It's My Life.

I was thinking. Maybe I should write about myself, Like the selfish blighter I am. :)

Firstly, I'd like to start off by saying that I am female. And a very happy one at that. <-(Although, I have recently discovered that Indian food doesn't go well with my stomach, Ugh)

My name is Emily Joy Hattersley and I was born in Bradford, England into a beautiful house, with LOVELY windows. I was kept, due to the grace of my mother, even though she was convinced to do otherwise. (Nice thing to know huh?)

We had a nice house, a nice family, filled with warmth, love, and money. Lots of money. (As that's the "only thing that makes the world go round") I was a daddy's little girlie you see, and didn't really like to be touched as a child. I was content to do as I pleased, alone.

 When I was four, my mother got pregnant again (Whoopdie doo), and my father became ill. Very ill. It was in this time that I'd wake up to my mother screaming as he was rolling on the floor having a seizure. When I was almost 5, my little sister was born, and my poor mother, was left to cope with a new born baby, and a very ill husband, so I stayed in the "shadows" (If that's what you'd call it) Just, keeping to myself, on my own, enjoying the peace. It was in this time, I remember my mother getting angry with the dishwasher, and my father going into the kitchen, and pulling her out, into the lounge by her hair (nice image). I don't want you to think ill of him, He wasn't thinking straight. When I was almost 7, my father was taken into the hospital, as he was too ill to stay at home, due to fits, etc. My mother started an affair with our gardener. (ellipsis please!)

He wasn't exactly the nicest of men let me say. I was stopped from going out with my friends, so I could stay in my room and "study". He would sit with my almost every night, and study with me. I am grateful for this, as I am sure that without it, I would not have the intelligence I do today. But his methods of "teaching" were somewhat frowned upon in modern societies. My life from then on was filled with verbal abuse of "You're never going to get anywhere in life", "You're fat", "You're ugly!", "You've got the eyes of a hawk" Etc.
This somewhat implemented my everyday life. I got to see my father once a week.

8 days before my 9th birthday, my father died. We were alerted by telephone from one of his closest friends.
I remember my sister, my mother and I, Cuddling up on a 1 person sofa, crying. (Or should I say bawling, as that's the modern thing to do!)
I spent most of my grieving alone, and suppose, I have never really got over it... (As I have been told to do by many people).

My Nan died a few weeks later.

My mother broke up with her boyfriend, and he spent his time harassing us. He took a lot of our money away from us, and we moved into my late grandmothers house in Nottingham.

That was a load of fun. I was the outcast in school. I got into a lot of trouble for bullying people, and spent a lot of my time, crying in the school toilets. I was heavily bullied myself, but when I sought out help, It would never get sorted.
My mother went through a phase that we could call "rebound" (Poor thing). She needed someone to help her cope. I can't blame her for any of it. I probably would have done the same. (Two kids, harassment and bereavement to deal with?)
When she finally met a man. He was lovely. He helped her get rid of her old boyfriend's harassment, and generally made my mum happy.
He had a daughter and a son. His daughter was older than me, and because I had little experience making friends and communicating in the past, she bullied me...
We moved to Wales with this man, and he made my mum very happy. When I was 10, I went to a primary school, that really brought out my colours, and taught me how to interact with people. I copied the people I found had the most friends, and applied it into my own tactics. I still had very little confidence in myself, but the friends I made, helped me to be happy within myself. For the first time, I found peace. My mother's boyfriend's daughter made friends with me, (Probably because of my new-found hyperactive attitude) and we became closer and closer.
When I was 11, we moved house again, and I started at a different primary school. These people had the worst kind of bullying I had ever seen. I sought out to be the quiet one in this school. (Note my adapting skills). I was bought a dog. Molly. She was my reason, and my light. She was my darling. She was the one thing that I was able to give the attention that I never had. I loved her with all my heart. I moved to Comprehensive school, and I found myself, dithering between people to get attention. To gain the friends I never had. I tried my best to fit in. Year 7 wasn't a good year for me.  Year 8 was better, and Year 9 better still... Until the family problems set off.
My mother has a past history of sexual abuse, and tends to find things that people do, slightly differently to how you, or I may see them. She accused her boyfriend of touching his daughter, and she accused me of being lesbian. (Maybe could explain why I am bisexual now?) It all kicked off when my step sister was angry at being "told" she and i were "touching each other under the blankets", and she left. I was left alone again. My mother and I had a fight, in which I was bitten, and social services became involved. Even though I felt I hated my mother at the time, I don't blame her for anything. She had a lot on her plate. I ran away and lived out of a suitcase. I felt like I never belonged anywhere. Most places I went, I was allowed to bring my Molly, but when I was not, I was lost without her. I found school hard, falling asleep in school and not doing my homework. Constant arguments were going on between friends, and It was getting quite difficult to keep on a happy face.
Social services tried to patch things together between me and my mum, and while she was living in a hostel, I went to live with her (Recently made) ex boyfriend. It was then that, according to her, I was "Besotted" with him. (Considering he has two children that are older than me, you can guess the age difference. Ugh!)
My mother told me that we were moving house, and she put an advertisment in the paper for a home for Molly. I was devastated to agree to let her go, but I knew that it was the best place anyone could find for her.

A new house. A new life. A new start. It was. It really was. I was content.
So, Naturally, I started drinking. And smoking. And god knows what else.
 I let my past take over me, and shape the insecure, unstable, unhappy person I was.
School was not that easy. But It was copable (With enough days off. Tee Hee).
Year 11 started and that was it. I decided I was going to make a change.

 I am who I want to be now. I don't really know what it was inside me, but something has made me let go of the past. Like a bubble when it's been popped. I have found myself. Inner peace.
I hardly see my mother's exboyfriend, and never see his daughter, or son. I wouldn't see Molly, even if I could because I couldn't let go of her again. I appreciate life now, and everything that is given to me, is for a reason. Small things, like waking up, and making sure that the first thing you do in your day is smile, and when friend texting you in the morning, to see if you are on the "first train" really make you appreciate what you have. I am intellectual, and I AM going to get somewhere in life. I may not have the curves in the right places, but I am bloody happy to be here today!

I am 15 years old and I am happy.

Zumo De Mangooo!

That is all.