So going through my crappy life trying to make sense of it and chasing happiness is not working in fact all it is doing is pissin me off and making me feel I should not be looking back but forward. My situation at the moment is shit not so much as a snuggle perhaps my life was mean’t to be this way. People come and people go I am now 51 and it’s time I went not on to another chapter of this crappy life I will consign that to the bin and start a whole new one in some new place. So it’s decision time where to live.
I am getting quite excited I know it won’t be easy when is anything? but I have taken care of things my whole life I am sure I can now. I want to live somewhere quiet needs to be near transport to shops, doctors etc so here start the search for my new life. Bring it on!
Where will I end up I ain’t got a clue, I cannot stay here so it’s time to move on a brand new life….and I dare anyone to try and stop me, I am still strong, I am still me, got a lil lost a long the way but now I know, I am not to old I still feel young.
Still Living The High life…NOT!
So my social worker got me a crappy bedsit in Crewe and what a dive it was. The landlord was a big sweaty bloke that had a permanent leer on his face.
My glorious Crewe pad consisted of a bed and a wardrobe and as the door opened I knew I had arrived lol 🙂 The other residents were a mixture of the insane and the truly psychotic I was glad I had a key to my room the first thing I did was open the rickety window, think “Rising Damp” x 10 it was bad but I had to make the most of it. I bought a kettle and a baby belling as I was not about to use the kitchen as I feared it harboured bacteria unknown to man and I was pregnant. I used to go my aunt’s for a bath as the bathroom was right next to the landlords room and I didn’t trust him plus it was disgusting how did people live like this?? I was enjoying shopping for baby clothes and toy’s I had bags of gorgeous tiny clothes that I would take and hold to me, I loved feeling my mini me kick inside see and marvelled at how hard it was 🙂
Then joy of joys my adopted mother came over from Kuwait on a mission to talk me into an abortion with the social worker, they got short shrift so my adopted mother said ok I am coming back over here to live soon you can come and stay with me until you have the baby then you can have it adopted…. just like that? So id more or less be going out of the frying pan into the fire. I made the most of the time before she bought a place and moved back from Kuwait this was not going to be easy by no stretch of the imagination, and I was right. I never asked her to comeback she took it upon herself later I found out she wanted to come back anyway, as usual I was just a useful excuse.
So she got a house and we moved in, it was ok at first but the clashes started the plan now was I was going to have my baby adopted apparently. The neighbours of the house she had moved into were mad I think they were inter bred the daughter who was about 35 was in and out of the local psychiatric hospital but I liked her she used to come round for chats mainly with herself but she came round and drank tea and she was a welcome break from my adopted mother who was very tedious and playing the martyr. As my stomach grew so did the panic of having a baby on my own because even then there was a stigma toward unmarried women in the early eighties well in the middle class life my mother lived anyway. She said I had to make up a story if anyone asked to where the father was lol I was not going to do any such thing, she may of been bothered but I wasn’t. I prayed the baby would come early so I could go get a place of my own and finally one Saturday evening I felt the first pangs of labour ouchie’s so we got in the car for the hour drive to the hospital, where she sat eating Mars bars while I screamed the place down I had never felt pain like it and never have since hence I have just one child. At 18.40 the next day Sunday I gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby girl I was a bit concerned about the shape of her head but was reassured that was caused by giving birth and it would go back to normal in time. I was sat holding her and the social worker and another woman came in asked me to sign something and for the next hour or so tried prising my baby out of my arms, I was distraught my adopted mother was whispering it was for the best I nearly belted her. Eventually they got my baby and I was left crying into a teddy she had, had. I was discharged and went back with my mother. I couldn’t eat or stop crying for five days solid until it was decided I could have my baby back, I went with the social worker to pick her up from the foster parents she had been sent to and relief swept through me as I picked her up. I am deliberately leaving her name out of this as I don’t think it would be fair, but all the time my adopted mother kept saying your on your own now. I went into a mother a baby home to await a council house and my adopted mother never visited and yes I was struggling, but all I could here was her saying “Your on your own now” All the other women were older than me and were there with their children escaping abuse everyone had a story and everyone mucked in together, but I was finding it hard it felt like the adopted mother was determined to make it as hard as possible for me I felt I had nobody. Eventually a council house came up and off we went.
They were right I could not cope….
Well I am going to add this as this is when I spent my 16th birthday in the dole office what an eye opener lol. And when I moved from homeless night shelter to no star not for everyone B’n’B, I had a great time 🙂
Wow the dole office what can I say I had never experienced anything like it what a shocker it stank of piss, beer and cigarettes and full of people who looked like zombies sprawled everywhere and nobody except me seemed fazed about this although after the next few months passed I got numbed to the sight of it when I went to pick up my money. I also met another girl there and she told me about a B’n’B in Kings-Cross I could stay and so I moved into the Ferndale Hotel, hotel is a bit of a laugh but it was good and more important it was safe. Most of the B’n’B’s nearby were brothels and I often saw the police pick up a prostitute then drop her off later, I didn’t like the police and felt sorry for how they treated the women. As well as my trips to pick up my dole money and payment for the B’n’B I daily worked up the Caledonian Rd with the other girls from the Ferndale, making damn lampshades just the first of many soul destroying jobs I have done in my life but I had a laugh and it allowed me to have money in my pocket. I have always been satisfied as long as I had a roof over my head a bed of my own and a bit of money in my pocket I have never wanted to be rich those people just seem to have lots of problems.
