life through my eyes

my first diary entry (part 1)

I found my diary entry today, for those who have read my book who actually know me you all know that I am moving house and with that comes packing and that's when I found this, I don't know what was the first couple of pages and the date but ill tell you all what was written.

men couldn't and still cant talk about their feelings without being called a wuss and told to man up, women couldn't fully talk about their feelings without being called an attention seeker.

nobody knows anyones struggles, its heart breaking to see. as soon as someone dies due to their mental health when they where crying out for help they all suddenly care now and saying they should have talked.

its sad that the only time a man gets flowers is when its at he's buried.

you may looks around and see so many people that struggle in silence everyday and how they cope with it all the weight of the world on there shoulders.

im going to get everything off my chest.

growing up

I was born on the warmest day of the year the 9th of july 2003, in Ireland that I like to believe that its the warmest. 

my mother was young only twenty one at the time that I was born, I was the first grandchild and first niece you could say I was spoilt. I was the apple of all my families eyes, my family didn't really get on. my uncle took me to the corner of the delivery room and sang softly every rose has its thorn by posin. (that I got tattooed on me when I was 19).

in my eyes he was my father, I didn't meet my biological dad till I was nine. how could he break a heart he never knew, I met him in a DNA testing office when he couldn't even look at me in the eye. (today I have pushed away contact from him)

my mom was an angle she had her habits and most of the time we got on more like friends instead of mother and daughter. (we have got a lot closer)

most of the time I stayed with my granny, I loved her so much as much as she scolded me I miss her(she passed away when I was 14)

I saved my moms life twice when I was around 7 her lungs collapsed and I mended her back to health, cleaning and changing her bandages but it never fazed me in the sense of getting grossed out.

my granny was my best friend, we would pray at the side of her bed with our rosery beads in our hand after she prayed to get a good night sleep she would smoke a joint but I can swear to god that she was the most holy person I have ever met.

she got sick when I was ten. C.O.P.D she had it for ages, but we still sang our hearts out to garath brookes and her husband Kenny Rodgers.

 every sunday we danced with mops and when she couldn't no more I gave her a show with my mop just like I was on  strickly come dancing.

my best memories of her, she passed away 3 weeks away from my 15th birthday. 

I was bullied all through my childhood (which you all know) I was around six when my mom bought me a diary and it was pink and had a pug on it, I used to write that I wanted to kill myself and that I wasn't loved no six year old should know that feeling never mind that nobody should know that feeling. 

the crazy cookies is what we were always called for along time, little spitfires.

my weight was another issue 'puppy fat'

I had rolls and a little eyepatch I was a cutie.