I'VE REALLY DONE IT THIS TIME...

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap...I've really messed things up now! My wedding is in two weeks, i don't have the largest income, and i still have to get Ben's suit, wedding rings, flowers, shoes, well the list goes on. So a few weeks ago i had a brainwave, why don't i get a credit card? So my application was accepted, i dutifully signed the credit agreement, leaving ben to look over the details. " ooo he said, the credit limit is £1500!" " nice" i thought to myself. Thats £200 rings, £150 suit, £50 my shoes, £100 flowers, etc.

And so smugly i await the arrival of my shiny new plastic friend to ease my arrival into marital bliss. Forteen days before the actual wedding day, i eagerly await the post. "oooo look how pretty my new card is. Wait, whats that on top of the letter, credit limit £100?" At this point i promptly begin to hyperventilate! Nooooo they have the decimal point in the wrong place, surely?? Sadly not as it turns out. What ben read was actually credit limit up to 1500! UP TO BEN, UP TO, AAAARRRGHH!!

Ok, so i've got myself into a mess....again! Lousy credit companies, if you read my earlier post on " Responsible lending my arse" you are probabaly tutting and thinking i should have learned my lesson by now. Unfortunatly, i did not! I can't beleive i'm actually going to admit the full extent of my stupidity right now, but hell, why not? I had a call from a company called cash finance direct, they told me they could get me a loan and all i had to do was call their premium no. ( £2.00 per min) and they would refund the full price of the call once i sent them my bill. They claimed they would guareentee me a loan. Weeks later, of course no loan, a phone bill for £200 and no sign of the refund cheque they promised me. This is not the first time they caught me out either, throghout the phonecall i had a niggling sense of de ja vous, about a year earlier they had done the same thing concerning a credit card i never received. I was so worried about the cost of the wedding i had forgotten untill i sat and thought about it afterwards. If this company ever contact you, avoid them like the plague they are!

I really can't beleive how stupid i've been, i am totally ashamed of myself folks, and have been left with a large hole to dig myself out of, i have a feeling this one may take some time. Lets hope i can salvage my wedding though?

RESPONIBLE LENDING MY A$%E!!

I think it's safe to say, my finances are pretty screwed at the moment. I am ashamed to say, i have been getting by using those internet payday loans. Last month i borrowed...*nervous cough*..£300. Not so bad, except that i had to pay back £440. ( i admit, the first loan i took out was only £80, and it has been steadily increasing) The problem with this is, by the time i paid this back, paid my bills, i have exactly 0 left. So this morning, i did exactly what i have been doing for..um..well, a while, and as soon as the text came through telling me my loan re-payment had gone through, i set out to borrow another £300. I figured this would pay the remainder of my bills, and allow me to like, eat and stuff. So there i am cockily waiting for the loan to be processed when, " Sorry, we are commited to responsible lending, we can not lend you this amount. However we can offer you £85. Would you like to accept this offer? AAAAAARRRGGHHHH!!! This won't even pay my phone and broadband! This has never happened before! How dare they!!Responsble lending my arse!! Responsible lending would be, not lulling me into a false sense of security for *mumble* months! Responsible lending would be, not leaving me in the shit like this! I mean, how responsible is that huh? HUH? Responsible lending would be, warning me last time i took out a loan. Something along the lines of: " Dear miss carter, please note, that borrowing £300 this month will leave you financially destitute!" If they had warned me that this was going to happen, i PROBABLY would not have borrowed that amount last time! I'm getting married in 5 weeks! *sob* At this rate Ben will have to get his suit from...*choking sob*....a charity shop!! I think i'm going to vomit.

Conspiracy theory?

Call me crazy ( and many have ) but I'm convinced that my housing association are using my mental health issues to drive me out of my house, in order to install a new tenant " more suited to the area". Confused? Yea me too, but bear with me.

Ok, ok, so maybe my conspiracy idea is a tad extreme, but my housing manager has honestly expressed that i may be happier in a different area. She's supposed to be on my side, but when i told her the neighbours give me evils she came out with that little gem. Surely a smile and " you'll soon settle in dear." Would have been better considering I'm becoming increasingly paranoid. Perhaps i should explain the reason behind the neighbours trepidation. The house i live in is supported housing, and the only housing association in the street ( the rest are all privately owned. ) I got the house because we were about to be made homeless, and because i have mental health issues ( don't judge me yet! ) we were housed here. The house hasn't exactly had the greatest tenant history, as the last woman who lived here put the house up for sale! After doing so, she then carted all her furniture onto the front lawn for an impromptu yard sale. Classic loony behaviour. The previous tenants weren't much better, hence the neighbours suspicion towards me.

