I’ve been meaning to write this blog for a while now … where do I start?

There’s so much I want to open up to you guys about because I’ve never really talked about it. If you ask any of my friends they will probably say I’m the happiest person they know always smiling, bubbly have a great positive outlook on life and I live it to the max which is true I do and I love my life.

What a lot of you don’t know is that my life changed the moment I watched my mother have a heart attack in front of me, I was 9years old at the time and saw my mum laying on the sofa foaming at the mouth convulsing which looked like something straight out of a horror movie, I just stood there frozen in shock not understanding what the hell was going on but at the same time having an awful sense that something horrendous was taking place.
Most of you already know that I grew up in foster care but it didn’t start from the age of nine when my mother died I was in and out of care from the moment I was born.
My mother was a severe alcoholic and I can’t even remember the number of times I was made to go to the off licence  for her with a written note saying exactly what kind of sherry or cider she wanted. Why was a 7 year old allowed to pick up alcohol for a person who was far too drunk already to move off the sofa and to go get it herself? I’ll never understand that.
Being in care was something I was always used to, If my mum was too drunk I would get sent to a care home, if she decided she was going to rehab for a couple of weeks me and my sister Abigail would go back into care and if she just decided she had enough and wanted a break again back into care we went, it was a vicious circle that never stopped. Unfortunately, I don’t remember a lot of my childhood as I’ve blocked so much out. I lost contact with my sister Abigail who actually brought me up the moment I arrived, I probably wouldn’t have survived without her however, my fragmented mind can only remember certain experiences that we had together, some were pretty horrific as our mother tortured us regularly as a means of fun, I won’t go into this now as I’m currently writing a book which I will bare all in.
Moving from family to family for a short amount of time was normal to me, almost like going on a mini holiday just with people you don’t know.
Now being a kid who went through quite a lot there were times where I was really happy and also times where I was really low, I’ve been homeless and slept on the street so many times I can’t actually remember the total. Searching for food in bins and outside restaurants was normal, waking up in a park in someone’s garden or alleyway was normal. once my mother drank herself to sleep and KO,d on a park bench, now it must’ve been really late at night as it was pitch black outside apart from the light I had from lampposts dotted around. I remember it was soooo cold I couldn’t sleep so I went to play in the park on the swings which was just a few feet away from my mum and if it wasn’t for that kind couple walking their Labrador puppy finding me, Christ knows what could’ve happened, anyway they called the police and we were taken to the station which was great because finally we had somewhere warm to sleep, within 24 hours I was put back into care.
It’s so sad because my mother was obviously struggling yet she wasn’t getting any help from anyone, You’d think that someone would have stepped In but no one did, she was literally screaming out for help but not her family or anyone else around her seem to care.
I used to hate baked beans because whenever my mum didn’t have enough money for dinner we had a tin between three of us! My sister remembers being made to throw up If she ate too much at the table, No wonder I developed anorexia as a child!
Family is the word that all through my teenage years I actually hated, I hated the fact that others were so lucky enough to have one and I hated the fact that I was so unlucky in life to not have one.
The reason why I am talking  about this now is that I’ve recently met a few kids in foster care who literally hate life and feel like they are doomed into having a future that is not worth living, which is not true, you cannot let your past or present situation affect your future, from the moment you realise this you will know nothing is unachievable, do you think I got where I am by accident? Nahhh all you’ve got to do is focus on what you do want and be ready to work damn hard to get there. I’ve worked six days a week pretty much from the moment I started work at 16 years old I’m a grafter and always will be and if you want to get anywhere in life you’ll be able to do it with this work ethic. You cannot change the past but the future is yours to make, that’s the beauty of it.
Now would be the right time to tell you what happened after my mother died, how I went into foster care and had the biggest shock of being moved yet again from an amazing foster family whom I loved, But for that you’ll have to wait for my next blog …. ( told ya there was so much to tell ya )