My Life Story
My mum and dad met each other where they worked at a cotton mill. Not long after I was born in 1976, then 2 years later my brother was born. When I was 3 years old and my brother was 1, my mum tried to kill us in setting the house on fire , my dad my brother and myself were asleep in the house. My mum got out of bed, sneaked downstairs, went outside closed the front door and put a lit rag through the letter box, then went and phoned the emergency services. My dad woke as he heard the sirens, went downstairs tried to open the door but the metal was so hot he couldn’t. The police eventually got in ran upstairs to see if me and my brother were ok, we were still asleep, the fire brigade told my dad that 1 minute later the house would have blown up as the gas meter was behind the front door. My mum was arrested at the top of the street in her nighty, she had depression due to the birth of my brother.
She went to prison and then released and she did the same again to an old gentlemans home. He wasn’t in. She phoned the emergency services again and got arrested and she was then sent back to prison for arson. Whilst in prison she set fire to the education department. From prison she volunteered herself to Broadmoor Hospital for 6 months. She remained there for 14 years. Whilst in Broadmoor she met and married my stepdad who was serving 25 years for murder. From the age of 10-14 me and my brother visited my mum in Broadmoor, a very very scary place for us.
So my dad brought us up, we did well at school, I attended every single day even when I was ill. Then in January 1990 my dad went for a routine eye check and the optician asked if he was a diabetic. My dad replied no so the optician referred him to the hospital where he was diagnosed with diabetes and for the next few months he was on lots of tablets. Then in May his legs started to swell with water retention so he went into hospital and when he came out 4 days later he looked the same. My dad used to sleep on the sofa as he couldn’t make it to his bed. This one night my dad said to me and my brother could go into town and treat ourselves, we watched Open all hours then went to bed. I woke up in the morning, went to go downstairs and heard my brother getting up, I jumped out at him and scared him then we went downstairs. Dad wasn’t there, we didn’t realise he was in bed so we had breakfast and it was getting to about 11.00am and I went upstairs to get my dad up. I shouted Dad and pushed him and realised that he had died. My brother came upstairs and said put a mirror in front of his mouth, dad was lay face down on the bed. I went downstairs phoned my Auntie and told her my dad had died. My Auntie her husband and my Uncle came to the house and took us outside. The ambulance came, we got taken to my Aunties house, when she came back she told us your dad has gone with the angels. I was 15 years old and my brother was 13. We went to live with our other Aunty & Uncle, they were in their 60’s and never had children. I was happy being a rebel and doing what I wanted & when I wanted. In the end she took me back to my dad’s sister and she contacted social services. I then went into a childrens home and my brother stayed at my Aunties.
I then started getting into trouble with the police, getting arrested at least 15 times a week. When I was 15 I was forced into prostitution by a female, I got addicted to the money I was making and carried on but for myself. I was still in the childrens homes being moved from one to another until I was 16 as no one could control me so I ended up in my own bedsit. By this time I ended up addicted to sniffing gas 12-24 tins a day for nearly 2 years. Then in started dating a drug dealer so I ended up on whizz for a few months. I then moved to Manchester for a few months, then to Rochdale where I moved into a hostel and met a guy. I also found out I was pregnant, I got a house, my brother and partner moved in. I ended up losing my daughter as I didn’t know I was with a peodophile and no one gave me the choice to leave with my daughter. I lost my house and moved into another hostel rife with drugs and drink. I had only been there a day and I was injecting heroin and before I knew it I had a habit and I started going back on the streets to work. I then met another guy that I started seeing but I was on heroin and I fell pregnant again. I gave birth to my son who was born on heroin and he got taken off me as soon as he was born. I was no longer with his dad and I got with another guy. I was with him for 11 years and it was a violent, beating me up in town centre dragging me miles by my hair punching me. Then in 2002 we both got done for street robbery. When I got out he had started drinking and the violence got worse. So in the end I left him and he went back into prison. Then in 2007 I fell pregnant again but it was an eptopic pregnancy and I had to have my tube removed and I got told I would only have a 25% chance of having any more children.
In 2009 I thought I had met the man of my dreams, he needed some sort of drug in his life but I had been clean for 8 years by this time. He continued to use heroin, crack, weed and alcohol and even though he was on drugs I coped. Then in 2011 I fell pregnant again, we fought the courts and I won to have my son at home. I had him for 3 months then I had a breakdown and social services took him. I carried on fighting for him even though I knew I was going to lose him. I lost him in 2016 when he was adopted and I lost control again and turned to heroin. I had been clean for about 15 years by this time and then it got worse when we started taking spice which we would spend £300 every 2 days between us. We had to take the heroin to get off the spice, then he went to prison and I got on methadone. Then I was getting done for conspiracy to murder 3 police officers and again I lost control and started back on the heroin. I then got clean again once the charges had been dropped. I then got charged with fraud and I had had enough, I left my flat after 11 years and went to live on the streets. Once more we ended back on spice where I nearly died but I continued to take it. We travelled to London staying on the streets for 8 weeks where we got clean but then came the violence when he punched me in the nose, split my lip, threw a glass at my head, pinned me down, hit me with an axe threatened to stab me and kill me. We then went to Bristol all this time with me thinking how to get away from him. We were only there a couple of hours and he went back on spice. We then went to Wales where he found where to get it straight away. He then got arrested and I stayed there for about a month on my own on the streets. I then phoned my brother and he told me to come to Blackpool. I phoned my mate (in Blackpool) who said come and stay at his so I came to Blackpool in Nov 2017. As soon as I got into Blackpool my mate picked me up and within 10 minutes I was having crack and heroin. After 2 weeks in Blackpool I found out I was pregnant so my sister in law helped me find somewhere to live. I was still using but I went to Horizon but the methadone was making me/baby overdose so I got clean on my own but every time my mate came over use now and again. I got arrested in Jan 2018 where I got an 8 month sentence. I left my partner when he got arrested, that was my chance to get away. While in prison I gave birth to my son who was taken away the next day. I am still fighting for him. I’ve now been clean for 6 months and I know I can do it (recovery) with the support of my friends peers and family as in a couple of months I will find out if my hard work has paid off and if he is coming back to me. If not this will be a very hard time as in the past I have always used however I want to change the habit of a lifetime and not use and instead ask for help.