Anyway, by now i bet you want to know exactly what my mental health issues are huh? The thing is i have ocd ( obsessive compulsive disorder ) It drives me even more crazy than i actually am. It centres around cleaning really, and having everything just so.I have like a daily routine that has to be done in a certain order. It wouldn't be so bad except when i sit down and look around all i see is dirt, and the germs, oh god the GERMS! You get the idea! So why exactly do i think they are using this to drive me out? A few weeks ago some water leaked under my kitchen floor tiles. I complained and asked for them to be fixed. ( now before you think i am truly nuts bear in mind they know full well about my ocd ) So they replace the several ruined tiles, and guess what? They are completely different tiles, they don't match! Not even close. Is that it ?? You're probably saying? To me this i the end of the world! I took great care of that kitchen floor. I scrub it by hand ( yes, on my hands and knees. ) And i polish it! Now every time i walk into my kitchen and see those horrible mismatched tiles, I gt this twitch in my eye that just will not go! And the big vein in the side of my head throbs like something the hulk would get. *sob*. They know what they are doing to me, and they just do not care! They say as long as the tiles have been replaced i will have to wait until they get new tiles in.

So now it's down to a battle of wills, them vs me! And I'm not moving dammit! I'll just have to avoid the kitchen won't i? Their tricks won't work on me-ha!

Random memory.

When we were in our teens, we spent most of our time hanging around the local bus stop. Drinking, smoking, swearing, and generally thinking we looked cool, while glowering at the neighbours. Thinking they were intimidated by us "hard nuts" ( where as in reality we were terrified they would call the cops on us, who would confiscate our cider :(
Today i found myself chuckling at a fond memory of these days!
So, in a bus stop, wearing our catalogue bought Levis we stood! One of the boys is kicking a piece of dried up dog crap that had gone white and crumbly. Lets call the boys Dai and Dean ( better not to use real names ) So Dai says " I always thought white dogs shit white and other dogs shit brown!" We stare, open mouthed and blinking in amazement. Alas he is serious, and Dean says " spotted dogs are fucked then aren't they Dai."

chapter 4

Charlie's eyes snapped open, consciousness flooding back as she felt Daniel shove his way inside her. "oh god, please, no more!" she prayed. He had taken her so often these last few days it felt as though he had pushed a red hot poker between her legs. Again and again he thrust into her, her naked flesh burning with the friction of the filthy mattress on her marred skin.
Before she had known it was him, she was able to lock herself away in her mind as he brutally possessed her body. Not now though, there was no escaping those hurt full eyes burning down into her. Brutally he would look down at her pain stricken face and use his hands to pinch her skin, like a spite full child. Grabbing at her breasts, twisting, biting her, leaving no expanse of skin unmarked. He pressed his face ever closer to hers, chuckling deep in his throat watching her thrash her head from side to side trying to escape the fat, warm drops of sweat that rolled off his face onto hers. All the while she screamed, cried, begged for respite as though being held in the very depths of hell itself.
A whole eternity had passed for charlie until he lay spent and panting on top of her. His head buried in her neck as she lay face tilted to the wall, as hot heavy tears left dirty tracks down her face. Her eyes flickered across the damp dusty cellar floor and fell at the foot of the rickety staircase, he had not locked the door at the top,she thought. Such a short distance to freedom, to Sam. A spark of hope began to flicker into life. The broken can she had hidden, dare she try and hurt him with it? Try and run? If only she could catch him off guard? Her body tensed as he began to stir he would kill her if she failed. But she decided right then that if death were her only escape, so be it! Quickly she slipped her hand under the mattress and felt for the cold metal. Her fingers brushed against it, she pulled her hand back quickly as he pushed himself up on his hands. She turned her face to his and his arrogance reassured her that her chance was now. She felt his flaccid penis slide out of her and he pushed himself back onto his knees, kneeling upright between her legs. Knowing she had seconds to act she felt as though her heart would explode through her chest, and as he turned his head to locate his clothes, she slipped her hand under the mattress. Gripping the jagged metal, with every ounce of strength she had left she brought her arm up in a wide arc, slashing at his 'precious' face. A red line began to spread across his cheek as the cut opened, and as he howled in rage, hand flying to his face. Charlie drew up her knees and kicked backwards with everything she had. Just managing to knock him back slightly, she threw herself onto her hands and knees, trying desperately to scrabble to her feet, flesh tearing on the concrete floor she had almost reached the bottom step when she felt a hand grab her ankle and yank her backwards. She tried to claw at him with her nails but they were cracked and broken. Writhing and bucking like a wild cat she tried desperately to shake loose his iron grip. Suddenly his face flashed into view and she saw the damage she had inflicted. A four inch long gash gaped open on his face. Without a moments hesitation she plunged her fingers inside the open wound. Fingers slippery with blood, probing, and tugging at the flap of skin, he bellowed in pain and anger releasing his hold on her momentarily. Hatred welled from deep within her and roaring with anger she slashed at him with the broken can still in her hand. The momentum was wrong or there wasn't enough force, because the jagged edge merely glanced off his skin. He lunged at her, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her to the ground. Sick with renewed fear she twisted her heads to find any exposed flesh and before he could wrestle it away from her she twisted round on her own hair and stuck the broken can into his scrotum and sawed back and forth as hard as she could. Something wet and warm trickled through her fingers as he screamed in agony. He released her as his hands flew to his groin, and she leapt to her feet and ran, the smell of blood and urine acrid in the air.

