I filled my days with creative pursuits, as testified by my diaries:
writing kiddie mysteries, oil painting, toy-making, a weather project and much
more. I reasoned I was running away from being me. I always wanted to be
someone else because I feared I would end up mentally ill and a negative role model.
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| Children's stories I wrote at the age of 11 to 14 |
I reasoned my troubled thoughts were typical of the human race. People have quirks, obsessions, secret worlds and fears. Don’t they? Had I been correct about this, I would never have written this blog or my book Mirror Image Shattered.
The Day My Life Started to Change
I am now living with my partner and three children. I am
working as a learning mentor and my future seemed set. I was content.
My life starts to change in August 2016 when I took two of my children to Colwyn Bay. (My partner had work commitments and my oldest son had work experience). It was a lovely day and the girls had badgered me into buying a couple of floats so they could have a drift in the sea.
My life starts to change in August 2016 when I took two of my children to Colwyn Bay. (My partner had work commitments and my oldest son had work experience). It was a lovely day and the girls had badgered me into buying a couple of floats so they could have a drift in the sea.
The following forms an abridged account taken from my book Mirror Image Shattered.
“I watched the
children drag their floats to the sea. I had instructed them not to go far but slowly, the figures kept
diminishing.
I grew uptight as the children continued to
float further out. Before long, I could no longer
make out their faces.
And that’s when it dawned on me.
Had an
undercurrent caught them and they could no longer paddle against it?
Suddenly, a vast blue divided them from the nearest bather.
A thunderous dread slammed into my chest and I felt
sick. I shot up but my legs wouldn’t budge. The sound of my voice unleashed
from my throat mutated my sick fear into a feral panic.
People on the beach looked my way, but I barely
noticed. My shouts became
a scream.
I launched myself at the sea. The entire section of
the beach had become spectators of a frantic mother dashing into the
waves.
As I ran, I started to have the eerie sensation
that another ‘me’ was running inside of me. My subconscious thought had been:
I’ve been here before. I’ve done this before."
Thankfully, the children weren't in any danger, but the drowning of 5 young men on East Sussex’s Camber Sands a week later would haunt me.
The following day, I allowed the children back on the floats, not wanting our holiday to end in this way. But during the remainder of that day, I had been visited by a mysterious and crushing depression. Yes, I had experienced a mother’s ultimate fear of losing her children, but there was something else bothering me – a separate force drip-feeding nausea into my stomach.
It had to do with my sense of my other self running inside of me, terrorised with the sun on my back. It was a feeling I had never experienced in my adult life before.
And that’s when the truth of my toddlerhood began to open up to me.
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