life, mum

Miss Doormat

I am actually fed up of putting everyone else first now. I let my happiness ride on other people’s and I need to stop. Being selfless is fine when other people are selfless towards you too, but I do everything for everyone else and receive nothing back.

My partner, for example, I will always treat when I go out. I will bring him back a cake or a milkshake whenever I go to town. When we go for lunch he will tell me he’s hungry, but then when we get there he will then say ‘I’m not buying anything,’ and me, feeling guilty, ends up ordering for him anyway and taking on the bill despite him making over 5x my wage. He doesn’t really treat me though, or he does, but not very often. He will say something like ‘would you like a fizzy drink or something from the shops?’ and if I say yes, he will then proceed to ask me where my purse is.

Then my mum is the person I will literally do anything for. She points out something in a shop she really likes, I go back the next day and buy it for her to surprise her, irrelevant of the cost. She’s struggling for money, that’s okay, I’m the bank of Lauren. When we go out for lunch, don’t worry, it’s my treat. But yet this is what happens when I need a lift:

And I know it looks like it’s over something really little, but in reality it’s not, because what people don’t realise (although my mum is fully aware,) is that I suffer from anxiety so bad that I can’t leave the house on my own most days.


Mum’s Biopsy

Mum is currently on her way to the hospital right now for a biopsy, due to the fact she keeps bleeding and they’ve found the lining of her womb to be too thick. They are going to check for any abnormalities and also for cancer.

She seems to think that she’s been given a death sentence already. She’s already told me that she would want me to live in Nan’s old house (my nan died 7 years back, but the house is still in the family, being rented out,) spoken to my sister about living arrangements, as she’s only 11 – She decided that she’d want to live with me and see her dad weekends, and Mum made me promise that if anything happens to her, to go on and live a full, happy life without her. She has also decided the fact that her friends are giving her presents and sending her sweet texts is a bad omen. I’m now rethinking the fact that I have bought her presents for her bravery for when she gets home.

I now have a long wait, as she and a few other women have been given the same time slot and whoever arrives first gets to have their procedure first, so she could go in straight away, or she could be waiting for an hour. The not knowing is the worst part. I’ve messaged her to let me know when it’s her time, but she hasn’t replied yet, so either hasn’t checked her phone or hasn’t got any signal.

The worst part is that I’m actually terrified. I’m sat here having panic attack after panic attack and crying, even though it’s pretty much a routine procedure. I know she’ll be home in a couple of hours, but it’s all so surreal and I can’t imagine ever having to face the prospect of losing my mum.

life, mum

Sometimes haven’t a cool mum isn’t so cool

My boyfriend has always said that he would much prefer a mum like mine to his, as his mum is very protective and mine is much more easy going and wanting me to get out and do things. She is in her 40s and just beginning to live her life now after having me at a young age and then being in a long term relationship, whereas his mum is settled down and married. Although there are so many benefits to a mum like mine, the weekends where Mum lets loose by going out and drinking with her mates can be a royal pain in the ass. Before she goes out there is a ton of asking me if she looks fat, checking her makeup, telling her what shoes go best, helping her pick out her jewellery etc and by the time she leaves I am exhausted. Tonight she came home drunk, talking loudly, walked upstairs to my bed and went to sleep on my arm. I sat in the same position until she woke up. She then decided she felt sick so I had to lock up the house, so I went downstairs and put the cats outside and locked up and went to go back to bed. But then she realised she didn’t have her phone so I had to go back downstairs to get her phone which she said was in her bag, but it wasn’t. Turned out it was in a different bag which she doesn’t normally use so I wouldn’t have known to look in it. Finally, I go to bed. Ten minutes later a missed phone call from my mum. I call out her name but she doesn’t reply so I tiredly get out of bed and go to her room where she is led in bed squinting at the bright screen of her phone. I ask her what she wants and turns out she ‘pressed the wrong button.’


Mark Roberts

My mum was smiling about this handsome man that she had met, who was cousins with the boyfriend of her best friend. A few days later, he asked her on a date and she accepted. He began regularly taking her out for meals; she would get dressed up and run out of the house and into his car. He would park away from the house, as mum didn’t want me and my sister meeting him yet, as it was early days. I would creep up behind her, hide behind the bushes and watch them drive off together, wandering who this mysterious man was. They carried on going out for meals together for a few months, but after a while, mum realised that he wasn’t the right one for her and she decided to stop going out for meals with him.

They both moved on and got into new relationships and a year or two later, she got a text to say that he was dead. Mark Roberts had been murdered:

he had been walking through a park when he was approached by four teenagers – Sheppard, who was 17 at the time, another boy and two girls, aged between 15 and 17.

The girl from Bristol, who was 15 at the time, had been accused of attacking Mr Roberts and then using her mobile phone to film Sheppard beating him to death.

She filmed for about 90 seconds during the attack, which involved kicking and stamping on Mr Roberts and repeatedly banging his head on the pavement, it was said.

Jurors heard the video clip was later deleted and police have never been able to recover it.

Mr Roberts suffered a cardiac arrest and was taken to Weston General Hospital where he died 36 hours later.

When the attack happened, Mark was walking home drunk and it was the alcohol mixed with the blunt force trauma to his head that killed him.

Ryan Sheppard pleaded guilty to the murder of Mark Roberts, after shoe printed bruises were found on Mark’s forehead and blood on his shoes and elbow. He has yet to be sentenced.

The girl who filmed the attack was found… not guilty!

I do not understand how she could have been found not guilty, when any other normal human being would have stopped the murder and not filmed the attack! She was just as much to blame as Ryan Sheppard. I still feel sick to my stomach, thinking of the day it happened and my mum driving home from town in tears. Whatever sentence Ryan Sheppard gets will not be enough and I hope that he rots in hell. I feel disgusted seeing the messages of support from family members and friends on Facebook!

R.I.P Mark Roberts, mum still thinks about you all of the time.


This Is Why I Love My Mum

Her life was planned out; she knew what career she wanted and she was ready to move away from Weston. That was when she found out she was pregnant with me. She was in her early 20’s… 21 or 22, with no partner to support her. She knew who the father was; his name was Dave, but after an on off relationship, they had finally split for good. The family weren’t happy about the pregnancy and she received advice to abort me… But she wouldn’t get rid of her baby. She told my dad she was pregnant with his baby and he didn’t believe her, as she’d just come back from holiday and he thought that she’d slept with another guy whilst she was abroad. Being 20 years old with no kids, I can only imagine how scared mum was at being pregnant at such a young age, facing life as a single parent.

When I was first born, my grandparents took control of parenting me, so mum didn’t get a proper shot at it until we moved into our own little place when I was about two. From a young age I wouldn’t eat and had problems sleeping at night. Mum would have to sit in the kitchen with me for hours trying to get me to eat and sometimes she used to get angry and shout at me, but who can blame her? She must have been scared, especially being a first time mum. I slept with her every night until I was about five or six and she’d have to sit with me until I fell asleep. Me and my dad had a DNA test to prove I was his and when it came back positive, he entered my life, although I carried on living with mum.
When I was four she met someone else and they moved in with each other rather soon, as me and mum were about to lose our house. She got pregnant again when she was in her 30s, with my sister Kaylee. They split when I was 16 and now she’s a single mum of two kids, working two jobs to support us both, yet she never complains about the sacrifices she makes to look after us.