THEN & NOW. PART2

.....So i have shared with you a little part of a depraved life, the domestic violence part. This is where my real mistakes began and the real depravity begins.
After the attack in my own home, I broke down. I as a mother could not protect my own children. The next morning i got my parents to pick them up. Bruised and with a split lip, they took them with no question. Social services were quickly involved. The few days following, my house was empty, my life was empty. I had gone from having these beautifull babies that took up all my days and nights. If only I had known then that in a short time, I would be crying at their unused toys, breathing in their scent from the clothes that had been left behind. I was unable to see them untill the bruises were gone and social services were there. How had i gone from being this strong person, that had got rid of grant, to this weak being that called him to come get me! I had no one else, maybe he had been right all the time, and i couldn't live without him. I put a few belongings in a bin bag, and an hour later I was getting in his car. I knew that my dad would sell my house now anyway, I could'nt bear the ghosts in that house. So he took me to his new flat. We had room mates too. Mark and Tara. SO called mutual friends of his.
For the first few weeks i missed my babies so much, all i did was get up buy a litre of vodka, drink it and sleep as long as I could. Anything to block this out. I noticed there was a change in the three of them. At this point i was a stranger to the symptoms of heroin, and did not click as to what they were all doing. I was just gratefull he was leaving me alone. Finallly they cajoled,bullied and blackmailed me to come to the living room, and spend some time with them. To keep the peace I did. (I was still not allowed to visit the children.) Every morning they all looked ill and listless. Grant would go out of the flat, and come back an hour later. After a lot of whispering etc. On his return, suddenly they were on top of the world. One morning he got up, went straight to the drawer and pulled out a large lump of heroin ( actually 4 huge lumps he had sold his house and had 25grand to spend!) This was the first time i had seen it. Where i grew up heroin did bad things to people i knew. Curiously i watched him put a lump on a piece of foil and began smoking it. He told me ( and i don't blame him for this part, no one made me do anything, at this point.) this would kill my pain better than any vodka. So i did. And it helped.Every morning he would allow me some, I had no idea of his plan at this point.
Soon the depravity of the drug was evident. The flat we lived in was dirty, mouldy food everywhere, bare duvet cover ( hideously dirty ) All he wanted to do was get more drugs. We had to go to bristol. There were 5 of us in the car that night. Grant drove the car 90miles an hour, into the back of a stationary van. The man in the front was seriously hurt. Grant was in the middle of the road (unharmed), and i had hit the right hand corner of the windscreen with my head, which was full of glass. I also had a broken right arm. Grant however was only concerned we would not "score" that night.
The next day, I woke up feeling so ill i can't even describe it. He also was ill and here's where he admits to me his "plan".To punish me for what i had done to him, he had planned to get me addicted to heroin, then leave me to suffer. Although feeling the pain now himself, he kindly changed his mind.There is so much to tell you, but i don't think i can tell all. I'm not ready for that still. The things i've seen, the positions i was put in due to heroin. And thats before i left him again.
That night we went back to bristol. He took me to a crackhouse. Full of the people you would cross the road, to get away from. I am eternally thankfull he had money at this time, because here i was like a fish outta water ( knife in my bag ). When a powerfull figure among this world of depravity, walked in. He headed straight toward me, dripping in gold, and he eyes me up and down a few times. Without taking his eyes off me, he says "who's pretty woman is dis?" Grant sniffed, and with a nod of his head, he indicates, mine! The man says "wait here a moment." quickly he returned. Slammed god knows how much heroin ( the size of a brick ) and he says to grant,"I give you dis for her." I can honestly say that this was one of the most frightening moments of my life. Grant did'nt give a crap about me, am i going to be sold to do god knows what. Grant's silent consideration , was far too long. Finally he said no. And the man left.
Weeks later the violence began again. He had been taunting me in a room full of people, among them my so called friend's Tara and Mark. Then i said somthing that made him look stupid. And he attacked. I was on the floor being kicked, over and over. "My friend " Tara said; "Grant if you're going to kick her at least take you're steel toe cap boots off." Eventually that evening, I managed to throw some things in a bin bag, and with a broken arm and Tara's help, I escaped through the window.
For two weeks i slept rough in a city i was unfamiliar with. I never sold my body to get by, but i do not want to talk about it. There was a lot more between then and now., but i will tell you this, all this time later, my children and i are together again. Even better, as I quote my cpn; "i have broken the cycle. Only one percent of women that come from domestic violence, usually repeat the pattern, and go for abusive men." I have broken that pattern. I have an amazing fiancee who the children call daddy. He does nothing but support me, love me. We are getting married july 31st. I want any of you women out there who have lived or are living this life, there is hope. You have to want it and it's very hard work. Although dammit it can be done. emma

