I am telling this story hoping that it may help people who, in their life, have suffered sexual abuse and have never received any help because they feel that it was their own fault.

I was born in 1949, in Shropshire, the only child to a very caring mother but, unfortunately, a father who worked hard but, drank every penny he earned. At the age of three my father died with a damaged kidney and having only being born with one kidney, and there were no transplants in that era, he left me and my mum to care for ourselves.
I do not remember much about my father but, in later years my mother told me that there had never been any trips to the park with him, seaside outings, cuddles or those magic words “I love you”. After my father’s death my mother had to work very hard to support us both, she was a very proud woman and would not ask for help.

Her days were taken up with nursing in our local hospital and she also did cleaning work for local folk. She was a very quiet woman religious, never missed church on Sundays but, because of the money situation, we never had days out together, holidays or time for love and cuddles. At the age of five my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and by the time I was seven she had had both breasts removed. She struggled on working hard to keep a roof over our heads and I was now cooking, cleaning, ironing and doing the weekly shopping to help my mother who was a very sick woman.

At seven years of age I knew my mother was really sick again with cancer, this time in her stomach, she started receiving treatment and was now unable to work. I used to come home from school not knowing if she would be there or in hospital, but our next door neighbour always took me in if she was in hospital.

From the age of seven until I reached eleven years old I cared and looked after my Mum as best I could, she had a sister but she did not want to know and my mum did not want her help. Every day became harder for us both, the cancer was spreading fast and I was missing school as I did not want to leave her.

The last time I remember my Mum was seeing her in a hospital bed weighing five and half stone, with no hair, and a terrible cough. She looked like a skeleton lying on the bed.  Some days when I went to see her I used to pray that she would go to heaven and be free of all this pain

On Monday January 8th 1960 at 12.00pm my mother passed away with me at her bedside holding her hand and not quite understanding what really was happening. My world seemed to have come to an end. At this stage of my life I really did not know what a childhood was because from the age of five I had to grow up very quickly and I don’t regret this at all.  My only regrets were that I did not feel I had had any love and family life. My mother was buried; I don’t remember much about the day, other than the sobbing and thinking this really was the end of the world.

The council wanted the house back to re-let and I was given just 2 weeks to remove everything and find a new home. Social Services were involved and were very kind to me, they explained that nobody seemed to want to take me in and therefore I would be sent to a home until I was sixteen.

My mother’s sister (they were not close at all) decided she would take me in, not because she wanted to, but as a sense of duty more than anything else. I thought this was a lovely idea as she had a daughter my age that went to the same school as me.  All my life I just wanted to be part of a loving family, doing things together like going to the park, or taking picnics together, eating at a table together, simple things but, very important to me.

I was soon to learn that this was not going to happen and this was going to be the beginning of a very unhappy life which would cause me a great deal of harm up until 60 years of age. Quite a slice to be taken out of your life!!

Things were not good.  My cousin hated me and saw me as an intruder.  Children at school bullied me and called me Orphan Annie.  Teachers called me a Dunce which I found out later in years that I was not. I found out that I was dyslexic.

Soon after moving in with my Aunt (who worked as a nurse and did night shifts) something happened which was to continue for many years. I was asleep in my bed one night when the door opened and in walked my uncle.  The nightmare had started.

Every night around nine, the door handle would turn on my bedroom door.  This panting breath would whisper in my ear.  My uncle would start to fondle me, touching me all over hands inside my nightdress, touching my breasts and holding me down firm in the bed. Each visit got worse and worse and I lay there thinking I would rather be dead then have to go through this night after night. Why did I not do anything about it?
I couldn’t, as he said if I told anybody I would be taken away in a big black police van and locked up for the rest to my life. I felt dirty, different from other kids, alone, not worthy of being liked by anybody and ashamed I was allowing all this to happen.

Night after night the same thing would happen, the door handle would turn, the door would open and the sexual events would take place until I was bruised, and if I tried to fight him off he would burn my body with cigarette burns. My whole body would tremble, this certainly was the worst part of my life and now I was too afraid to tell anybody as I felt it was entirely my own fault.

