyes, brown hair, have glasses for reading or work
which I very rarely wore during school as it wasn't cool to have
glasses unless they were designer. Also like a typical teenage girl I
would skip breakfast rather having the extra 10 minutes of sleep I
began using pocket money to buy a bacon cob at break times and then
skipping lunch too, not eating the lunches my mum provided me with
but eating sweets with my tutor friends as being seen eating seemed
terrifying to me.
At age 12 the Self-loathing thoughts started, along with typical
teenage hormones changing, the pressures of secondary school life,
homework, general teenage life problems, figuring out what social
group you were going to slide into whether it be by choice or
association, the need to be classes as or associated with the popular
kids and of course the growing depression slowly emerging in my head.
My eating habits worsened, breakfast did not exist not even from the
cafeteria at school and lunch because just fluids and occasional
crisps and chocolate with friends who offered persistently. Chewing
gum was the only thing I ate on a daily basis not that it gave me any
satisfaction or nutrition, once I would get home finally able to eat
in private the urge had usually passed but I would force myself to
eat something although some days the hunger was strong filling my
stomach with pains and groans. After a meeting with my head of year
as my tutor and a few teachers had voiced concerns about my moods I
was assigned a regular slot to meet with a Casey counsellor linked
with the school, I tried to keep this secret but after weeks of
regularly disappearing at a certain time every Tuesday people started
asking questions. I told one friend who was also getting the
counselling she understood the urge to keep it quiet, we first met in
the support centre, who knew me and Morgan would later become
inseparable. Someone saw me going into the counsellor one Tuesday and
it was spread round the class that I must be crazy and suicidal...
this decided my social fate I was then branded as an Emo... although
this I didn't mind as so was Morgan, I started to spend more time
with her and the gang I would later see as my friends too, yes so
some of them were odd but they were kind to me.
At age 13 I fell in with what most people would view as the wrong
friendship group but to me Morgan and the other girls were my sisters
and anyone who was their friend was cool with me. Most of Kristyn's
friends were much older and a few involved in petty crime or dealing
and using drugs but not the ones we were close to, our friends were
just either "emo" looking for somewhere to sit and blare out
music or skaters using the skate park some may not have been great
influences but they also never pressured you into doing anything or
trying anything most were just pretty cool people who didn't ask
questions and treated you as one of their own. Titchfield Park became
our weekend spot, every Saturday we would meet and see who would be
there and what would happen that day, taking it in turns each week to
buys junk from across the street and sit snacking all day on typical
bags of crisps and sweets or once we got back to our destination for
the night ordering chips and all sharing 1 carton as being school
kids we were clever with money, the less we spent each week the more
we had in case of emergencies such as finding someone who would
purchase cigarettes for us or needing that extra 1 to buy body
sprays to mask the smell of cigarette smoke on my clothes and hair.
Sometimes if it was someone's birthday or during a holiday or
weekend where we were all sleeping over at Kristyn's when her
parents were away her boyfriend would go buy everyone a bottle of
whitestorm, a horrible tasting cider but it got you drunk and was
1.20 a litre... to young messed up teenage girls this was the
greatest thing to numb your mind. During the summer holidays police
would patrol the park checking for underage drinking or illegal
activity, it was very rare they would cuff anyone as everyone knew
who they would check and where to hide things during a patrol...there
was one incident I will always remember, some underage girl was
noticeably wasted and when asked to empty her bag attempted to run...
instead she fell over, her top fell down and she threw up on the
police woman... needless to say they took her away. Weed was always
around even if you weren't involved someone would be smoking it or
dealing it but being a goody two shoes as the rest of the group
usually put it I would never get involved and neither would my group
of girls, we were just there as its where Kristyn and Morgan's
boyfriends and mates always hung out and no one would judge.
