my english homework... finished ... not for the faint hearted!

“Or look how cute she is?”
“She’s adorable and so tiny too!”
“Bless.”

I was secretly born broken, no one knew it and the world wasn’t expecting it!

Brought up in a somewhat dysfunctional family, dad pissed off just as I was six weeks old and left my big baby sister at 18 months old forever pining for her daddy!
How could this be? How could I be who I am today if it wasn’t for the horrible, unforgiving things and tragedy’s in the past.
I often think that I would be better off dead or somewhere I couldn’t be repeatedly harmed by others.
Being the only one in my family that is broken and I feel like I’m no use no ornament no matter how hard I try to be normal, it will never happen, I’m just a burden on my family and friends. I have over eight disabilities how did this happen?
I’m a broken toy handmade by two people that worked all through the night and bought unbroken but over time I’m becoming more and more unfixable and the shop keeper can’t ever fix me, I’m just part of the scrap that is chucked over one’s shoulders and they never take a second look back.
Maybe everything that has happened to me is my own fault and maybe I made it happen! Is there hope for me? Did I mention I was bullied by my primary school head teacher Mr Alan Padden? Oh what a fucking wanker he was!


My life is full of never ending happenings and stories, this is a passage from a poem of mine called;
The confuzzled girl…

“Is it me or am I going mad?

Is it me or am I going crazy?

Is it me that made myself like this?

I’m Sophia and I’m 18. I’m no commoner but I’m no ordinary kid on the block either. I'm not faking who I am or kidding the kidder, I’m just me but I don't know who me is anymore!! I am confuzzled by the world and maybe the world is confuzzled by me. It is slowly spinning around but it feels its going too fast!!! Blasted through time and space that brings me to this present day and I have to find my own way through life. “

Is it me trying to fool myself to thinking that I’m normal? Well maybe I’m a “special nobody?!?!?”
Discriminated through out most of the whole eighteen years that I have been on this planet even though it felt like I have been on a different one for half of it, I started self harming at the age of fourteen, I know what you’re going to say and maybe ask “why? What made you do it or even start to do such a thing like that?” I have Aspergers syndrome, A.D.H.D and Hyper-mobility syndrome and so much other shit too but I will tell you that later my dear friend. My mum had a boyfriend called David he was a violinist, David shouted allot called me and my sister, Georgette “Bitch, slag!” plus all the names under the humongous sun, I couldn’t stand it.

Getting bullied at school as per usual so I suppose it’s a typical teenage situation, well think again! I was experiencing things that weren’t right and normal, not even normal for a “special nobody” like me. I still have the scarrs on my left lower arm four years on, I tried to kill myself too and nothing is too personal to really write or talk about because everything that you say, shows through your personality and your personality is the most personal thing to you. I come across as a happy bubbly young adult although I have Aspergers syndrome it never really stopped me socialising with people. Aspergers syndrome is a learning disability it’s not seen as a personality disorder but it should be because for allot of people that have it, it seriously affects who they are and what not. What I’m about to tell you is not because that this story is meant to be “somewhat safe to read, because its not, its meant for me to connect to you on a very personal open level, we are all adults at the end of the day and its not my Aspergers that made me write this or I misinterpreted what someone might have said for me to write about because it’s not. I just wanted to make that clear.

It was my own choice to self harm and to try and kill myself, the reasons behind it might not have been though, so taking forty paracetamol and mum’s stash of highly killer medicines was my choice of self inflicted attempted murder! It didn’t hurt just I felt numb from the inside out. Dressed as a Mosher because that was all I knew back then.
Later that year I went to a student pub called “The dry dock,” it was Valentines Day also it was a Tuesday and all the Leeds students know what that means,
£ £ £ £ QIUDS IN!! £1.00 A PINT NIGHT!!!!
They were giving out traffic light stickers, red for “No go I’m taken” amber for “I’m taken but I like to have one night stands with out my partner knowing,” and last but not lest green for “Hay look over here, yer me come on then; do your best to chat me up!!!” I was the green sticker and even though I was with a friend called Danny Wishart who at the time I fancied the fuck out of!
I was still on the “bird market.” Soo eight pints later and five alcho-pops I met a guy called Ark, you must be thinking “what this got to do with anything?” well you’ll just have to bloody wait and see.

