Happy Easter, Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday?

In a parallel universe, 

I'm there.

And we are laughing.

Oh we're laughing.

On another planet,

At another time,

I'm in your life,

And your in mine.

We are a family,

And we say I love you,

With honesty and care.

And as I sit here and write this,

It hurts you are not there.

A vacant text message,

Sent on a distant Christmas Day,

I don't even want that,

I want the occasional -

   "Are you OK?"

I'd tell you I'm fine,

But it would be a lie,

And I don't do that anymore,

So I'll tell you why.

I held her hand yesterday,

And on her shoulder I had a little cry,

Because days like Easter, Christmas, birthdays,

Aren't meant to just pass by.

I cried my heart out,

Completely lost control,

I let my tears run down,

I showed her a sneak peak of my soul.

She tells me I'm part of her life now,

And I don't need my past,

But it's a shadow on a sunny day,

That leaves my life always somehow overcast.

I'm 27 on the 27th of May,

And you won't be there for what is a special day.

I'm released from my sentence,

Which means I'm almost free,

From the court room, from the old me,

From the dishonesty.

It'll be a new day,

Where I get the real second chance,

To step into the sunlight,

No more fear of the night.

I was yours when I was 4 years old,

You got me the best birthday cake there ever was,

It was a Forever Friends bear, 

I've never quite forgot,

It was as big as me,

With a smile that could reach the moon.

Why does it feel like our life together,

Ended really much too soon.

It feels like someone died,

And that I'm somehow supposed to mourn,

Because you live your days,

Like I haven't even been born.

I was a flicker of your imagination,

Of a daydream you once had,

I'm the perfect little daughter,

And your my oh so proud dad.

Your my mummy,

And you love me,

And I try every day to make you proud,

It seems I'm too late in second chances,

Or at least I've used up all I had.

I work hard every day to make life great,

For me, for her, 

To make up for the time I've wasted,

For the life I threw away.

I secretly labour in your memory too,

That I'll achieve greatness,

You'll be proud,

You'll be happy,

You'll be back in my life,

And I'll be free.

Keeping my foot in the door,

So it never closes,

Is growing more tiresome everyday.

I know I promised to keep it open,

But my hope is ebbing away.

It's occasionally replaced with anger,

As I sit and wonder why,

I put myself through this.

All you do is make me cry.

You never got to know me,

You didn't want to try,

I was baggage and I was broken,
It was easier to hide.

Yet this heart wanders,

Upon a broken land.

That one day we'll meet in the middle.

And you will take my hand.

Until then Christmas will haunt me,

As our traditions become mine,
I'll put positives over negatives,

And move on over time.

She makes me stronger,

I feel like I could take on the world,
And I will.

And when I rule it,

We'll see who says Happy Easter, Merry Christmas, How are you today?

And I'll text back or I won't

Be either way,

I'm OK.

15,000 kids and counting....?

I'm currently watching "15,000 kids and counting" on Channel 4, and I'm half horrified, half unsurprised by it.
I was always surprised by the adoption process my parents went through to get my brother and I.
A catalogue - quite literally of potential children, blonde, blue eyed, baggage, tick where appropriate and they did. They wanted a baby, or as close to that as they could get. Cue my brother, blonde, beautiful, baby, baggage free BUT with a somewhat fucked up sister in tow. Also cute, blonde, cheeky, pretty perfect additions to an affluent Cheshire couple looking to complete the picture.
My parents made allowances in their search for the perfect child, they ended up with what they wanted, and they ended up with... me.
As I said in a previous blog, it was an audition process. My parents saw a video of my brother and I, I danced around, showing off my artwork, I read a rather incredible chapter from the kittens who lost their mittens, whilst my brother rolled around in a social workers arms. The camera panned out and then cut back to filming jay struggling with a puzzle box, trying desperately to force a star shape into a square hole, it just wasn't happening for him but he gave it a bloody good go. There's a really funny scene where the social worker Sue puts jay in a baby swing outside and when we watched this video back a few years ago, it gave us the giggles. Jay is happily swaying back and forth, with Sue pushing him a little too vigerously and then there is this massive CROOOOW in the background and Sue and the woman holding the camera say "ooooh gosh, what a very big cock" well - of course she was talking about the cockrell that was crowing in the background, but when you are a silly teenager watching this video for the first time having found it in box when moving house, its the funniest thing you've ever seen.