I started self-harming to deal with my emotions but always cleaned
and dressed my wounds afterward to avoid infections and anyone
discovering my coping strategy. During one of my weekly visits to the
support centre to meet my counsellor who was either never there or as
useful as a chocolate teapot, one of the School support staff saw the
bandage under my blazer. She pulled me into a side office asked me to
remove my blazer and forced me to remove the bright white bandage
revealing the deep gashes on my wrist I had done the night before. I
was put in isolation until my head of year and the deputy head who
was also the student welfare officer were able to see me... by this
time I had broken into a nervous wreck mascara streaming down my face
the realisation I had been caught becoming a reality. My mother was
called they didn't tell her over the phone, just she needed to get
to the school as soon as possible as there was an emergency. I knew
that the welfare officer would tell her and I thought she would be
angry. They put me in the vacant counselling room, took away my bag
and all items from my pockets, they left me with my drinks bottle and
a soggy tissue and in my small plain isolation room that contained
only a chair, a desk and a wall clock waiting for the escort to meet
my mother and welfare officer every minute felt like ten, the clock
seemed to get louder with every second. My eyes stung from salty
tears and my mouth was so dry no matter how much I drank. After what
seemed like hours the kind faced support staff member collected me
from my cell with my bag and belongings and walked me through the
courtyard into the main building and up to the office. It was end of
class and students slowly started to appear from classrooms filling
the courtyard and halls, I wanted to run and avoid being seen on my
walk of shame but every step my heart felt tighter and tighter I
didn't want to face my mother she was my world I couldn't hurt
her. I walked up the long office corridor into the welfare office, I
saw my mum she was sat opposite the lady, she too was clutching a
soggy tissue just like mine with red eyes. My heart broke as she
grabbed me into an embrace and sobbed into my hair "why sweetheart,
why didn't you come talk to me, please tell me what's wrong" we
both sat and the officer asked me to remove my blazer so she and my
mother could see what I had done. I once again revealed the three
large deep gashes down my wrist and forearm, I could see in her eyes
she was distraught at what I had done. Seeing my mum in bits truly
did break my heart but I also knew that I couldn't tell her what
was wrong as I didn't know why I was feeling this way. After a long
meeting and once the welfare officer made phone call to my GP who
arranged to see me straight away, me and my mum left in a hurry down
to our next meeting. The meeting with the GP consisted of the same
heartbreak, tears and questions as the welfare officer, once it was
over we both went home I went to my room and quietly cried into my
pillow until there was nothing left, that night I heard my mum crying
in the bathroom...another part of me died inside. I was watched day
and night by school and at home... I stopped harming and continued
with my bad eating habits skipping food as much as I could do I
wouldn't gain too much weight, until they relaxed the watch. I
started being more sly where I cut. I was becoming very agitated and
defensive from all the whispering and rumours. I was so angry all the
time and occasionally felt waves of rage come over me, instead of
hurting anyone else I would use the rough walls to remove my
knuckles. The GP referred me to CAHMS, before the method of treatment
was decided I had to attend various assessment meetings, some were
just for me some for me and my parents and some just for them. I
started seeing a counsellor she was young, blonde and polish she
tried her hardest to get me to co-operate and open up in our weekly
meetings where I wouldn't talk just hide in my jumper and glare at
the strange woman facing me. This is when they decided medication
would help. The cutting got worse again, it was the only thing I felt
in control of, my pain release.
Everyone has that one major school crush, for me it was Cameron.
We met when I started secondary school being put in the same tutor
group I saw him every day. He was a class clown and would torment me
daily but that's what I liked about him. We were from different
friendship groups he was popular and cool, I was smart and classed as
an "emo". Not wanting to break the sacred rule of not
fraternising with another popularity level we messaged secretly first
through facebook, then via text message. We talked daily, before,
during and after school. During one of our games of 20 questions he
asked if I fancied him, obviously not breaking the rules I was honest
and told him about my crush. From then on we both kept with the act
of being rivals and secretly exchanging messages and looks across the
classroom... typical Romeo Juliet storyline right.... Or so I
thought. Both of us whilst messaging had been In relationships that
we weren't happy with and both using as a cover or at least I was...
