Hey, it’s me, Batman! Wait! Sorry, I really need to stop giving out those secrets. I could get in big trouble! Anyway, hope you’re all well. This blog won’t be about my depression. Well, I might mention it a little. But the main focus of this blog will be me talking about my childhood and what caused Social Services to take me into foster care. It’s no secret that I am adopted, but people have never heard the reason. I think now is a good time to speak out about it.
(I will be using a different name for my counsellor in case she does not want her name to be known. Will also be using different names for my birth parents)
Why I’m writing this blog:
During my counselling sessions “Lucy” asked me many questions about my adoptive family which I answered honestly. I spoke a lot about them. But one day she said to me, “I want you to tell me about your birth family, if that is ok?”
I was surprised and I had no idea what to say. So I just went on to say everything I heard from my parents and my sister, who had heard things from her parents that I did not know. We chatted about them for a few sessions. Whenever she would ask me questions about my childhood with my adoptive parents, I could never answer because I have no memories of when I was a child. It was like I was hitting a brick wall. “Lucy” told me that it seemed that my mind had locked the memories away. When I finished counselling I kept thinking about what I had been told. That is why I decided to write this blog. I also chatted about my other brother. My mum adopted him from another family and I love him lots. I love both my brothers.
What happened for me to be taken away:
When I was born, Daniel already had two boys from a previous relationship (my half brothers). I have never met them. I don’t know much about them. The only thing I know is one of my brothers has brain damage because Daniel and his ex partner beat him up because he would not stop crying. I wish I could meet them both but I doubt it will ever happen. My Mum said it would be hard to track them down and they probably don’t know I exist. After my Dad met Fiona they had my brother. I think at this time they were already known to Social Services. They were not living in a house at this time. I think they were living in a tent. Social Services told them they had to get a house or they would take my brother into care.
This pushed them into getting a house and they settled down. I don’t know what happened with my brother and why he was removed from their “care, but he was and my Mum and Dad adopted him. I forget what month this was. I was born on 8th April1991and my adoptive Mum and Dad knew I existed. But Social Services decided to give Daniel and Fiona the chance to keep me. Fiona was taken to a mother and baby unit. I think people hoped that this would teach her how to love me. I already know my Dad did not love me. In all those photos I have of them, he never once held me. My Mum said he never held me at all. In one photo i’m stood In front of him and he is staring at me like I’m an alien he has never seen before. But then the next photo shows him holding this fish he caught and other animals he had. It was like he loved the animals more than he loved his own daughter. This still hurts a bit. Even though I don’t remember him, I lived with them until I was 16 months old, so I would’ve been sad at the lack of love.
What kind of abuse did I suffer from?
Fiona and Daniel had no idea how to care for a baby. Even the mother and baby unit could not help. When I was 2 weeks old I was being given hot dog sausages and other foods I would not be able to eat. I guess some of you reading this have seen the adverts and TV programmes about babies in China who are left In their cots to cry for days on end without love or affection. Sadly that was what it was like for me. (My Mum told me all this and it made me sad. Not for me, but for other babies that are going through that now)
Ever since I can remember I hated shouting and violence of any kind. It scared me and “Lucy” said that sometimes happens if people are exposed to violence and yelling from a young age. She also said my memories are probably locked away because my mind deemed that time in my life to be traumatic enough to hide the memories, and unfortunately it spread throughout my childhood, even when I was living with my Mum and Dad I have now. Sadly for me the memories of that time might be gone, but subconsciously I still remember and that is why shouting and violence scared me so much. I am better now and I don’t get as scared. But if my family are arguing it brings it back again and I have to hide in my room with music on.
As you can probably tell I was neglected badly. My parents hated Social Workers always coming to my house, so they would hold me up against the window and tell the social workers I was fine and doing ok. They always checked me over though to be safe and one day when my Social Worker came to see me, Daniel shot him with a harpoon gun. He obviously loved me in his own twisted way that involved attempted murder, but it didn’t involve hugs and the love I actually needed. This caused panic, of course, and though the Social Worker was ok, Daniel had made threats against his family. For my safety and his I was given a new Social Worker.
During all this no one seemed to notice how dangerously thin I was. The excuse Daniel and Fiona used was that I did not like eating food and no matter what, they could not get me to eat. This went on until November when I was so ill I had to be rushed to the hospital.
I was suffering from malnutrition. They tried me on solid food but every time I ate food I would throw up. This was alarming and the doctors thought I was going to die. A decision was made to try me on a drip to see if I would put weight on. They were suspicious already that something was not right. When the drip worked and I was getting healthier, the doctors realised it was not my body rejecting food that made me so poorly and malnourished, it was my parents who had not fed me the food I needed. By that time I had been so close to death the doctors had called the police to report Daniel and Fiona for murder. I was not released from the hospital until February and during that time my parents had visited twice. They said they did not like wasting money on the buses since they would have to get two. I suppose that is more proof how much they loved me…. I am just lucky I made it through and I was taken into care. Now I have a loving family who love me more than they can express. I love them just as much
How my mum found out I was up for adoption:
My Mum was shopping in Tesco with my brothers. A lady she worked with at the adoption agency started to talk about me. My Mum was surprised I was up for adoption and her friend said she should adopt me. When Mum got home she told my Dad and he said, “Yes, let’s do it. Let’s adopt her.” That is how I ended up being adopted and that is how my parents thought they were adopting a beautiful angel and instead they got me. A little terror with a crazy sense of humour and well, let’s just say I’m not as innocent as I look. My mind is a crazy, sometimes disturbing, place to be.
Thanks for reading
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Depression Does Not Define Me 