This went on for a few years until one night I lost control and when he tried something with me in the bathroom I pushed him over.  This only made him more and more angry and the angrier he got the more he sexually abused me.

I had no friends at school as I felt not good enough to have them and so I became a recluse, to the point I could not mix with anyone. Teachers thought I was an unfriendly child and often put that on my report.
In modern times this sort of abuse would hopefully have been picked up right away, but in my era if you did not have a mum and dad it was really looked down on.

The one thing I did excel at school was at hockey (about the only thing) and got into the school team, won medals for outstanding goalkeeper and could have played for the County which could have lead to playing for England one day. Again I had problems with the teacher. I would not take off my long sleeved top and track bottoms because of bruising and cigarette burns. I therefore was sent to the head mistress who said because I was so disobedience I would not be allowed to play again in the school team.

This was the final straw, I was no longer been able to cope I woke up one morning with a plan. I packed a small bag with a few items in, took a very small amount of money out of my money box and swore that I would leave for school but, never come back to this house again. I would never allow this door handle to turn again at night and never allow anybody to hurt me again. I left for school as normal the next day having no idea where I was going. I took a bus to Wolverhampton and walked around the town, at last thinking I was free and felt quite happy.  Although I felt released, at the age of thirteen I soon became a little frightened and wondered where I could go
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I remembered a park in Wolverhampton where my Aunt had once taken my cousin and myself in the holidays.  I made my way to the park and found an empty bench and curled up on it feeling quite afraid but also relieved. I did not sleep very well and was woken up by a tramp who asked me what a young girl was doing here at this time of night on her own.

To cut a long story short the police arrived and all my past history came out.
I had several examinations and after telling my story to them, my uncle was arrested and sent to prison for quite a long time.

I was then put in a home which I enjoyed, met some lovely people, and was cared for the best I had ever been in my life. Unfortunately in my era you did not have any counselling or help for what had happened to you in your past life.  I now thought that life would be great and where ever my mother was, I was going to make her proud of me.

At sixteen I had to leave the home and start and make a life on my own for myself.
They set me up in a small flat, I was given a job in an office which was a family business and life seemed good, except the memories were still there and I found it very hard to sleep at nights.

At 20 years of age I married and had a lovely daughter Emma. She is now 32 years of age, married with a lovely husband Ash and has a lovely son Joshua who is eight years old.

Unfortunately my marriage did not work. When you are young you sometimes don’t really understand the word love. I married a Jewish guy, and therefore had to reform and I became a reformed Jew which was a big mistake. I think now, not at the time, that I was looking more to be part of a family. This was my biggest dream in life.

We parted and I brought Emma up on my own. I was determined to help people and started working with drug addicts. I enjoyed bringing my daughter up and of course we are so close now that we are more like sisters.

I worked very hard thinking I was happy but, deep down I knew I was never going to be happy.  Emma married and at 50 years of age my life was to change again. I met Michael and after five years we married. Michael has been my rock and strength and knows that although I appeared to be happy on the outside there was still a lot from my childhood which needed sorting out.

I had very low self esteem, little confidence, always sitting at the back, never wanted to be a front person and cared for everybody else except myself.

Our marriage was sometimes difficult and I know it was entirely my fault. The sexual side was very difficult because of my past. I had a stroke and I think it was all the worry and stress from the past that built up.  I really needed help. I went to my local Doctors several times and he just dismissed it and put it down to the change of life, I knew it was far deeper than that, but I would not let go and tell anybody what had happened in the past. I built up the courage to tell Mike but, no one else knew, not even my daughter.

Mike suggested that we retire to Spain and maybe the climate and different life style would help me.  I had worked very hard in my life and my daughter and Mike thought it was about time to take it easy and do a few things for myself. We came to Spain three and a half years ago.

During the first three years out here things got worse, I had more time on my hands and the past was hounding me, I could not sleep or relax, it was pounding at me all the time.
It came to the stage that last August,2009 when my daughter, and grandson came out here to have a holiday with us, not only did I not want Mike around me, but I did not want my daughter around me neither. She went back to England very upset and told her step dad (they are very close and Mike treats her as a daughter and she treats Mike as a father) that she did not know me anymore I was not the Mum she used to know.