he just wasn't getting what he wanted from his younger, pretty,
popular girlfriend and saw me as an easy opportunity. Age 15 in
October during half-term I got what I wanted he broke up with his
girlfriend for me, being nae and in love, I let him take my
virginity. I should have listened more during what I saw as one of my
mother's lectures, she was actually telling me very good advice and
I really wish I had listened and waited for the right time, place and
guy...not to mention until I was legal. Turns out he lied about
breaking up with his girlfriend for me, they had just had an argument
about him not getting what every hormonal teenage boy wants and came
to me for it instead, knowing I would believe anything he told me. He
spread it to his friends as to them it was a competition who could
sleep with the most people and for someone to be a girls first gained
extra points and typically this being juicy gossip it spread like
wildfire. Days later the rumours started from pregnancy to STI's I
heard it all. Then the girlfriend eventually heard and obviously told
her big brother, this is when the names-slut, whore, skank, slag and
the rest... any bad derogatory term you can think of, I was called it
by not only people from my own year group who were close with the
other involved parties but the year above and below too. Every day I
dreaded going in to school, knowing what was awaiting...at least
there were some people who truly knew me and still believed that I
was the innocent party in this whole drama, Morgan and the others
were always there with some snarky comeback to shut up the vultures.
I was eternally grateful to be in the "emo" group, they took no
crap from anyone and always protected their own.
Cameron was in a lot of my classes so avoiding him was impossible
he would give me a smug grin all the time as he knew this agitated
me. One day in a drama class he pushed me too far like a cornered
animal I lashed out and grabbed a chair close to me, although being
pretty intelligent and knowing if I hurt him I would be excluded and
tarnish my good record I threw the chair towards him aiming
carefully to his side knowing he would run anyway...my theory worked,
I released my anger, scared the crap out of him and to top it off the
teacher sent him out for aggravating me as this particular teacher
knew a lot about both my issues and the reputation of the idiot that
was on the receiving end of the flying chair.
School became unsafe for me to be out at breaks and lunch hours
because of threats. Having 3 separate year groups that loathed the
sight of me because of him and the girlfriend and her brother and of
course my naivety and stupidity. I received cyber-attacks as well as
verbal attacks daily. I was allowed to be in isolation, this was my
safe haven from the crowds, at least until someone leaked my location
for that day then they would find me to carry on verbally breaking
me. My self-harming got worse, my arms and thighs always raw and
scabby but always well hidden.
Other guys started to use me the same way he did, I started
receiving texts and inbox messages from other guys just general
conversation, compliments... them gaining my trust then asking me for
sexual acts, they were just wanting to use me like an object, to them
that's all I was... I was now broken, damaged goods. Every guy saw
me as an opportunity for easy sex. My self-respect and confidence
dissolved, I hid behind baggy jumpers with hoods, loose clothing and
dark colours... anything that would help me blend into the
background, I wanted to be invisible. Binge drinking and smoking with
the wrong people became my release.
