A short piece describing the failures in care in the UK
When I got here, I had been through Hell. Beaten, abused and humiliated. I had to resort to stabbing myself just to get away, to get help. Eventually someone heard me, they saw me. They took me away, got me to a place they said would be safe. I could rebuild and be alright. My Sanctuary.
But it wasn't, oh no. Not even close.
Ridiculed and ignored, my offers to help others were spurned. And I was taken for a fool. The so called protectors were akin to mean teachers and bossy managers, incapable of the basics in human compassion. Although they were fine sharing with their plight. Oh yes. Broken promises, accusations and then, the crunch.
A man. A cruel twisted member of the group who worshipped drugs, who used any means to get high, a leech. He was working for his master. He hurt me. All I wanted was quiet. But BANG BANG BANG.
I had enough. I tried to deal, to talk to the man, but he hurt me. Beat me and threatened me.
When the police came I was a shell. But in my sanctuary again failed. Again. No help, no hope just judgement and shame.
Nothing was done. People lie. All the time. But there were supposed to help.
This is all true, now I go away to release my demons. All alone. Again.