I remember the day my parents came to see us for the first time. We were on a farm, with our foster carers, Jed and Lorraine, they were amazing. They gave me a birthday cake, the first one I ever remember and I got so excited I almost blew the candle out from giddiness. It was small, and round and had a fondant bear on it, it was magical. I'd never had one before.
We stayed on the farm with them, there were fields, a broken chair that spun round, a donkey and horse which we named Dusty and Frosty (by we, I mean me and the other foster kids) it was a bit like a farm for lost children and lost animals. These people had massive hearts, they loved us for what we were, and weren't afraid to tell the social workers.
My parents rolled up in a white mercedes and it was like some sort of princess' carriage, they were so cool. Smart, trendy, young, everything you'd dream of if you didn't have a mummy and daddy. My mum wore white pants and had beautiful blonde hair and I remember thinking, my hair looks like that! My dad was beautiful and kind and had strong arms and blue eyes. They were perfect. We spent time together on the farm, I sat on his knee in the posh car, and played with the electric sunroof, it opened and closed so often, the magic did not wear off. They brought us a pair of Nike trainers each. We hadn't had shoes that fit properly before, they were always two sizes too small. Jay and I have such weird toes, that when he had his car accident in South Africa, the nurses who looked after him while paralysed said to my mum "Oh gosh, did he damage his feet in the accident?" - we're not monsters or anything, nothing webbed, but you know, a little odd! But years of small shoes will do that to a pinky or two!

So anyway, white princess carriage, blonde beautiful lady, blue eyed muscular man, free shoes = amazeballs.
As my mum got in the car ready to leave, I grabbed her hand and said "So, do you want to be my mummy then?" - she cried (I know, who knew?!) said yes, and we went from there.
Next thing I knew we were in Jed and Lorraines pretty rotten 4 by 4 on our way to Lymm, the place of dreams. We pulled up to this mansion, practically, a beautiful victorian semi, I'd never seen anything like it. Princess car. Princess castle. We were so lucky. But I didn't want to stay. I got in quite the tantrum as I wanted to stay with Jed and Lorraine. Jay wasn't fussed, he was put to bed in the incredible top floor bedroom and when I think about it now, it was so heartfelt. These two people wanted us so much, they must have got so excited walking round a shop, picking out wallpaper and cots and everything parents do get excited for. It breaks my heart to know I felt so happy and so hopeful once and now they feel more like a memory of a lost child. It's better to remember them and to remember me like that, because that's what I wanted, a mummy and a daddy and thats what I got, even if I don't have it now.

Jed took me upstairs, and into the bedroom that they had painted and put together so beautifully, bunk beds - amazing. He tucked me up - in top bunk of course, after all, I was a big girl now. He pulled my duvet up over me for the last time and I said to him "Promise me you'll wake me up before you go," and he kissed me on the cheek and said "Course I will,"
I never saw him again.
I woke up the next day and had the best bowl of coco-pops of my life.
Happy.

I was a lucky little girl to have been adopted by my parents. Even more lucky to have been adopted with my brother. We were destined to be Fran and Jay. Always. And maybe one day we will be again.

I'm watching this stupid TV show on Channel 4 and it's filling me with a rage. Children listed on websites, in catalogues, in videos, its madness. We are not animals at the dogs home.
How can potential parents have check lists?

I didn't even know there was a box for "sexual abuse" on what parents are looking for and I can't help but think that my parents overlooked the fact that I was a messed up little girl with baggage a-plenty due to the fact that they wanted a baby.
There is a little girl on this program, shes 7 years old, and shes being written off, because parents looking for children don't want someone so old, because they consider them to be damaged. That breaks my heart.
I'm 26, and I can't wait to start a family with Sarah, if we can't have one for our own, I have no problem taking to our hearts a little girl or boy who wants a mummy, a home, love, care, a future.
Any little girl or boy.
The life I have lived and the things that I've felt, I could love 100 children and it wouldn't be enough!