I met Matt through my best friend Morgan's boyfriend, they set
us up on a blind date, it went well so after a few more double dates
we began dating, the same could not be said for Morgan and her
boyfriend they shorty broke up but she moved on to Luca, one of
Kristyn's boyfriends mates, she liked him when they first met so I
was happy for her, but I was still grateful for her short lived
relationship as they brought me and Matt together, he took my good
days and bad days with a pinch of salt he was so kind but we were
rocky and frequently broke up then got back together, typical teen
relationship. During another low spot during the hell of my very own
WW3 in school and not knowing who was truly a friend and who was just
using me and being on a break with Matt, I stupidly slept with my
best friends latest ex Luca because he wanted revenge on her cheating
on him and I was stupid enough to go along with it as we had had
another of our huge arguments where she revealed even she believed
the rumours about me and that Matt could do better than me. I wanted
to hurt her and hurt Matt because he let me leave him again knowing I
was unstable and I was convinced he was cheating on my anyway, this
was such a stupid childish decision. Once again Luca told his
friends, one of his friends told his girlfriend Kristyn who was also
part of the close knit friendship group me and Morgan were in, who
told her... I was ashamed at what I had done but also angry at the
world for tarnishing me a whore... but if that's what they wanted
me to be then I didn't see why I shouldn't. I began to lose not
only friends but self-respect and any feelings and emotion, I closed
myself off from the world put up my walls and always on guard... I
was exiled from the friendship group ... I was left alone and broken
with another group hating the sight of me but for a completely
different reason. After a while Morgan and I spoke about what
happened, I couldn't apologize more and also couldn't live any
longer without my sister, she was the only person I could talk to and
being unable to talk had not only affected e but her too. Although
the group accepted me back after a lot of debate, our friendship was
never the same, no one trusted anyone anymore but I had them
back...sort of.
It was a Monday night, I got home from dance after another day of
abuse and hell in school then feeling like the odd fat girl at dance
I went to my room. I was on skype to Matt as he was trying to get
through to me make me understand he was there....he saw the pills
during the video conversation, I brushed it off as I had taken some
painkillers for a headache, the conversation ended in me crying and
hanging up on him. I took the concoction of medication I stole from
my parents drug stash as well as my own and washed them down with a
mix of vodka, wine and Ribena I blacked out... next thing I know my
mum was shaking me and my dad threw me in the back of the car...
after I had hung up on him and didn't pick up my phone after 3
attempts of calling Matt had rang my house phone as he knew what I
had done...I hated him at the time but I now realise he saved me
They made me eat something I chose a mini roll...I later regretted
this decision
I threw up the mini roll and most of the medication when they took
my bloods
I was forced to stay overnight in hospital for observation, my mum
stayed by my side in a hospital boot as she had a broken ankle, again
I had broken her heart ad I hated myself for it.
They lost my bloods so had to wake me up to take more during the
night... I cried again, feeling so low and still groggy from all the
drugs and alcohol.
The psychiatrist from CAHMS came to see me she made me go through
the event of the night before and what made me do it, after speaking
to me she spoke to my mother, they wouldn't let me leave until she
promised to tell me what she had told them in one of the meetings
when I was being assessed for CAHMS counselling, they wanted her to
tell me what she had protected me from and had been hiding for 16
years.
I got released my parents took me to KFC, it may have just been
greasy southern fried chicken and soggy chips but to me it was the
best thing I had ever tasted.
CAHMS set up a controlled meeting where mum could tell me what
they knew and thought I needed to know also the terms she had to
agree to so they would release me from the hospital. The first being
the tale of a bad man who had done bad things, they feel I may have
witnessed something as an infant causing my memory to manifest it as
the shadow man that taunted me every night for many years always
leaving a feeling of dread and anger.
Second and most important... I was a twin...this was a shock but I
other ways also made so much sense. It explained why I always had a
memory of my imaginary friend Ebony, she was my identical friend who
as I grew and changed she changed with me until the age where it's
not right to have imaginary friends anymore and I forced her to
leave... that's when she would appear in my dreams which then
progressed into nightmares as I grew older the nightmares would get
worse, more frequent and more violent but always ended in Ebony
trying to take over my body and replace me. Discussing these dreams
with the therapist really helped they slowly started to disappear,
Ebony became once again a nice addition to pleasant dreams. After
leaving secondary school and somehow through all the drama passing my
GCSE's al with good high grades my friendship with Morgan and the
girls truly crumbled. Over the holiday I would see them post they had
been here and there doing this and that but never replying to my
messages. When I returned home from a family holiday in Spain I
discovered they had all blocked and removed me, once again I felt
alone.
