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Win-Conquer-Fight

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By Monziie DwumfourPublished 5 years ago 6 min read
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My name is Monique Dominique Dwumfour. I am a black 25-year-old married young lady. I am a BA degree holder in Criminology, Psychology, and Social Justice. I aspire to being a mental health ambassador/speaker. I want to share with you a synopsis of my well-being story. This is my life.

At the age of one, I was taken into care. I don't remember much. The most I do remember or should I say my earliest childhood memory was my baby brother joining us eight months later and both of us on the bed whilst guests popped in and out to look at us as if we were a showcase or high scale celebrity children. Fast forward to my memory days. I acted in the Lion King for six months on the West End stage. However, when I left Lion King, I noticed I felt really empty. I remember my foster caretaker saying "you see, they didn't even want you there." Those words crushed me. Acting was my escape from a lot of pain I had harboured. At the age of nine, I was told, "you see, your mother never even fought for you in court. Look, she doesn't even want you." (Unknown to me, she suffered from mental illness and wasn't able to be there). I cried a lot of silent tears All I knew I had to WIN, CONQUER, AND FIGHT JUST TO SURVIVE.

At 12 years old, I knew how to pray, but all my prayers were about me dying. I remember one night kneeling in front of my window. Saying GOD PLEASE KILL ME. Whilst staring at the pitch black moonlit sky as tears flood my face. It pained me to wake up every morning. At 13, years old I started smoking this made me feel top dog cool. Inhale. Exhale. Somewhat of a relief. By 13, I was FED UP. I had enough. I found out my mum wasn't this uncaring old bat that I was made to believe. I asked my mum eyeball to eyeball. All I wanted was the truth. Why didn't you fight for us?? Why did you do this? What is wrong with you??? Everyone keeps telling me you are sick, but how are you sick? She replied, "Mon, mummy was in a hospital. Mummys not well in my head." Then she broke down in tears. All my anger and venom for my mum left me when I embraced her. That second I knew; no matter what. My job will always be to protect her.

Letting go of hating my mum led my anger and frustration to the source. Why would you lie to me? Why would you do that? How could you be so malicious? I truly had enough. With every beating I got, I wasn't backing down. ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. I told my mum what she was doing. I told my older sisters, I showed them the marks. Social services then got involved although I hated them. I thought no I'm telling them everything. For 13 years, I was told don't tell them I hit you. Well, time's up. Now they know. They NEVER BELIEVED ME. No one backed me up. 13years, I was alone. Do something, please! Nope, all we can do is take you away and put you in a children's home in Kent. Hold on. My brother, my sister. I can't leave them. Eventually she came back for me and told social services she wants me back. I never understood, if I was lying about what you did. I'm about to make you get into a lot of trouble. I've stolen from you. Smashed things in your house. WHY WOULD YOU WANT ME BACK. I went along with it. If it meant not leaving my sister or brother then, of course, I'm going back. That night it all became clear. "Yes so mi tek back di girl, mi not going to prison fi nobody." Okay! Well, as the songwriter said, "WAGING WAR."

I learnt how to be petty. I learnt how to steal. I learnt how to lie and I was master of being mouthy. I found my mantra in life—if you're going to hurt me, I am going to hurt you first! But it all backfired. For four years, I endured mental and emotional abuse. I gave in. I developed a relationship with God, that never stopped me from trying to kill myself. That never stopped me from wanting to die. I was constantly told you are going to be just like your mum. You are sick. Only mad people do what you do. So I believed it. I am sick. I do have mental health. That's when self-harm became my new best friend. I'd run nails not deep enough to cut me but enough to Welt my skin and scratch me. Inhale-Exhale. One day I saw scissors I heard the voice say stab your arm so I did till this day. I have the scar on my left forearm. I just remember seeing blood. Thankfully, I was a girl so blood stained sheets meant a leak during the night. When I got to school the next day, I told the nurse I had cut my hand she dressed it and put a bandage and plaster I told her I had a hospital appoint to get it checked out. Just so she wouldn't call home.

17 years old, I ran away, on February 11th, 2011. Good, so now here I am. Facing the world. I can say I was scared. I felt so alone. I never wanted to be here. For years I did not cry... I kept it in. Now, I've become a baby. That's when I realised I'm struggling. Too afraid to say anything because then I'd defo end up like my mum. I just had to try and cope. Smile. Be extra and pray nobody notices.

Just as I turned 21... I met my best friend. He loved me as I should. I was always afraid he would get bored and leave me. Or that I would do something and he would give up on me, following my life pattern. At times I felt I was never Good enough. I even thought he was and sometimes is too good for me. All I do know is He was the greatest end to all my previous pains. Getting married at 24 some say you are too young. But I believe in God's timing. I said I'm too scared to break or share things because yes although I have people in my life who have supported me, they too have their own lives. No-one wants to hear me go on and on however, I knew opening would leave me exposed. At night I knew I'd have to battle alone. Right now I have someone who battles with me. I'm no longer scared to speak about my pain because I have him and God and a few close people who I lean on. That's human love, I needed all these years. Now I am spreading my story. There is still lots I haven't spoken about.

So in the words of Nicki Minaj—"I came to win, to fight, to conquer, to fly. Now is my flying time." If you face anything, always know that:

  1. You should get help.
  2. Abuse is never your fault.
  3. Everything ends beautifully. Even if the end is just getting away and rebuilding.

Thank you for reading.

—Monz

self help
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About the Creator

Monziie Dwumfour

I am 25 years old and I am pursuing to be a mental health awareness campaigner.

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