The day my life went dark

I have mentioned this in various forms and places, but this is the most accurate and descriptive version I ever have and likely ever will write, and it is about the day I went into care (Which i wrote for a creative writing group).

Many years ago, when I was a small child, and still living with my Dad, and Nan, and at the time, I wasn’t aware that it would soon come to an end.

In January 2001 I believe (I cannot recall exactly it may have been 2000), on an overcast Friday afternoon (typical of the time of year), school has just ended, and I was exited for the weekend, although I loved school, and had some friends, I was still bullied. So, I was looking forward to not having to deal with the bullies, and just spend time with my family, especially my Dad.

I remember my Nan walking myself (and my little brother I think, my memory of the time is a little hazy on some details) home, which was at the top of a tall block of flats. The flat had a beautiful view over the City of Birmingham (or so I used to think at the time, especially on one occasion, where it was just me and Dad one New Year’s Eve, as I went back in there from my Aunts, next door, as it was dark and I wanted to watch the fireworks, so my Dad decided to join me, and this of all the memories of my Dad I have, is my favourite)

But I digress, as the day I am recounting is unfortunately not a happy one, far from it, it was honestly the worst day of my life.

So, when we finally got home from school, I remember my Dad in the kitchen and a pot of Chicken curry on the stove, which after a long day at school, and my love of curry, I was looking forward to eating it (although for some reason, my Dad does not remember this, but it isn’t something I’m likely to forget). However, just 10 minutes into being back in, having only just having my coat and shores off, I was being told to put them back on, as my Nan was telling me, and my younger brother and sister to put them on, as she shouted to Dad “Tony, I’m taking the kids for a walk” which I don’t remember hearing a reply to, and quickly after this we were shooed out the flat, and down the stairs.

The “walk” was a very short one, which taken us across a very busy main road (near the old Rover factory in Birmingham) to the Social Services building across the road (although I didn’t know what the building was, and barely noticed it before that day, but not it isn’t a place which I’m likely to forget).

Once we had reach the paved area outside of the Social services office, my Nan quickly walked ahead of us, looking back this was odd behaviour for her, and she did seem more anxious and stressed than usual, but at the time I did not pick up on it, at least not consciously.

When she got to the door of the building, (she told us to stay back a bit) she spoke into a strange shiny metal box, which I thought was curious, although now I know it is an intercom system, I didn’t know this at the time.

What she spoke into the is something that did not stick in my mind, so I can’t recount this. However, the next part I recall perfectly, and will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Once Nan spoke into the intercom, she walked past us, and quickly turned around and shouted to “Stay there, and don’t follow me” as she then turned around and walked back across the road, as she shouted again, “Don’t follow me”. It taken a few moments, after the shock of it before I just burst into tears, not knowing what was happening at the time, but I could tell it wasn’t right, it wasn’t normal, and I was confused, terrified, and deeply, deeply upset and hurt by what Nan had just did and said. Of course, I didn’t know all of this fully at the time, it’s taken a lot of time to figure out.

All that 7/8-year-old you me knew, was that nothing was right.

As I stood their crying, I remember that my brother and sister was just standing there, not sure what to do, but noticeably not in tears. But obviously not knowing what was occurring, and neither did I at the time, not really.

But now I do know, this is how my Nan, one of the people I love, trusted and cared about most in the world, broke my heart, and ability to ever fully trust, not even myself, abandoned us on the doorsteps of Social services, this. This moment, is where my childhood died.

So, we were left standing outside the social services building, next to a busy road, on a Friday afternoon, where anything could’ve happened before we were admitted into the building, which seemed like an eternity. But I think was about 10-15 minutes, to meet our fate.

Once we had been admitted into the building, the social workers lead us to a room at the back which the obviously had set up for Children, although at the time of entering the hallway outside the room, I looked in their as little as possible, as I chose to sit with my back against the wall, staring down the (at least to a young child in that state) the long hallway, which grew ever darker, and refusing to join my brother and sister, despite the efforts of the social workers, all the while I was still crying, and wanting one thing, and one thing only. And this was my Dad.

So, for at least a couple of hours I just sat there, alone, In the hallway, crying, until finally my Dad, came, for the first time since we were abandoned there, I felt some hope, a spark of happiness.

So, for about 15 mins (all the time social services would allow; again my Dad didn’t remember this either oddly, but I cannot forget this moment) my Dad was reassuring me, telling me everything was going to be ok, and that he would take care of, which I thought he would, and that we would be home soon. But then soon enough a social worker called Dad away, and I was again left watching the person I loved most out of all my family at the time, who I trusted the most, walk away, at the social and this one, cut an already wide open, deep and fresh wound, into an even wider and deeper fresher wound, which has never fully healed.

Watching my Nan walk away was one thing, but my Dad, that killed the spark of hope, the glimmer of happiness seeing him leave, as I somehow knew, despite my Dad, even when leaving, was saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it” I knew, I just knew he wouldn’t.

So, I was just left sitting there, the worst I’ve ever felt, broken, and felt all alone, as my whole world had fallen apart. So, as I watched Dad walk away my short reprieve from my tear flow, had ended, and they poured out again, for at least 20 mins after he left.

Then I noticed for the first time there, my brother and sister I the room next to where I was sitting. For the first while when there I noticed that they were laughing and playing. In that moment, not consciously (otherwise I would never have done it) to protect them and myself, I cut off the events from the emotions, and just ignored the emotions that came from that, for such a long time (until 2008 when my depression broke that wall down, in a period where my life had settled down for a bit, the depression hit, and upturned it, but that’s another story).

So that night, I pushed away the emotions I was too young, and too unable to cope with those emotions (and most of the main emotional difficulties since), I just pushed them aside, locked deep inside, until they burst out on their own.

But I did this, (pushed my emotions aside) I realised later, to first help myself be able to somewhat deal with what was in front of me. But more importantly, as I am the eldest of us all there, in my subconscious, I realised I needed to at least appear strong for them, and I couldn’t do that and have my emotions present. So that was replaced with a deep dullness, just so I could manage. To get by. Which worked to a point. But in hindsight wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but honestly, I’m not sure what could have been done differently, that would have allowed me to make it as far as I did with as minimal impact to day to day life to what I did. But it wasn’t easy, and was still a fight, but it was made easier by just dealing with the events.

Anyway, I was side tracked again. So, in this new state, I went to join my siblings, and at this point the social workers got dinner for us all (including them, and they actually ate with us, I think they knew that this wasn’t easy for us, and needed this, although they were also busy trying to find us a place to stay temporally). I remember that the food was Fish, Chips, and Curry Sauce, which is probably why, that although I can and will eat it, it isn’t exactly a dish I’m overly fond of now.

After this the social workers found us a place to stay, a place obviously set up for this type of situation, which has no warmth or character. But was a bed to sleep in. And that night I resigned myself to the fact that life wouldn’t be the same again, just little did I know, that at least for myself, that this was just the beginning of the long struggle that lay ahead, but of course I didn’t know how things would go, so after the traumatic events of that evening, I fell into a dreamless sleep, and so has every sleep been since.

And there ends the darkest moment of my life.

Hugs to all
Natalie Xxx