then and now.PART 1

I sit here today,with my beautifull children beside me.Morgan 9 and Elisha 7.I look at their beautifull faces,stare into their innocent eyes,and my eyes burn with tears as i listen to their sweet chattering little voices.
You see you would never tell,looking at this cozy little scene.(All of us giggling in our pj's cozy living room lamps glowing around us.Home.Where we are safe and warm.) That I have lived in the darkest depravity.A World no human being should ever experience.Although sadly so many do.I had my children by the time i was 21.They were 18months apart,and I loved them fiercley.We lived with their father.How many times I looked into that mans eyes and realize that this person was fully capable of cold blooded murder,and enjoying it.Drawing power from it.That was Grant.The father of my babies.I won't go into all the details as this is not another domestic abuse story.(although I need to explain some of it in order for you to understand.)When first pregnant he stamped on my belly.I told him i would go,that he would not have to be around,but then he still wanted to keep me.Grant was an alcoholic and i knew when he came home drunk,i was in trouble.For five years i kidded myself the children needed their daddy.At one point being admitted to a mental instatution,simply because he made me doubt my sanity.When the neighbours asked about my shouts and screams,he told them I was mental and he had to stay strong and care for the children.He would whisper in my ear "you're mental you know." Soon I didn't know any more.
Morgan was 18 months and i was about 6 months pregnant with Elisha when He gave me a taste of death.He had beat me many times.Laughing out loud after one punch in the temple,because apparrently my eyes rolled back in my head as i passed out.He had not seen that before,and it amused him.Anyway this one particular night (me heavily tired and pregnant.Him up on anphetamine.)We were disscussing our move.You see when i fell pregnant with Elisha (we lived 40 miles away from my family.) I beleived i would not be able to cope with two small children and no support.My father offered to buy us a 3bedroom house,all done out.He had a shack of a house where we lived.So we had (i thought) agreed to sell grant's house and he pay the mortgage of the new house to my dad.Eventually him then owning it.It was near midnight and i was desperate to sleep,knowing Morgan would wake at six.For hours now he had been trying to convince me to fiddle it somehow.In order he would not have to sell his house and fully commit to our little family.(i promise i am trying to shorten all this as much as possible!) He then asked if my father (the most honest and decent man i know.)To lie to the housing benefit and fiddle it.So tired by now i told him NO.And turned my back on him to try and sleep.The first thing i felt was a hard punch to my spine.I wailed in pain.Mistake. He thrives on seeing weakness,and now it was going to get bad.
As i am writing this i am reliving every moment,but i will cry no more tears for him or myself,only my babies.He rolled me on to my back and began pummelling me all over.You see he very rarely hit my face,that would leave evidence for the neighbours to see.Is what he said.Although this night he headbutted me and broke my nose,()for the first or 2nd time.I can't remember which anymore.) I don't remember a lot about it anymore,I think i must have blocked the worst bits out.Although I remember only too well when he began to stangle me untill i passed out.I remember him slapping me hard accross the face countless times to bring me back around.This continued untill 5am.I just remember looking up at him,waiting for the next blow,and seeing this look on his face?He had this blank expression and was staring between my legs.My nightie having bunched up."You're bleedind." He said.I didn't understand,I didn't get it all.Then I saw it.Patches of blood all over the bed where he had dragged and thrown me,but this blood was coming from between my legs.I was losing my baby!!!I was weak and could only cry.In his amphetamine psycosis he began running around.Woke up and picked up our daughter,while phoning an ambulance.That night had gone on forever,but the 20 minutes untill the ambulance came was longer than any time i have ever had to wait for anything.
