Childhood struggles never leave. For me, growing up, life often felt like an uphill battle, with every new day, chapter bringing a fresh wave of challenges. Looking back, I realise just how much the weight of neglect, trauma and neglect has shaped who I am. My childhood, was the kind where survival, in every sense of the word, was the goal.

Childhood: A Test of Strength

From an early age, I was dealing with neglect. I felt like I was invisible, trying to understand what I didn't know I had. I was left to figure out a lot of things on my own, school, how to cope with what was wrong with me, with my emotions. I didn’t have the tools to know how to support myself mentally or emotionally. The trauma of being ignored, cut really deep and that got worse the older I got. Surrounded by people, I always felt on my own.

School: A Place of Struggles

School was trauma. I struggled to learn – I still do – I still fail to grasp words, sentences, situations. I still don't fit in. In school, there were always undertones, nothing said to me directly, but the silent judgments were there. I don't know what my teachers really thought – perhaps they thought I wasn’t trying hard enough – but they knew I struggled. I couldn’t focus, I couldn't learn. It is because it has taken 61 years to peace everything, that so much damage has been done to my confidence.

In school I was caught in a vicious cycle—struggling to keep up in class, feeling like I was always behind, and then facing the consequences of falling further. I was always swimming against the current, always exhausted. No matter how much I tried, I could never quite reach the surface.

The Loss of My Twin: The Most Painful Chapter

If I thought I knew what loneliness felt like before, losing my twin is overwhelming. No matter what our struggles were, losing my twin, still feels like losing a part of myself. I am left with a gaping hole.

In the aftermath of that loss, I am struggling to find meaning. I am walking through life dazed, mentally and emotionally disconnected – struggling to move forward. Some days I struggle to put one foot forward, to get dressed, the weight of the sadness, of her passing is still crushing.

A New Life, but Still Lonely

Eventually, life will move forward, it always does, doesn't it, but my twin's death is raw still. With my recent house move, nearer the countryside, I am trying to start over. I’m in a different place physically, but emotionally, the loneliness still lingers; it's hard – I'm working on finding peace in my mind and despite trying to build a new life, there’s always that part of me that feels distant, my experiences – hanging on. I’m on the outside looking in.

I am learning to cope, my writing helps. I am having to adapt, to find my own way to heal. But even with a new life, there’s a solitude that’s hard to shake. It’s not always peaceful. I need to accept for now, at this stage of my grief, this is where I'm at, that I need time. I've had a lifetime of trauma and I'm still dealing with trauma.

Looking Forward

But despite the struggles, I’m still here. I’m still trying to make sense of it – trying to find ways to feel better, to move forward. The trauma, the neglect, the loss—they’ve all left their indelible mark on me.

I know I am more than the things that have happened to me.There are days when everything feel heavy, but there are also days when I look around and I can see hope – when I know I’ve survived for a reason. I'm still writing, still thinking, still moving.

Just maybe, the most important part of my story is still being written.