Never Grow Up.

My mind seems to gravitate a lot towards my childhood; not necessarily the abuse side of things but the positive exciting memories too. You'd think that those would be easier to tolerate but in fact they are much harder to sit with. I spend hours sat reliving moments from my past and it's so vivid I can smell, touch, hear, and see those moments in time. I wish to be that little girl with blonde ringlets and freckles across her nose. The girl who hadn't yet experienced heartbreak or torture. She didn't know about violence or sexual assault. She was innocent. I wish I'd never grown up but I know that's not possible because this only happens in Disney movies.

You see that girl in those pictures? She was happy and full of life. She was incredibly shy but had a mischievous nature about her. She loved playing make believe and creating worlds for her Barbie dolls. She always got in a strop when her sisters didn't want to continue playing and left her to tidy up. Her favourite colour was pink and she loved wearing dresses. Her laugh was infectious and she was incredibly intelligent. Curious. Maybe a little too much at times. And oh she was competitive. It would get to the point that if she was losing a game she'd get up and leave because she wouldn't want to admit defeat.

A lot people from the town I grew up in remember that girl. They remember she was one of the twins. They might not have been able to tell her apart from her sister but everyone knew of these two identical blonde girls. Shy little children who held hands all the time. And I like to think that they still see me as the same person; that trauma didn't alter their perception too much. Because as the abuse started this little girl started to change. The clouds rolled in and her smile faltered. She didn't laugh as loudly and she didn't care for games or stories ending with a happily ever after. Her personality became numbed. She grew up too quickly in the space of weeks. Childhood ended the minute he started hurting her. She was barely 10 years old.

As a child a lot of us wish to grow up to be able to do all the exciting things adults get to do. We long to be seventeen to learn to drive or eighteen to enjoy our first legal drink. To make our own choices and revel at how much freedom we would have. It's something most children long for because school feels like it takes too long. That the years go so very slowly and you desperately want to be out in the real world doing amazing things. Now I know many of my friends, like me, regret that dream because when you're a child you don't understand the responsibilities of being an adult. The monotonous tasks. The need to budget money and clean and look after everyone else. The scary element of being independent. And then you begin to wish you had not wished for the years of childhood to pass so very quickly. You long to go back. And I share this. But then for me I missed half of my childhood anyway and so I could have only wished for more of the before rather than the after. Because he chose to cut mine short. To make me a woman when I was just a little girl.

I see many pictures of myself as I grew older and matured. I see the light in my eyes dim over time and my energy plummet. I see the hidden signs. The realisation that the amount of pictures I allowed myself to be in decreased. In fact there are very few pictures of me between the age of 10 and 19. I didn't want anyone to see me because it was hard enough seeing my reflection most days. And maybe that's why I didn't put effort into my appearance. I wanted to disappear. I decided to try to remain childlike and so Anorexia reared it's head. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost weight and became smaller I'd become the innocent little girl I once was. A naive thought but one I held onto because how else do you return to your younger self?

At least if I did I wouldn't be covered in scars; some of my own doing and some of his. My body wouldn't be barely surviving with a poor liver function and reduced bone density. I wouldn't have thick scars along my wrists reminding me of failed attempts at taking my life. My mind wouldn't be at war with itself. I wouldn't hide underneath my sink every single night after vivid flashbacks. Nightmares would involve monsters not real life people. I wouldn't have severe trust and abandonment issues. I could be married with a career and children by now. And I wouldn't be sat here writing this in my hospital bedroom feeling so isolated. Feeling like a failure in comparison to my friends. My life wouldn't be on hold.

These days I lose far too much time staring blankly at the walls in my room. Sometimes my head is empty but usually it's replaying my life on a loop. I just sit motionless. Not even crying. Just willing time to reverse itself. To not have to be brave and strong. To be like people my own age. Living. To feel loved and safe. Because before I was 10 years old all this was within my reach: this is the hardest part to comprehend. I could have achieved so very much by now but here I am. These are my dealt cards and I suppose I do have a choice. Live or die. Remain defeated or stand up every single time and decide that I can and will get the future that little girl pictured. My life might be very different to those around me and it might take me years to catch up but giving up feels like I'm letting that little girl down. Destroying her dreams and adding to her nightmares. That's not very fair to her.

As hard as life can be for me day to day, I do keep choosing to take hesitant steps forward. They are shaky and I almost fall down each time but it's not about that. It's not about how many times I fall it's about how many times I make choices to get back up again. Whatever the cost and how ever long it takes. I owe it to that little girl because she lost everything and now she deserves everything back. It might not be the way she wanted it but life isn't linear and it isn't perfect.

I might wish I'd never grown up and that's okay. Innocence is something you can't get back after exposure to trauma. It changes you. But you can start to create a life you want. It doesn't matter how old you are because I believe it's never too late to rebuild your life. Well, unless you decide it is. Suicide is always an option but if you give up now then how will you ever find out if it was worth it to experience so much pain? You'll never know the wonderful memories you can string together once childhood has truly ended.

And this is why growing up might have it's advantages after all.