Time passed. Elisha was born healthy a few months later.Once again I put it down to the drugs and alcohol.He even sold his house and moved with us! It lasted two weeks.He was 30 years old but couldn't handle being away from his home town. Like a child he also missed his mum.He was hardly ever there.He went back home during the week,and if we were lucky,he'd come and see us a few days on the weekend.He slept with prostitutes,my friends (in my house) but the very last straw was that i had asked him to get nappies from the shop.Fine! Then he insisted taking Morgan.I thought he was bonding with her,and the shop was just up the hill. 30mins later I put the baby in the other pram and marched up there worried about Morgan. There outside the shop with my poor little girl sitting patiently in her buggy,there he was knocking back six cans of stella! In CHARGE OF OUR DAUGHTER! Him being who he was,we already had social services involved.I can't go into all that too.What might have happened to her,him drunk like that.Still makes me want to vomit.
So that was finally it! It clicked my children were getting older,more in the know.I would not allow them near this.....supposed man! It wasn't hard to get him to go.He knew he could happily get back to mummy's and continue drinking guilt free. Soon came the threats the evil bile that would spout from his mouth.Using all my insecurities,death threats.etc.My family and I took out an injunction he could come no where near.
It was hard though. I still missed him,loved him,Morgan asked for him for a little while.Elisha didn't even know him.I had two small children on my own. he had told me how useless etc i was for so long! How was I to do This? I began drinking when the children were asleep. I was scared but felt like i needed him,was nothing without him.As he said no one else would put up with me,would I be alone forever? Could i look after these little girls? I was so selfish. I didn't even realize it then.They should've been my everything,but i turned to the bottle.Also when i got too much for him,as he said;he would spike my tea with benzodiazapines.Which i later discovered from my doctor.After not having them for a week i became very ill,after many doctors tests,they found nitrazopam in my system.A drug you can die coming off. The physical violence was nothing compared to the mental torture,and now this? "to control me!" you see me out cold meant he could drink and i would never even know. So I sat in my chair one night,the children asleep in bed,and strangley no threats from him?
I was in my nightdress,I heard a smash from my back door.Just as I rose in terror,I saw.A stranger in a motorcycle helmet hac smashed through the bottom panel of my kitchen door.His unfamiliar shape just stood there in front of me for a moment.I did what i could and cowered on the floor,trying to protect my head. when he was satisfied and he saw my swollen,bloody face,he left just as he had come.I couldn't beleive grant would do this,with his children asleep upstairs.(I knew it wasn't grant,but as he could'nt get near he found someone who could. someone to dole out the punishment he felt i deserved.He laughed when i asked him. That sound will never leave me.If I'd have died that night HIS CHILDREN,would have found me dead.It never even crossed his mind. Thats more soul bearing than i can bear right now but there's so much more...........