A brief introduction

For the record, this was actually written on 01/06/2010. And it’s almost six in the morning. I’m currently writing this on an old laptop, on an old version of Microsoft word. The laptop is placed next to my bed and I keep picking it up and adding to this because my early morning thinking brain won’t leave me alone.

I don’t know when I’m really planning on putting this on the internet and showing myself bare to the world: but I know I am choosing my words very carefully and so far even this little bit has taken such a long time to write. I guess I’m writing it like a story. I don’t know why. Maybe that’s the easiest way for me to get my message across, though it’s proving not so easy after all…

Eventually I will provide extracts from my diaries and perhaps even my most personal poetry. Aren’t you privileged.
So I’ve lived a pretty average life in some respects. I have a biological father who I can’t remember, and I’ve grown up with a brother, a sister, a mum, and a dad. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried. I’ve loved, and I’ve lied… pretty cliché, really. I’ve had my heart broken, though I guess not only in the same way as most people my age. I have reasonable grades in school, college.. I’m even going to go to University one day so that I can become a nurse, and help other people.

They do say, though, that you can only help someone once you’re able to help yourself. And I completely agree.

I guess this is what I am writing this for; I want to give a real life perspective for people just like me, I want to show people what life can be like sometimes both positive and negative. I want people to know they’re not alone. But not only that: this is for myself, so I can clarify things in my own head and put things into perspective for myself. And so I can make my experiences known, so they're real and so I'm not hiding from them myself any more. Writing has always helped me to do that, it’s always been the easiest way for me to express my thoughts and feelings. I was never good at doing that vocally. I guess that adds to why the hardest day of my life as of yet was the day I had to sit my mother down and tell her what my father had done to me. I’ll never forget how she reacted; her cries of genuine pain, betrayal, confusion… probably every negative emotion there is out there. My mother never understood my battle with severe clinical depression until that very day.