I started to try make an effort with the counselling as I no
longer had the friendship support system I used to have, I took the
meds, I tried to open up more in my sessions, I stopped cutting
myself as much as I could instead scratching my arm or leg with my
nails. I tried to con everyone into thinking I was getting better, it
was working. I also got my little dog Molly, she is a Yorkie Terrier
and the funniest odd little thing, she instantly became my best
friend and was always there for cuddles and midnight walks, she was
my lifeline.
I have always been into the arts and was looking in to getting
enrolled into a local talent agent which was attached to a dance
school that also ran a full time theatre college I was asked to
audition and was offered a Scholarship to theatre college September
2013. This was the best news I had received I was beyond excited and
couldn't wait to start... turns out accepting that scholarship was
worst decision of my life so far.
The group I was with were so cruel, the need to be skinny pretty
and perfect at everything was obvious... I was none of the above. As
this was something I loved and wanted to work out for me I tried my
hardest in all lessons and aspects of the theatre college I was asked
to do. I was struggling in the dancing sessions, the teacher would
make a mockery of me and the other high flying students in the
classes would laugh or join in with the taunting frequently targeting
me and lunch breaks or in the changing areas, they even followed me
out into the street one day when it had all got too much and I had
called a ride. Whilst I was waiting, they rushed out after me stood
in their ballet gear shouting in my face and prodding me to get a
response. I just sat on the wall slumped over in my ballet uniform
and baggy jumper with the hood pulled far down my face hiding my
tears, hoping any second the car would appear round the corner and I
could get away. Self-harming started again it seemed like the only
thing I could control and I was in control of, it gave me a physical
reason for the pain I was feeling inside. It had reached the point
where I was getting bullied daily by a lot of my year group and some
other close friends from the other years, whether it be my
appearance, lack of socialisation with the group or work in lessons,
there was always something. I despised the sight of myself,
especially in my ballet uniform which consisted of pale pink tights
and a skimpy black leotard, nothing to hide the tops of my arms or my
thighs and the leotard clung to every roll on my stomach and back, I
dreaded those lessons in the fully mirrored room and would hope the
time would fly by which it never did although I hated everything
about this lesson there was one thing I did look forward to about it
and that was seeing miss Tatiana, the only teacher who was ever kind
to me in that dreadful place. And although I ate more during each day
as I was able to find places quiet enough to eat I still usually went
for the quick option of junk foods they were usually quick and easily
hidden, there was time to eat at home.
I had an accident in one of the lessons which buggered my knee
although being forced to go from leaping in the air to landing on our
knees with no kneepads there is no surprise it happened and of course
to me, I seemed to be the bad luck magnet.
I left in January 2014 my dad escorted me to empty my locker he
was my bodyguard my mum dealt with the teacher who verbally
humiliated me... he disappeared in the dance world but not before he
alongside a few other tutors, the principle and the students had
crushed any ounce of self-confidence I had. My depression hit rock
bottom again. I would hide away but was always comforted by my
trusted companion my little Molly, she was always by my side and
became what I relied on.
Searching for something else to do, I started working at a
children's theme park, I was happy to be earning money even if it
want the greatest job in the world or the kindest boss. Being treated
like dirt by the boss became normality he did it to everyone apart
from a select few like in any workplace there are the ones who are
treated differently, that's how I met Dean, he was older, sporty
and a little awkward but who was I to judge he made me feel like a
princess and I just wanted to be wanted. Everything was great, I met
his family, he met mine and I felt I could trust him. I was happy.
But he began to show his true colours, the guy I met who was charming
and kind was not the guy I was with now. He had become very obsessive
and hated me being with anyone but my parents or himself. I should
have known something wasn't right when Molly used to act up when he
was around, she wouldn't let him near me and would try wriggle her
way in between us, I thought she was just jealous but she must have
known. He started locking her out of the room when he was around,
hearing her squealing to try get into me hurt but I didn't want to
upset him either just for a dog.
He would check my messages and constantly look through my phone
for evidence of me talking to other people. He would get so angry
when I was with him and answered a message or call from another guy
even when I explained it was just my friend. One night after a heated
conversation I got up to leave and he grabbed my wrist I got scared.