This was a time when children were getting snatched off the street and one little boy who was staying at the hotel came running in one evening saying some men were trying to bundle his mate into a car, twenty skinheads ran out of that hotel with base ball bats and saved his mate and the rest is not for me to say 😉 Oh did I forget to mention this hotel was full of skinheads one being Ian Stewart of Skrewdriver who died in years to come in very suspect circumstances as the establishment didn’t like what he had to say.
Come Friday we would be up the Angel drinking purple nastys followed by a dirty kebab I liked feeling part of something as we all walked up the road there was a mad skin called Mick up the pub who for some reason ate glass? but what the hell lol 😉 Of a daytime of a weekend we would hang out around Leicester Square and Carnaby Street drinking cider among other things, it was just a fun time. I did have a close shave on Leicester Square but by the grace of god escaped that too. I am surprized I am still alive to tell you the truth and this is just the start lol. I am using this as a template so I am not putting in everything that happened as I don’t want somebody reading about my life and putting it out as a book of fiction. When I find out how I will write a publish my life leaving nothing out. I enjoyed going to different clubs and gigs, with Skrewdriver gigs we had to leaflet the day it was happening or the police would close it down, I know why now but I still thank Ian and everyone else at the Ferndale for letting me be there safe. We went to parties where we would all jump in a van and just turn up at these party’s it was a scene to behold I tell you some of the shit that went down at these party’s most of the time we left before the police turned up as incidents would happen. After one party I slept for a full 24 hours. The hotel owner had a monkey called Dolly what a bitch that monkey was I dreaded him letting it out as if you were eating something it would attack you, I even saw big skinheads pale when that got let out, she was nasty lol 🙂
I spent nearly two years at the Ferndale. One night I got back from the pub and could not stop throwing up, I put it down to beer but in fact I was pregnant, I was shocked I had been careful and I realised I could not stay at the Ferndale and carry on living the life I was while pregnant so it was time for bloody social services do something for me. My care order ran out at eighteen so I had a small window so I got the train back to Crewe and turned up at social services who had thought they had got rid of me lol 😉 I needed somewhere to live and until I was eighteen it was their duty to provide it and so they did much to their chagrin 🙂 At last they did something right 🙂
And So The Next Chapter Begins……
A Great Year for English Football. For me I am not sure?
1966 what a year hey, England won the world cup and I was born lol…
I will skip over this bit quickly as it was a shitty time, I was adopted at six weeks to a family who didn’t really want me either, I ended up in care for my own safety and ended up running away to London at 15 and we shall take it from there as from there I made all my decisions whether right or wrong so was responsible for the consequences except for the ones I had no control over.
It’s was pretty hard when I landed I London being 15 but I was quite wise as to what people were like and what they were capable of, should not of but did and it stood me in good stead. I bunked the train down from Crewe with a load of Arsenal supporters and ended up in Wood Green for the night with one of the chap’s I had made it clear nothing would happen I was very lucky and he was looking out for me. Come morning after breakfast he gave me five pounds and I headed into London looking for I had not got a clue but knowing the first thing to do was to find somewhere to stay. Being fifteen and running from social services I found out quickly to lie and say I was sixteen and that night and several after I spent in Centre Point night shelter which at the time was on Shaftsbury Avenue and provided food gifted by local eateries, a bed, shower and somewhere to wash and dry your clothes the only downside being was you had to leave at 7am but they gave you food vouchers and you could not get back in until 7.00 at night and that was on a come first basis and lots of youngsters got turned away. I soon learnt the shops that would swap the vouchers for cigarettes and the day centres you could go for something to eat and between there and Centre Point you met others homeless people who gave you tips, I survived quite nicely as long as I was at the front of the queue at Centre Point I was safe well safer than being on the streets, I never spent one night on the street but soon became very savvy to it and the people who were on it. A couple of times I was stopped by the police and arrested and the social workers would take me back and id run off again, I think they just gave upon me in the end when I turned sixteen and left me to it. I did have a few close shaves but managed to get myself out of them, I had a gun put in my mouth and several disgusting offers from men but all in all I think I did very well taking care of myself. There is a lot more I could add at this point but for now I will just generalise and fill in the details later. I would never advise a young girl to run away to London especially now its a very harsh place, nobody does something for nothing and nobody is nice without reason, I already knew that so I was one step a head. Thank god for Centre Point and New Horizons day centre also St Martins in the Fields church. Thinking on your feet becomes a way of life very quickly, sadly some youngsters are not capable of this and end up in desperate situations.
Now I could sign on or work…
This is going to be about me what I have done and not done the near misses the good times and bad. I am writing this for me but your welcome to tag along, I am 51 and its been one hell of a ride, but now I am tired, we all get tired just depends when I suppose 🙂
This song just about sums it up, many people don’t realise this and find out the hard way. I am not a nasty person so I don’t expect people to be nasty to me, why is that so hard for some to understand this is a question I have never been able to answer and I am still trying.
Funny how people think they can some how trample all over you and have no comeback and then are actually surprised and have the audacity to act the victim when they go too far. I don’t believe in giving warning that should not be necessary if someone treats me bad they know what they are doing and should learn how to behave around people we are not animals for heavens sake but some people must say leave that one debatable 🙂