I ran out of fags at about one in the morning and I was with this guy I was Soo fucking pissed off my face it was untrue, I could hardly stand up! Obviously there’s no shops open at that time, so this guy who was about 24 took me down a passage way- like those public dodgy tunnels you find that go underneath motorways, well it was basically one of them, I was pinned up against the wall falling in and out of consciousness,
I turned round and said “look no I’m so drunk that I can’t even kiss you and what not.” Can you guess what happened next? … He raped me. To this day I remember his face and the style of clothing he wore even his hair, I’ve seen him in Pudsey in 2006 working in dominoes at the time I had a boyfriend that didn’t last long, his name was Ashley.  It was my choice to get so drunk that night and that lead to me being in that situation, so maybe the whole thing was my fault?
This wouldn’t be that last time this would happen to me.

I never understood what the word “rape” meant or what it actually entailed, my mum brought us up in such a tight little bubble and hid us from the dark side of society that I never learnt fast enough and it became too late for me, plus because I never understood even though I do now it’s not something I’ve been dwelling on in my mind really, same goes for the other two times as well. Like I said my life is full of never ending happenings, stories, woes and sorrow’s and I don’t want your sympathy; I just want you to realise and understand that the world isn’t full of butterflies and bunny rabbits jumping in golden fields and over pretty rainbows. This is reality and it’s a never ending struggle through life, so why do we put our self’s through it, if it’s going to end in pain, hurt and death??
We will never know the desperate question that we all seek, maybe someone high and mighty chose for us to never find it out. This story is about choice and what happens when we make such decision; it’s also my chance to discover who I truly am and what purpose I have to another person or persons.

This story means allot to mean but at the same time it doesn’t, I guess that might not make much sense to you but hay I’m broken so what does it matter. I didn’t choose to go to college, I never really had a say in the matter, I’ve been forced too for three straight years by my mother who I pleaded with not to put me through such stress and aggravation that has now become an extra burden to me. Great, just what I needed.
I’ve done some things in my life that I deeply regret and some that I don’t but that life. When I mentioned about me coming across too HAPPY that I’m almost perfectly happy and bubbly, well never judge a book by its cover as they say! I’m not as people perceive me to be, it’s a total front. Well that’s what I’ve come to my own conclusion for now anyway.
I’m bullied and mentally tortured and scared all the time and I suppose it’s always going to be that way, when will it end? My friends take the piss out of me all the time because of who I am, I didn’t choose to have all these “attachments” that are stitched on somewhere inside my head, they don’t take the piss and joke about for what I stand for thought even thou its basically the same thing. I don’t think nobody would even dare to question my believes and what I stand for and the effort and commitment I put in to what has become a life-long passion but a life long invisible jail sentence too, especially when I’m the disability students officer.

In the end I play along joking about myself, taking the fucking piss out of myself and I have been doing for a couple of years… I suppose by doing that, that you’re helping yourself to stay somewhat sane and not go deluded but think about it for a second……… when your doing that your actually really hurting and scarring yourself deep down inside mentally maybe in your sub concuss, this front allot of people do it, it is only a temporary sanity realise but it will come back and haunt you later on down the line. I’ve been the disability officer for my college (Park Lane College Leeds) for two and a half years running, the first year was really good, finding my feet and really trying hard at it but the students really couldn’t give a bloody toss about disability awareness weeks and what not.

Then there was Martin Cass A.K.A Leon Cass, he was the welfare officer and yes he fancied me but nearly black teeth,  some chipped and missing plus his big bear belly too that’s a red traffic light sticker on me, I told him I didn’t like him but we used to get on really well, I mean I teased him like some girls do but it never went further than that, until last year when he turned into one of those horrible men shall we say and I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t go anywhere I was at his flat in the middle of rough Bradford!  The next day i returned into college and spoke like nothing had happened that the church concert we went to was ace  which it was but why is it the people your close to and trust the most stab you in the back and do such unforgivable things and crimes? I’ve never gone to the police, never gone for counselling and I’ve never told my mum.
Every year I grieve for my three friends; Aimée (13yrs old), Luke (11) and Kim (33) they died in 2005 on Sunday the 13th or March. It was just as I was doing my GCSE’S, it should have been me could have died or maybe I could have saved them from the sea that claimed my never ending love for them and their lives. I was meant to go that day to Scarborough but there turned out not to be enough room in the car.
Me and my sister was the last people that saw Aimée as she came running down the path of my front garden, she was only diddy bless her, I was in bed at the time it must have been about 10.00am I should have been up though.

http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/40926000/jpg/_40926969_kim_barrett300.jpg

I got diagnosed with epilepsy on Friday 07th of March 2008; the day my life couldn’t possibly get any worse or could it? That word “Epilepsy” was such a relief to hear it felt like my prayers had been answered because those feelings and indescribable strange happenings when I was 14 was the Epilepsy, I could have had it since I was a really young child but nobody would have known because of the Aspergers syndrome and A.D.H.D was more “physically” present at the time; but at the same time it did feel like a knife and a golden bullet both with my name on them, going straight into my body and it’s stuck there forever until someone can be assed to find a cure for me and my fellow friends.   I know it sound the most bazaar odd and crazy of what I just said there but that’s the only way I can describe it.

here are some of my peoms i would like to share with you.