A few days later he came over to make things right, we met at my
house before I went to college to talk, naturally I went to my room
as I was still getting stuff ready for college, we sat on my bed and
chatted, he laid down and pulled me with him saying he just wanted to
cuddle for a while, after protesting I needed to get my thing ready
and that I was still annoyed I gave in as I knew I needed to keep him
happy, he was my only way to college that day. I should have known
better, he tried to force me into having sex, I refused but that
didn't stop him from pinning me to my bed dry humping me and with
him being larger than me I couldn't push him off, I was disgusted
but held my rage as he was my ride to college once we were in the car
and a reasonable distance toward college I let loose, I yelled I
cried and he pulled up outside college I went to get out and he
grabbed me again forced a kiss and I pulled away once inside the
building I ran to my safe place, the disabled toilet that was never
used as there were no disabled females in the building, my friend saw
me run and followed where she found me hunched against the wall
crying she sat beside me and pulled me into her arms where we sat for
a good half hour once I had calmed down and explained what had
happened we compose a message saying I needed to talk to him that
evening... this was the final straw I was breaking up with him. He
came round that night full of apologies begging me to forgive and
give him another chance, this dragged on for nearly 2 hours I asked
him to leave numerous times and eventually my mother escorted him
out... it didn't stop the angry calls and texts or him coming over
daily in tears begging me to take him back, it was making me sick
with stress and lack of sleep. I moved up to my sisters for a week to
just escape until it calmed down as he did not know where she lived
and although I still got the constant calls he couldn't get to me.
Eventually he realised I wasn't coming back until he let off. I
finally came home once he agreed to let it go and move on...or so he
said. I returned back to college and work. He had bragged around work
that we had slept together, staff members approached e to ask if the
rumours were true I shot them down immediately, I was humiliated. He
made work life hell. All trust in men had gone again but at least I
still had my counselling, not that I told anyone about this just my
pillow when I cried myself to sleep every night or sat up staring at
the wall engulfed in my tornado of thoughts.
Age 18 usually one to celebrate...for me it meant CAHMS would no
longer see me as they only dealt with "children and families" but
in their professional opinion I was better and did not need referral
to anywhere else...I had become so good at hiding the real me that no
one truly knew what was going on in my head...at least I had my meds
and a few friends I could relax around but never really let my walls
down.
I was at my guy friend Dan's house as he wanted to celebrate my
birthday with me so we settled in his room and planned to watch films
and drink, he had a friend there, another guy I sort of knew as I had
met him on the college bus his name was Brent, he seemed nice so I
didn't mind.... My friend ended up falling to sleep cuddling my arm
so left me and this other guy watching the film, he got closer and
closer which was okay we were all trying to fit on a bed and my
sleeping friend and sprawled over half of it whilst death gripping my
arm but I was warm and always felt relaxed and calm with Dan, we had
all drank quite a bit I started to drift to sleep too ... that's
when Brent saw an opportunity, he got a bit touchy he started with
his arm on my waist it got lower, groping me as I squirmed, he was
kissing my neck then it happened his hands were inside my leggings I
wriggled with discomfort but being drunk, half asleep and only having
1 arm free I couldn't free myself he pulled my leggings off and
raped me, I just laid there praying for it to be over, praying for
Dan to wake up. No matter how hard I tried to wake him he was dead to
the world when I most needed him... after what seemed like hours but
was probably only minutes it was over, he went to the bathroom I
managed to free my arm from Dan's arms, quickly re-dressed myself
and crept out of the room downstairs as fast as I could out to the
rainy street... I ran until I reached the bus shelter at the end of
my street where I crumbled into a pile in the rain, I felt so
violated and felt it was all my fault, although it was summer it was
so cold that night and the rain felt like ice but I was numb inside
and out I staggered the rest of the way home in just leggings and an
oversized T-shirt and my shoes barely on my feet from rushing out the
door, quietly I let myself into my home and crept upstairs to the
shower. I wanted to burn my skin off I had the water so hot it hurt I
wanted to clean the memory away needless to say I didn't sleep that
night, but again Molly knew something was wrong and stayed with me
all night just nuzzling into my body and licking my hand. I no longer
trusted anyone especially men, I never told anyone about the abusive
relationship or the rape.