Blast from the past

So.
I thought I would type up a few poems I wrote years ago.
They are a little intense, but I wrote them in my darkest hours, when my life started to unravel and I started to loose control.
I'm posting them on here, because despite their pain, they show me how far I've come and how, as a person, despite thinking the worst of myself for the things I have done and the decisions I have made - I can see the journey I've been on and take great comfort in the fact I have come out the other side of it.

I wrote these poems while I was at University, I almost threw my entire academic career away. I stayed in my room, in halls, I locked the door and I didn't come out. I didn't go to seminars, I didn't go to lectures, I didn't hand in essays, I didn't do anything. I hid.
Until finally, when I cracked, I gave in and went to see my academic advisor, I poured my heart out from start to finish only to look up and see her crying too. I don't think she had ever heard such a horror story.
Young girl, goes to Uni to make her parents proud, young girl gets raped by big black man, young girl happens to be a raging lesbian and so doesn't quite know how to react to such a thing, ignores the fact it ever happened, only to collapse, end up in hospital to find out shes pregnant with said monsters child. Honestly, I think I need to get writing that book!

I couldn't tell anyone. I was ashamed, I thought I was to blame, I had my abortion, which went tits up and I spent a few days in hospital evaluating what I was going to do. So I did what Barkers do. I got up, I got dressed, I went to Uni and carried on as normal. I did that for a very long time, but burying something so big wreaked havoc on my mental heath.
So I wrote this. A poem I thought I had lost. My father dropped off a box of my belongings a few months ago, a few of my childhood momento's, a box of memories, I loved it. Until I found a few bits of paper. Just a few, that my parents had kept and filled away.
I got so angry.
They must have read them and stashed them in this box without a second thought. How?

"My shirt is in pieces,
Blood is pouring out,
But I'm silent,
I don't scream or shout.

My jeans are torn,
Seam from seam,
My eyes are stinging,
As the tears stream.

My arms are bleeding,
As they scrape the floor,
My eyes are focused,
Upon the locked door.

My hands are bruised,
From fighting so hard,
The mirror is smashed,
I wish I could reach a shard.

Id bury it deep,
And watch the red rivers run,
I'd wait until,
My vengeance was done.

My head is banging,
From your strangling,
The room spins round and round,
As you pin me to the ground.

And all is silence,
I get up and I go.
This secret will remain mine,
No-one can ever know"

I know people deal with this sort of thing more often that we dare to think about.
My own partner almost fell foul of a similar situation in the middle of Manchester city centre, if I had not been there to fight the man off, he would have dragged her off and carried out his intention.
I know she struggles with it on a daily basis, she has a fear she doesn't talk about and it's a sad story that I can empathise with her and I can understand how she feels, and when I hold her I know she lost a piece of herself that day, just as I did years before. But we move forward together.

I have a friend, I love her dearly, she was hurt, destroyed, went to court, sent the bastard away for a long time and we are so proud of her for doing it. Her ghosts linger just the same, I offer to walk her home because I know the dark streets haunt her, and she's never quite sure.
You see, we all live with it, every single day, in a different way.
For me, I try to forget, but its hard. As a gay woman, to endure something like that and have the concequences of a pregnancy whilst trying to get through University, it almost killed me.
My parents found out about my abortion because I got sick, and they were so mad, so angry. I lied to them, I told them it was a drunken one night stand and I'd made a mistake because I didn't feel like they deserved to know the hurt in me. They never asked, they didn't care, they only found out about it through my court case when my barrister told the court, read out the doctors letter

This blog is my way of reaching out to people, I know, from the responses I have had so far, there are people out there struggling with similar issues. It's hard, I know that. Don't give up. These things that happen, hurt like hell, and they steal moments of our lives we can't get back, the only way to erase them, put them behind us, is to make bigger, better, happier moments. Don't waste your life on something you had no control over. The only real loss is if you let things like that steal moments from today, tomorrow, don't let it. Grab life by the proverbial balls and run with it. Positives will always win out. I choose my life. I choose my happiness. I know I can do it, and I know you can too <3

Snakes

Writing from anger,
Will only get you so far,
But its safer on a page,
Than a scar on an arm.

You were a danger
To yourself and to me
You are a snake,
It's easy to see.

Amoungst the fakery and the facade,
People will out you,
It's really not hard.

