At the end of the last blog I had flown away to Australia to continue my career in outdoor education, a year later I was back....well not quite, because I had arranged to stay with my parents when I first came back from Australia I had to meet up with them in Holland, reuniting with my parents was a bittersweet one, once again I was told that it wasn`t good enough that I was back and that I should still be out there (I had to come back as my visa ran out and no company could afford at the time to sponsor me)
When we finally got home I was informed by my father that he was going to start the process for claiming benefits in my name (which he would keep for himself) and that I was to agree with everything that he was writing or else, the fact that he lied on pretty much every part of the form and I felt that I had no way to disagree with him left me feeling trapped, after all this was the man who knew everything (despite being wrong half the time, which again I was not allowed to challenge him on) and did what he though was best for me, including scrutinising and nitpicking every one of my friends to the point that I felt I couldn`t even talk to them, I was becoming more and more trapped and isolated, the control over me was growing bigger until he started asking for my bank cards and PIN numbers, he didn`t like it when I said no and refused, I went to the bank for advice on this matter and they suggested that if he insisted that I give them to him and report them stolen, it didn`t though thankfully and I managed to keep hold of my cards,
Eventually the benefits people came back to us requesting an interview with myself and my parents, I was told not to speak to the interviewer or to only answer yes and no questions and to not jeopardise the process, so like a good little boy (I was 26 at the time!) I sat there and said nothing, a few weeks later a letter came through saying that the claim had been rejected and to essentially not try again, as you can imagine that went down like a lead balloon with my father, I was accused of saying something to the benefits office, of contacting them somehow, sending a letter, calling them, anything to put the blame on me for his fraudulent claim being found out.
His foul mood didn`t change at all for weeks, I had "denied him money" I started fearing for my safety and decided to move away but where and how? I was talking on the phone to my Gran explaining what was happening at home when she said that I could move in with her, I leapt at the chance and it just so happened that their was a outdoor education vacancy near where she lived, which would make the perfect excuse to go, I packed my stuff into my car and started the process of moving, I couldn`t take everything and had to leave most of it behind which by now has either been sold or destroyed (this was in 2009), I finally felt free of him.
The first year living with my Gran was great, I finally had freedom, although I didn`t use it that much because of the respect I had for her, in March of 2010 I started a new job at a sort of outdoor centre, as the summer came on and work picked up I decided to move my caravan across to save me from having to drive 50 miles everyday, this ended up being a mixed bag of good and bad, good in that I had a little bit of independence bad in that even though I was only a few minutes from where I worked, friends still didn`t visit me regularly and once again I became isolated and lonely.
In September of 2010 Gran had a stoke, thankfully I was home at the time and managed to get her to the hospital fairly quickly, the stroke still affects her to this day, the left side of her body is significantly weaker than her right, although that is also partly down to the fact that she won`t use the left side of her body in particular her left arm/hand and so it is slowly deteriorating , despite me constantly nagging her to use it when she can!
At this point my mother and my uncle stepped in, they told me I couldn`t stay in the house while gran was in hospital and that I had to go and live in the caravan, because of the shock of seeing Gran in a stroke I stupidly agreed, that winter was one of the coldest I`d known and I was regularly frozen into my caravan, no literally frozen in, moisture formed around the door and then froze in the cold temperatures, Gran spent until early December in hospital and had carers come to the house every day for a couple of months afterwards. After Christmas was out of the way a "family meeting" was called to discuss what was to happen with Gran, my Mother and Uncle were pushing for us to sell the house and put her in a home, the rest of the family, myself, Gran`s three sisters and (one) brother said no, the majority won and both my Uncle and Mother backed down but they insisted on having control of Gran`s finances, nobody had a problem with this, I was still working at the "outdoor centre" and went back there for intermittent work that I could get.
Things at the outdoor centre started getting beyond a joke for me, corners were being cut everywhere and the boss didn`t really seem to care as long as the money was coming in, along with myself there were several other qualified and experienced outdoor instructors at the site but our concerns about safety were constantly dismissed and all because the bosses husband had been in charge of an outdoor centre in the past, this was true but that centre was a water sports centre and this one was a high ropes centre, 2 completely disciplines when it came to safety, at one point the staff burned a harness that was so frayed and damaged that it was dangerous, yet before this the boss insisted on keeping it in rotation by cutting the frays off and hammering the buckles back into shape! with the constant undermining from both the management and most (but not all) of the staff I finally had enough and quit.
I left and came home, Gran seemed to be slowly getting better over time, every week my Mother would come across and give her a weekly "allowance" for shopping and such, although there never seemed to be anything in the cupboards or fridge, I found out that this was because Gran`s allowance was £30, my Mother was trying to exert control over my Gran for what reason I still don`t know, it took the threat of all the family to get my Mother to give up control of Gran`s bank card and even then she did begrudgingly.