I drifted through day to day feeling nothing but a void it was
like all the emotions had been sucked out of my body all I felt was
emptiness, occasionally the void was replaced with slight sadness,
anger and most of all fear.
That same summer I got the worst news of my life, my guide leader
and dear friend who had helped me through so much over the years had
lost her battle, she had fought the cancer for years but to me she
was invincible, nothing could stop Rita, it couldn't be true.
She had always been there from first week long camp age 10 when
the scared shy little girl who was homesick and had stomach cramps
just needed a cuddle, to the most recent events where she was always
there to listen and no matter what you told her she would never
judge, just help you through whatever the situation may be.
Rita was my idol, I truly knew heartbreak the day I found out she
had passed away.
The heart breaking news came around the same time that, after
countless appointments, physio sessions and consultant appointments
it was decided we would try surgery on my knee from the 2013 accident
at the theatre college. The letter arrived with my confirmed date for
surgery Friday 26th June my surgery would take place, I
then received news that Rita's funeral would be on the 29th
June just 2 days apart.
Surgery day came around, going in as a day case was confident I
would be fine to say my goodbyes on Monday, I got into my horrid gown
and paper panties and walked with my mother to the surgery room door
where a kind nurse let me through settled me on a bed and wheeled me
through to be surrounded by men and women in medical uniforms
attaching various wires and machinery to my body, I admit I felt like
a young child again and wished nothing more than to be back on the
other side of the large metal door with my mum not lying waiting for
the unknown the nurse who stayed with me must have seen I was
distressed and she held my hand and stroked it, just like my mum
would have. The last thing I remember was listening to the kind nurse
say soothing reassuring things as I was breathing in the strange
smelling gases and slowly falling into a sleep like I have never
before experienced. The dream was a happy one filled with all my
beloved family and friends but most importantly Rita, I woke confused
and thirsty and was told the surgery went well, I returned to my room
and greeted by the friendly faces of my mum and aunt who was on duty
at the reception on my ward. My mum sat folding and assembling
origami flowers as I watched still in the clouds from the medications
nurses would pop in and out checking on my blood pressure and other
things as well as to watch and see what my mum was making. I was fine
up to the point where my mum had left to get a coffee and I needed to
pee, the nurse came brought the dreaded porta potty but before
allowing me to empty my bladder decided it was time to remove my
cannula which had been bugging me since I had woken from the
anaesthetic, but must have skipped the section in my medical notes
where it clearly stated I was a FAINTER as once she whipped out my
cannula and helped me over to the loo then left me to do my business,
5 minutes later I wake up on the floor with a sore face, 2 sore legs
and still needing to pee...yes I had fainted off the porta potty in
hospital and hit the floor, I was terrified I had messed my the very
sensitive knee that had just been operated on, once I was back with
the world they helped me back to the loo then to bed I was mortified
my mum helped me change out of the horrid gown into some pyjama's
she had packed for me and I fell to sleep. Once I woke up I realised
that I had a gash on my other leg and a big black eye beginning to
show. All the nurses certainly had a memorable story that day. I was
released that afternoon after the standard crutch lesson determined I
would be fine for Monday, as always my fur baby was waiting for me
and was very cautious around my bandages. The weekend to follow was
for resting, the consultant promised I could go to the funeral if I
rested over the weekend but all I could think was what if I had
caused some damage from falling off the stupid porta potty, Saturday
night was excruciating I was writhing in pain and worry, but after a
bandage change and some stronger pain relief I could finally rest,
all the while molly stayed by my side.