The following day I had a breakdown and was in the very black area of suicide and planned on getting rid of myself. I was put on anti-depressants. My mind kept telling me I was guilty, I was not fit to have a daughter, or even a husband.  I could not carry on like this.

Then something happened to me that completely changed my life.

I met Mark, my life-saver, my rock and strength, someone who cares someone who listens and most of all someone for the first time in my life I trusted enough to tell him about my past.  I had to let go otherwise I would have killed myself and how selfish is that to the people you leave behind.  You end up putting your guilt on them.  None of my family deserved this, as they are very loving, caring people.

I will never forget the day when I walked into Dr. Evans’s Clinic in Albir, I was desperate and would have done anything to be cured of all this guilt. I was greeted by Amanda, one of Dr. Evan’s nurses. I just fell in her arms and said straight out that I needed help, I was feeling suicidal. She understood right away what was wrong and recommended that I have a chat with Mark. I had a consultation with him and he told me that he believed that I did not need to see a psychiatrist I would benefit from a course of  Pure HypnoAnalysis©. I arranged to see him for his 8-12 week course. He helped me so much, and I responded so quickly that I only needed 7 sessions.

In the sessions, the first thing Mark does is make you feel relaxed.  He gets you to like yourself again, gives you confidence, and takes the guilt away.  One minute you cannot talk about it for 49 years then all of a sudden you are telling this stranger everything that happened without any pressure. In my first few sessions I used to creep in, not say much and I am sure that Mark knew that I was weighing him up.
Each session I had with Mark got easier and easier and I started to open up more and more, eventually on my last session I actually said I am not guilty of anything.
This was the turning point for me. I was able to talk to Mark about the past without crying or feeling guilty.

My life has changed completely.  I had given up on clothes, having my hair done and looked about 10years older than my age.  This has now all changed. I love looking smart and taking a pride in my appearance, having different hair styles and wanting to look good again.

I go back often as a friend just to say hello and each time he does not recognise me as he says I  look so much younger.  I laugh now, tell jokes, and have recently made a speech at my 60th birthday party, which is something I could never have done before I met Mark.

Last Christmas even my grandson noticed.  He said “nana you look different in the face, have you had some work done on it?” I said that a very good man in Spain had helped nana get better. He said “yes and I know who that man was, It was Jesus”.

It is things like this and my daughter constantly telling me that she has got her old mumback that makes this all worth while and all thanks once again to Mark..

One of the hardest things I had to do was tell my daughter. She has been a rock of support and is always there for me. I love her so much. My husband, family, and friend’s support also helped me too.

Mark taught me to deal with the situation and then deal with it as an adult, not as that young child.  I can talk about it freely now without feeling guilty but, as far as I am concerned the past has all been burnt away.

To all you women or men out there who have suffered a long time ago or even suffering now, it is never too late to get help.  Please don’t end up like me waiting until you are 60.    My life at present is the best it has ever been for me.  If only I had found Mark years ago I need not have put myself or my family through all of this.

Abuse is a terrible thing which can lead people to end their lives. Without Mark I truly feel I would not be here today to tell my story.
I am no longer that creature who would creep in to see Mark without much conversation looking years older than my age, frightened to mix with people because I thought I was guilty of a terrible crime, frightened to speak up for myself.  My husband can not stop me talking now and I skip in and out to see Mark now but just as a friend, I don’t need any more counselling because it has all gone, it does not exist.

Mark has several clinics and everything you tell him is private and confidential, he does not sit and judge you, he helps you to realise that whatever happened or is happening, sexual abuse is not your fault.  Please get help through him, don’t leave it as long as I did.

Mark has also given me the family life that I have wanted all my life by showing me that I am an OK person, that people do love and care for me but most of all taught me how to love again.

Mark will always be a special professional person in my life and a friend. Without him I wouldn’t be here today to tell my story. I am also off all my medication. Great or what!!

Thank you Mark, my rock, my healer of life, for giving me the chance to have a good life, saving my life and being my friend.

Thanks.
Sam
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