Pretending we're a part of it,
Pretending you care,
But dropping each one of us,
If the funding's not there.

You pull people in,
With your smiles and words,
How we fall for it,
Is quite obsurd.

Was I always this stupid?
Always so naive?
Because its easy in retrospect,
To see whats up your sleeve.

Money money money
Not a face or a name.
You won't remember mine,
It's all just a game.

Numbers not people,
You really don't care,
Your a danger and I'll show them,
There's nothing really there.

Recovery you told me,
Recovery we'd find,
But with you lot,
It's the blind leading the blind.

I've never known such chaos,
Such deceit and such lies,
I've never known people,
So easy to cut ties.

I thought you'd make me better,
I thought together we would try,
To build something on the wreckage,
But you just set it on fire.

I walked away,
I had no choice,
You would have had it all,
You would have taken every part of me,
Every part of my soul.

I told you things in confidence,
You shared them with the group,
You made me feel alone,
That was your real end goal,
It's sad to see, it's not just me,
That's just how low you stoop.

People come to you,
In dire times of need,
You suss them out,
You cut them out,
And then you watch them bleed.

They pour it out,
They scream and shout,
They share and care and leave.
Because all you do is sit and count,
The money in and out,
Lies to lies, deceive.

Hope is what we came for,
But it's what got destroyed.
Because you play with people,
Like they are only toys.

There is no trust,
There is no hope,
You entire existence is a joke.
I hope and pray,
That soon one day,
People will learn to see,
The only change that's needed now,
Is to walk out and be set free.

I trusted you,
I fooled myself,
I thought you'd got my back,
But as it turns out,
You weren't about,
And you never were really there.
But it's fine by me,
Because soon you'll see,
Just how little I care.

I walked away,
To build the day,
The day of something great.
I made myself,
I gave myself,
This chance to shine and shine,
I'll build it tall,
I'll build it strong,
I'll help, I'll love and care,
As long as I know that one day soon,
You won't be there.

I'll take you to pieces,
Like you tried to do to me,
I'll do it the right way,
For everyone to see.

You were a danger
To yourself and to me
You are a snake,
It's easy to see.

Sharing is caring

Well a very big thank you is in order.....!
I was dubious about writing this blog, a public space to be so candid.... taboo?
I always found personal blogs to be somewhat self indulgent and perhaps mine is, because as I said in my first post on here, it's easier to type than it is to talk, a blank canvas where you can air your demons and release them into the wild. Therapy!
Given the responses I got to yesterdays post, I'm so happy I did this. It is one thing for me to share with you the darkness, it is my priveledge to share the light, because that is this blogs true intention, to highlight how strong we are and that no matter what life throws at us, it all has to be taken as experience... good or bad, it makes us who we are... It's a sad story to read the facts of how I came to be, Francesca Barker, TheBarkerBaker, but I am not ashamed of who I am anymore. How could I be? I've only just figured it out.

When you loose yourself at such an early age, it's almost impossible to get a sense of who you are. It is hard to identify the good qualities you have and to move forward and forge a personality that people will love and adore and take to their hearts and so your left with the NEED to create such a personality, out of desperation, lonliness, fear of abadonment, whatever it may be.
I know all too well, I have created a hundred different versions of myself throughout my life, each adapted to different situations in oder to create the best impression at the time, its a sad sense of shallow that we feel the need to project such illusions for the sake of other people. But I have, I always always have, in the video my parents saw of my brother and I at our foster parents house, I put on a show, I was a little cockney runt, dancing around, showing the social workers my latest piece of artwork - which I have to say, as far as cotton wool sheep go, it was bloody good!
I sang, I read from a book, I showed off my cotton wool sheep, it was an audition and I've been doing it ever since. A new friendship - audition. A new relationship - audition. A new job - audition. What does this person want from me, what sort of character are they looking for? The funny one? The caring one? The rich one?
Oh I could do it all. Just like the little cockney child from south london could, the 20 something Fran did not learn her lesson.
Of course having realised this, and understood why I have behaved in such a way, it opened the door to NOT acting, not auditioning, its truly liberating.
Do many of us get to the point in our lives where we realise how OK it is to just be ourselves?
Hello Blogger, I am Francesca Barker, I am a 26 year old baker... and I'm on my way to happiness and I more than fine than that.