Monday 29th June 2015 came, the day of Rita's funeral
my final chance to say goodbye, I woke up took my pills and breakfast
and grabbed my crutches to go pee... I fainted of all days for me to
flake my body chose today, my mum refused to let me go to the funeral
in case it happened again as I'm no light weight and she wasn't
able to attend with me
I was distraught I called everyone but mum had beat me to it and
already told them if I called not to pick me up and I was not well
enough yet I hated her for it but I also understood she needed me to
be safe. Being as stubborn as usual I called a taxi and had just
enough money for both trips I was stood outside feeling and looking
like death when my neighbour saw me and came to sit by me and find
out what was going on after a flood of tears and cuddles she reasoned
with me and helped me back inside where I staggered to the sofa and
held molly as she licked away my tears. I cried for 2 days as I felt
I never got to properly say goodbye and get closure that this
wonderful lady was really gone.
My life continued on, days rolled by, months blurred into one as I
continued to conceal the tornado of self-hatred and fear in my head
and the void of emotion in my body, I truly felt like a zombie. My
eating habits had turned the tables, I was eating three meals a day
as well as smuggling extra food, sandwiches, crisps, chocolate...
whatever I could find up to my room, each night I would binge eat
until I hurt,, al the while the voices in my head telling me this was
the only way to stop the men from hurting me... no one finds a fat
girl desirable, the fatter I got the safer I would be. As you can
expect my weight ballooned and this did not at all help my mood, it
worsened. Years went by as I tumbled from job to job nothing ever
working out, my heart was just never in it, I wanted to curl up in my
duvet cocoon and hibernate until the void inside finally felt
something other than the void in my body and the constant pains from
my knees but knew this was not possible as everyone else thought I
was doing just fine. I had finally created the perfect character that
had replaced me in my day to day life, the painted smile and chatting
just a cover of the true me, always dreading socialisation and any
kind of event or gathering, whether it be family or friends, 2 people
or 200 the sheer thought would send the tornado of hatred in my head
spiralling out of control. There was one holiday I despised more than
any other... Christmas, I dreaded the month of December arriving and
the country filling with chaotic shopping, crowds and the mandatory
family gatherings full of festive cheer and happiness. I dreaded
these events as I had to again bring out the cheery character
everyone saw as me in even more crowded situations constantly worried
that someone would final see through the cracks or it would finally
all be too much and I would crash and burn and although I was
surrounded by family who loved me for whoever I may be and I loved
them, all I would feel is pure hatred as seeing them all happy and
full of cheer and emotions made me realise how I truly felt
nothingness, just a huge black void, loneliness. For me Christmas was
always the loneliest and saddest time of the year, then into the New
Year celebrations toasting to past achievements and new beginnings
when all I could do was let the tornado of thoughts spit cruel
memories and hateful words into the void that was me. At least I
always had a get out clause if I needed to escape, again Molly was
always aware of when I needed to get away and would instantly need to
go toilet so we would creep out and go for a walk or sit on the park.
After 2 years of hiding my secrets I finally
burst I let all the anger and fear out in a long talk with my mum who
held my hand through it all and Molly curled up by my side I finally
revealed the terrible things that had happened to me that id kept
bottled up for so long. The feeling of relief that came over me was
amazing like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders I
finally felt something other than a void. Amongst the tornado of
negativity... I felt a glimmer of hope. I realised that everything
happens for a reason and has all helped shape me into the person I am
today, I stopped binge eating and cut down my meal sizes rather than
letting thoughts cloud over my body listening to my body instead only
eating what I needed until I was just full and drinking more water,
the more healthier I started to feel and as the weight slowly dropped
the physical pains lessened. Also without my furry little miracle I
don't think I would have been here to tell my story, animals truly
do just ask for love and safety, in return the will love you. My name
is Esme Partridge and these were my unexpected incidents of life and
I pray they can help you see everyone has bad times, work through
them and you too will find hope.
The end... for now.
|