I started caring for Gran full time from then on and once again became isolated from everyone, only Gran`s friends came to see her and if any family came across and spoke to me it was to criticise what I was doing "can`t you keep the house clean? can`t you find something proper to cook, why is the kitchen a mess? (this was after someone found 1 mug in the bowl) you should be spending two hours a day cleaning the house" I got (and still get) very little help or support from family, I was, to them at least, nothing but a servant for my Gran.
2012 came along and with it hip replacement for Gran, at last I had a few days off from looking after her, she would be in hospital for a week or so, at this point I had also found myself a part time job in the local town so I had a small income to supplement the money I was getting from the government for looking after Gran. Gran came home and for the first couple of weeks I was busier than ever looking after her as she was obviously week on her leg, I didn`t mind though each day she got stronger and more steady on her legs.
2012 also saw a new venture for me as I started my own business and as such was off trying to drum up business for myself, one of these days I went off to a local business fair full of other local businesses, when I came home I had a nasty shock, Gran was on the floor of the bathroom, she had slipped coming out of the shower and had broken her arm, after the trip to hospital for setting and plastering came the inevitable third degree from the family, "where were you?" "why didn`t you take care of her?" "why did she go for a shower?" "how long did it take to get to hospital?" the fact that Gran deciding to have a shower was nothing to do with me didn`t seem to enter their minds, it wouldn`t be the last time Gran slipped out of the shower either and more incidents would follow.
Between 2012 and 2014 Gran dislocated her artificial hip a total of 6 times resulting in stays at hospital for between a week and 24 hours and each time I got the third degree and the same questions as if I could prevent her from dislocating it. slowly the questions started turning towards my suitability and state of mind for looking after Gran and my Mother took great pleasure in trying to convince everyone that I was popping Gran`s hip out myself, fortunately no one believed her, but still no one asked how I was, no one asked if I needed help I was just left to cope on my own whilst fending off accusations of neglect, abuse and theft, the person I was neglecting most at the time was myself, the only thing being abused was caffeine and the only thing I was robbing was my sleep state, I was growing more and more unhappy with each day, I`d been here now for five years and things were slowly starting to get to me, 2014 would end up being the year from hell for me.
After the forth or fifth time of Gran dislocating her hip the question started being asked again, should we put her into a home and sell the house? the resolute answer was no but it would be one that persisted throughout the year. October 2014 was Gran`s 75th birthday and I was determined to do something memorable for her, so I took her for tea at the Ritz, no expense spared, 1st class train ticket there and back, taxi`s to and from the train stations, in the end the day cost me nearly £300 but it didn`t matter to me but still I got the third degree, "where did the money come from?" I`d saved it from my wages, "how did you afford first class train tickets?" I bought them three months in advance when they were £40 each, I couldn`t do something nice without being accused.
At this point I must backtrack a little bit to June as this puts the "year of hell" into a more appropriate context, whilst I was doing a charity walk between London and Brighton, which I didn`t complete (not good enough, not good enough) I found out that my stepmother was pregnant, I must say at the time I was a little surprised but not overly fussed, my parents didn`t have much to do with me or I them, anyway fast forward back to October and when we got home from the Ritz there was a letter waiting for me from my step mum, she had lost the baby in August, of course I felt upset for her after all I had just found out that I had lost my sister, then 2 weeks later Gran fell down the stairs and broke her leg putting her back in hospital where she would stay for 6 months, my Mother once again tried convincing the family that I had pushed Gran down the stairs, again thankfully the family didn`t buy it, but once again questions were asked about my suitability, putting Gran in a home and what the hell was she doing climbing stairs in the first place? then two days after Gran as admitted to hospital a friend of mine just dropped dead in the street outside her house, she was only 25, what made this worse for me was that for weeks before she had been telling me she thought she was going to die and I had reassured her that she still had at least sixty years left , the guilt was unbearable, two deaths and the pressure of looking after Gran was starting to tell, it was at this point that the voices in my head started.
For the next six months I was physically on my own, no one came to see me, suicide crossed my mind, after all what had I to live for? what had I done with my life. (at this point.....Gotten 5 GCSE`s, an AVCE, a University Degree, Duke of Edinburgh Bronze Award, Mountain Leader Summer Award, Single Pitch Award [climbing qualification], Archery leader award, Fencing leader award, Orienteering award, Australian Bushwalk Award, Australian Canoe Award, Australian Cycling Award, Australian High Ropes Award, Wilderness first aid, Advanced Wilderness First Aid, Been to France, Spain, Denmark, Belgium, Holland, Czech Republic, Morocco, USA, Australia [and technically Thailand although I don`t count that as it was a over night layover] learnt to drive, learnt to ride motorbikes, learnt to drive with a trailer [its a separate licence to tow a trailer in the UK] and had knowledge of so many other things but no I`d done nothing) and well if you`ve read the first part of this blog you`ll know what happened next.
So that`s it, the past, hopefully you`ll understand why I slipped into the deep depression I did and why its taken me so long to start fighting back but fight back I will, with the help and support I get now (although still not from family!) this is a fight I`m determined to win.
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