I was born. From the moment I was consciously aware, I was abused in every way a human could be. For the first 16 years of my life, I endured daily sexual abuse, physical abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse and neglect, extreme poverty (had to steal my own food and clothes from circa age 7), as well as drugs and racism being part of my day to day.
I was the only person of colour in the group of people I unfortunately share a genetic profile with, and boy, did they let me know it. On top of the abuse (I cannot divulge as it is currently a case with the Crown Court), the sister and brother from the woman who gave birth to me (Mum is a title given to those who actually do the job) and their kids would constantly erode my self worth.
Comments like “your skin looks like poo”, “you look like a golliwog”, “your hair looks like you stuck your finger in a plug socket”, “your hair is so ugly”, “you are so ugly because you’re black” (even though I’m 50% Caucasian – but that means jack to the world; you are black), “your nose is ugly”, “you’re obviously adopted – LOOK at you!”, “here’s the wog baby”, “here’s the ni***r baby” – were normal to me.
Then at 13 years old, I was groomed and abused by a pedophile for 3 years, which culminated in a life changing event that I will never recover from (I cannot divulge the details of this one either, as the case has still not been heard by the Crown Court. It’s coming up to 5 years now.).
When I turned 16 years old, I just turned to drugs. I had no idea that flashbacks, emotional flashbacks, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, night terrors, inability to form close bonds/relationships, inability to control my emotions, inability to sleep, exaggerated startle response, constant hypervigilance, and hyperarousal were abnormal. I just thought I was weak and everyone had the same issues. I thought anxiety and depression were just normal parts of human life.
Fast forward to 22 years old, and I began to properly break down. I spent 3 years in the darkest place imaginable. I tried and tried to get help from my old doctor and was told, “you’re just highly strung, try meditating” (yeah, no lie). I moved to a different doctor and got lucky. After being referred to a psychiatrist, I was diagnosed with complex PTSD, anxiety, and depression.
I went through 3 years of psychotherapy which did more harm than good, to be honest; I make NO apologies in stating that the National Health Service is an absolute disgrace and the lack of knowledge in this day and age is astounding! Then, I was allocated 2 community psychiatric nurses. To say they were inept would be putting it lightly. The sheer lack of knowledge about complex PTSD left me in such a bad place that I had to get rid of them. They even destroyed my therapy exit plan, so after 3 years of therapy, I was basically left to my own devices.
That was in 2022. After 2 years, I got my own help. I got in touch with Harvard and researched and researched on ways to just…be alive.
Last year, I tried to unalive myself 19 times. Not one mental health person has cared. I have been given nothing: no support, no therapy, no counseling, nothing. I decided enough was enough. Power is never given, it is taken, and I had to take it back.
I enrolled in a Physics degree [program] with the Open University last year. Even though the court cases were still not happening and were being cancelled every time they were booked in, I finished the year with an 87% pass which is a distinction!
In December of 2023, I began my ‘Regain the Goddess’ regime. I started working out, eating right, and taking my meds as prescribed instead of saving them up and taking them on the weekends to KO myself. The stress of the sexual abuse cases made me drop to 44kg (I am 160 cm tall!). I am now 50 kg.
I picked up my pen and started writing songs again and joined a musical theatre group. I have also been given the opportunity to learn how to be a music producer. Now, I am writing and producing my first album. I also got into modelling. The next step is doing some headshots and a few self tapes, and then, I am going to dip my toe into acting.
I won’t lie – I am not happy, smiley, or full of the joys of spring 24/7. I still have all my complex PTSD symptoms. I know I will never be able to get married because there isn’t a man who exists that could treat me with the delicate care I need. I know I won’t ever have kids, and according to Social Services, I am not ‘stable enough to foster children’. The depression is crushing and the triggers, just wow, they’re a trapdoor for your brain. Anxiety cripples me and I take Diazepam, Temazepam, muscle relaxers, and Amitriptyline every day, but you know what?
I am an honorable, noble person with integrity who knows and understand the concepts of loyalty and respect. I am kind, warm, empathetic, open, honest, loving, caring, and have a pretty decent brain. I won’t ever recover, but I refuse to be beaten. Quitters don’t win, and winners don’t quit. No matter what happens to you – you get to choose. You get to choose if it beats you or not. I know it feels stronger than you, but that is just its façade. You are stronger than anything and more powerful than you can possibly imagine.
Crowns are heavy, so just remember – your ability to carry that weight and burden and still be an amazing loving person, even after all your trauma, well, that is what makes you a true Queen.
Phoenix
England
Submitted 04/13/2024
This story is intended to convey a personal experience and should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional medical advice.