When I was a child, up until about the age of 10, I used to steal food out of the fridge and hide it under my bed and in my knicker drawer - not because I'm a greedy monkey, but because I had the constant underlying fear that my parents would go to work one day and not come back. That they would leave me and Jay in that house and we would have to fight for ourselves like we did in the beginning. I always wanted the safety net of knowing I had pinched a packet of hob knobs and a tin of tuna, just incase the worst happened and we were alone again, just me and him. I would always look after us. Its ironic that the way I acted years later broke both our hearts, but still, I'd put him first any day of the week, even now.

My mum used to shout at me and thought I was some sort of feral wild child for stashing food, either that or I was just a chubby little bigger who couldn't get enough biscuits in me! (I do love biscuits, ask Sarah)
Strange things like this crept into my every day life, hiding food in secret places, stealing my dads change out of his pockets and keeping it in my rocking horse ornament to make sure I always had a back up plan.
What a strange way to live. My parents gave me everything, private school, great holidays, beautiful things, but I always thought I would do something that would make them leave, make them give me back. We would argue, even our last argument, the same weapons came out, my mum would shout and tell me I was a disappointment and I would scream that she shouldn't feel so disappointed as I wasn't hers, and she would shout back that she was glad of the fact and that it was buy one get one free, my parents wanted a baby, but social servies wouldnt seperate me and Jay, so they got me for good measure.
To be fair, I am a disappointment to them, I was way too damaged for them to bear and to their massive massive mistake, they never thought to fix me, to talk to me. I had a dream when I was 8 years old about my birth father, not so much a dream more of a memory as I know now. I woke up, scared, confused, I told my mum about it; she stood in my bedroom doorway and looked at me with such emptiness and said quite plainly "if you want to talk about things like that, then you'll have to see someone about it, you know we don't discuss that in this house" - to which I said "but I want to talk about it with you"
She closed the bedroom door. Now, I'm sure I'm painting a picture of a bitch. I don't mean to, I have blamed my paretns for so many things and I do, still, harbour a resentment that if they had cared more about understanding me and talking to me than throwing money at me, things would be a lot better.
My brother was baggage free, no demons, no memories and more to the point, no horrors to recall. I on the other hand was burdened, greatly and I never let it go.
Until now.

The past can haunt you forever, if you let it. We all have to live and learn and understand that some demons just have to be released, to be freed, we don't have to take them to pieces, analyse and speculate.
We take them for what they are, and know that they paved the way to today.

Thats why the mantra for the business and for my life is so important, putting positives over negatives always helps you start the day with the right mind set. You can do anything you put your mind to.
It helps if you have love in your life, support from friends, its a great aid on the road to recovery, but in all reality, the only person who can bring about real change in your life is you.

If it hurts, learn from it, move on from it, and build something great in the space it once was.
Think twin towers, awful, painful, and will always be remembered with a tear in our eye, but build something great, filled with hope, and it becomes a new landmark, one that shows the world just how strong you are <3

The Big Bad Wolf

I search the internet for your name,

I don’t know why,

It causes pain,

But I have to know where you are,

To find you no matter just how far,

I have no shame,

Not any more,

I scream your name from every shore,

Because  exorcising you will make me pure.

I’ll be free, I’ll be sane,

I won’t have to think of you again.

Your dirty and your sick,

Only thinking with you dick,

Did you ever stop to think,

That you’d leave my heart so heavy,

That it’d sink?

Oh daddy, you’re so wrong,

You’ve been hiding for so long,

But I’ll find you,

I’ll call you out,

I’ll show you what I’m all about.

Bloodlines bind us,

But you didn’t care for that,

You had your way,

Threw me away,

And now the day draws near.

When I find you,

I’ll show you,

What its like to live in fear.

Words and shapes moved me,

They were stuck inside my head,

Sometimes I felt so lost,

I thought it better to be dead.

My heart was filled with sorrow,

As I dreaded each tomorrow,

But judgement day will come

And your freedom will be done.

Your conscience it will get you,

As I happily forget you,

You’ll just be a dirty old man,

With no little girl, and no little Fran,

Thank god for social services,

They ripped me from your grasp,

I hate them for giving you another chance,

They should have acted fast.