I have epilepsy, what does
that mean?
Does it mean I’m a retard;
a spastic?
Does it mean it come and
goes as it pleases?

Fucking twitches
man...OMG...
I’m scared... what will
the future hold for me?
When will I have a say on
what happens to mybody…will I ever have a say?
It’s never ending. When
will it stop?
What’s it like to be
normal?
I have never experienced
normality,
I have Autism and A.D.H.D
too.
Please step into my shoes
just for one day.
And then I can step into
yours,
Just to see what it’s like
to feel normal.
What’s the definition of
normal?
Is there such a thing a
being "normal"?
I feel pissed and drunk
half the time.
I’m above cloud nine...
more like cloud
High.... high above the
Ozone
Layer heading in to space.
Apparently I’m category
*A.*
Patient according to the
hospital,
What does that mean?
What’s the meaning of “living
the high life”, when life Hits you in the brain 10 or more times a day?
I will never be able to
drive or go to a night club.
I’m 18 this year...
I will never be able to
drink,
But I am determined to
move out
And live in a place of my
own.
I can never have caffeine
as it
Brings on a 60 or more
seizures in
One day and I will have 35
of these bastard Things;
All in the space of half
en hour
And it can put me into a
coma and then might decide to kill me.
Wow... it so hot...is it
just me or is it really hot in here….?? .. Fuck I’m going to have a seizure; it’s not a
"fit" but a Mexican wave in my brain.

It’s bloody Russian
roulette honestly...go on… spin around a thousand times… in the dark and then
pull the trigger and see if it hits me.... nope not yet... GO on do it again...I
dare you!?!?... ARHH.... you got me…. I’m falling...boom!!!...O SHIT… I CAN'T
SPEAK...I CAN'T BREATH....I'M GOING BLUE... I NE..I NEE.. I… NEED...DI..DI..DI..DIA...DIA...Z.E...PA...PA...PAM...!!

QUICK... HURRY.... TRY NOT
TO WORRY IF I SHAKE AND BLEED FROM MY MOUTH… BY THE TIME YOU GET BACK FROM
CALLING THE AMBULANCE!!!
It just means I am having
a Grand-mal or another form of a complex partial seizure.

Epilepsy is not a disease But
a condition.

Yes…..

...I admit and accept that I
have epilepsy;
And yes all of us that
have it, have a silent ticking time bomb in our heads.

SO… I will shout out to
the world that I do exist … WE exist... please don't burn me or my fellow
friends at the stake like our ancestor's did, or punish us because we are
different, let me be…let US be. HELP me and the others to find a cure for this
condition; as its not contagious or a disease... it just means there is two
parts of me...one is hidden and only comes out to embarrass me and makes me and
my friends feel like a freak show.

I have epilepsy!!!!

fragile mind and a fragile heart! (help help ....sending my s.o.s)

who to blame for these seizures, god, Allah, moses, man, the air we breath, or the shiny moon.

its a silent killer at times, my brain deprives me of my own right to
breath, i want to live a life with out the feeling of a knife to my
head!

i shouldn't feel weak at the knees, but i do.

my nephew says i look like a dancing wiggly worm, for a few seconds, he asked me why i dance like that? i replied,
"my mummy and daddy bought me in a shop, i was as perfect as they came,
but as time has gone by, i have become a broken auntie, a broken
daughter, a broken sister
and a last but not lest a broken person and the shop keeper can't fix
me."! he runs up to me and hugs me tight , i cry at night, i hope he
will never see me like that again.

time stands still for me , feelings of flower power building up in my belly, flashes on the telly, a storms approaching ...... will it change direction or will it stay on course? if it does then will be defiantly be sweep me off my feet. my heart goes out to my future children who will have this time bomb ticking away, is there a re-set button any were?

..... help..help i can't speak...over powered by this disgusting smell, and the rusty metal i breath and taste ,, its has polluted, poisoned me .... help help.... this is an S.O.S for you from me.

by sophia hill

This is the girl who  was secretly Born broken sharing my heart to you all.