They knew they saw a monster,

And they let you walk free,

They let you creep closer,

And keep your hands on me.

I read it all on paper,

Like some sick story,

A sad book.

But as I grow older,

I don’t really give a fuck.

Because your just a memory,

From the life I had before,

I don’t have to feel this way,

And I won’t any more.

The truth it was destructive,

But in a way it set me free,

Gave me the answers I needed,

And let me be me.

Are you why I can’t give in?

Are you why I hide?

Are you why I don’t like letting people,

Get too close or inside?

You made me think like you do,

That being wrong is somehow right,

You made me watch the doorknob,

Every single night.

For that I can’t forgive you,

And not many would or will,

Because I’ve got your number Wayne Hall,

And I won’t give in.

Justice will be done,

So I don’t have to come undone.

I know my past,

It matters not,

I am lucky to have a second shot,

To take this knowledge,

Use it well,

Forget you now,

Forget you well,

I move forward,

I walk tall,

I bury you deep now,

I forget it all.

Demons can linger,

They can hang about,

But I’m done crying,

I won’t scream or shout.

Just writing this somehow frees me,

I’m sure it reads so sad,

About a man that was a monster,

Big and ugly and bad.

It is a sad story.

A story about my dad.

Pandora's box

This blog sounds like it is written, from a broken heart, revolving around issues that plague my day to day life... It was created to be a place of hope, whilst that might not always shine through, my life is filled with hope. This blog is filled with hope, and I hope that through the darkness, the light always does shine through.

I'm on a journey of self discovery, as cheesy as that sounds, I have spent a lot of time, taking apart pieces of my life and trying to put them back in the right order, at the right time, in the right place. It has been very much a case of opening Pandora's box, but therein lies the beauty of it. The very concept of Pandora's box seems most apt for what is taking place in my life, there have been absolute horrors and obstacles that would for most, demoralize and destroy hope, but it is only in digging through these and exorcising them, that I can get to the bottom of that box. Just as goes the story of Pandora "Only hope was left within her unbreakable house"

The first thing a probation officer ever said to me was "If I had lived a life like yours, I would either be dead, or would have a best selling book, so I guess you'll have to write a book" - it broke the ice to say the least; but it got me thinking.

I have overcome so many things in my life, and I'm still standing. I won't ever give up because I know just how good my life can be. I see beautiful things every single day, whether it be my fiance sleeping, the cat yawning, or someone doing something for someone else, how can you ever live a life without hope when there is so much to be grateful for?

It struck me again, I was waiting for my other half outside the supermarket in Fallowfield, the sun was shining, I was looking good, feeling good, and I felt contented. I stood outside deliberating what I should buy for dinner, and my mind wandered off into bread land where I considered new recipes and new ideas for the business and just as my imagination began to run wild, a homeless lady rocked up and sat outside the supermarket, wrapped up in a pretty shoddy looking sleeping began, and lo' the sun literally disappeared and it began to rain. Typical for her? Typical for me? The epitomy of my life at times, all sunshine and light, positivity and hope and then comes the rain to wash it all away!

I wandered into Sainsburys and bought a sandwich, a cup of tea and a bottle of water. I know its not much, but its what I had, and its what she needed. - No, what this woman needed was hope. How can you instill that in someone who is faced with nothingness every day? It just fills me with such passion for change, I spent the rest of the day rambling to Sarah about how I could make a real change, soup kitchen, clothes collection, food banks, getting more people into hostels and off the street. It's something that keeps me awake at night. I have battled demons like most people could only find in their nightmares, I've grown up with images and words trapped in my head that only made sense when I got to read child court case records about horrific sexual and domestic abuse I fell foul of as a little girl, I had to make my way through my University career being rudely interrupted by a graphic rape which left me with an STD and an unwanted pregnancy. I ran off to London, homeless, thrown into a world of awful things, which resulted in a drug addiction that almost ruined my life. I lost my family, my home, all the people I had grown up with, ripped away and left completely alone, with nothing and no-one. I lost hope. I hated everything and everyone around me and let my life fall apart and careered happily down the road to ruin with not a care in the world to where I would end up. Dead? Maybe. Prison? Probably. But I just didn't care.

I see these men and women on the streets and all I can think is, how did you get there? What happened to you? Did you loose your family? Did someone hurt you? Did you get pulled into an addiction that resulted in loosing everything? The biggest question that burns in my heart is : Why don't you do something?

I was born in London. I'm still drawn to it, because I know the part of me I've lost is in that city somewhere and the only way to find it is to go back and look for it. My mother, Bridie Kehoe, a convicted murderer, whore, drug addict and general disaster area. How did she end up like that? What was so awful that she threw her life away and didn't care to rescue it at any point? I think about her a lot. I fear the blood  that runs in my veins is too much of her and not enough of me. I have spent a lot of time hating that woman. The things I read, the things she did, the way she let horrible people pass her daughter around, because she was just as used and worthless, it makes me sick  to think about it, but then the anger and the hate are run out of my mind by pity, worry, regret. Could she have been saved? I'm 26, I've lived the life of 100 people and I'm still standing. 

Admittedly it took a court case to make me realise how far down the road of no hope I really was, but I did. I looked at my life, I looked at myself, and I didn't like it. I wanted more. I bloody well deserved more. What did I fight so hard for if I was willing to give it up so easily?????

I am having a love affair, with myself, with this person I'm uncovering, but its not all sweetness and light, there is a darkness in me that needs to be erased, one person can't live the life I have and avoid the anger and aftermath forever. To deal with the knowledge of all of these things is a hard thing to bear, add regret and remorse for the things that I have done and the choices I have made, well, sometimes its hard to get out of bed in the morning. But I do. Every single day. I do. 

What good would I be to squander this new life? This second chance?

I don't want to see other people slip away, and let the darkness win out to the light. There is always hope. There is always good. You have to work you bloody arse off to find it sometimes, but it is there.

I think this is where my passion for going into the prisons stems from, I know in prison somewhere, my birth mother is behind bars, and the things she has done, theyre heinous, totally unforgivable and a lot worse than most of you could begin to imagine, but shes a woman who lost of hope, there must be a way to find it again?

The same goes for all of those behind bars, on the streets, hidden away, I want to show people, there is always tomorrow, there is always today. It is never to late to make a change.

I'll bake, I'll cook, I'll teach, I'll talk, I'll listen, I'll put positives over negatives every day. 

I find peace in knowing that in becoming a better person, I can help other people do the same. 

Happy Mother's Day

I would have sent you flowers,

But they'd live, love and die like we did,

I would have said I love you,

I would have told the truth,
I would have said I miss you,

And that this still hurts like hell.

I miss you every day,

And I hate that I do,

I hate this burning pain,

Does that mean I hate you?

I read back the texts I sent you,

It's me saying sorry and please,

But its you that caused the car crash

Will I ever be free?

You have words that cut like knives,

And you never give me time,

To show you,

To love you,

To find a way to make it right,

You just throw things at me,

They come back to me in the dead of night.

You said I was damaged and that I was no good,

You said that you were better of without me,

So I ran as fast as I could.

You live your life without me,

Like I'm just an echo from before,

You live without your daughter,

Who's laid out on the floor.

I won't say sorry forever,

Because I wasn't always wrong,

I won't beg for you to love me,

This has gone of for too long.

So I didn't text you,

I didn't say I care,

I didn't send my love,

Because your just not there.

I battled with my phone,

It was in my hand all day long,

I had to remind myself,

To just leave it alone.

I work so hard every day,

To put right each wrong,

I work to make it better,

To show you you were wrong.

I can be great, I can be good,

But it will never be enough,

I can be yours, you can be mine, 

But there really is no love.

I'm a name on a piece of paper,

You signed so long ago,

I'm your daughter by law, 

But will forever be, nothing more.

You can close your eyes at night time,

And pretend I don't exist,

But I'll linger in your heart somewhere,

And one day you'll let me in.

I worry about you every day,

I hope that you are all okay,

I love you from this broken heart,

But I come first now with this new start,

The door won't close,

Not from my side,

It's your turn now, 

I've tried and tried.

Come get me when you find your heart,

Because if you don't we'll stay apart.

We'll grow old, we'll turn grey,

And then will come a fateful day,

Where time has passed,

We've lost eachother,

And all we have is hope of heaven.