My Bloggy Wog

I took a walk today for the first time in a long time and I felt like a good person.

For the majority of my life, I have felt like a bad person.

I’ve had a HUGE sense of guilt.

As a child, I had a bitch of a Head Mistress who used to threaten to cut my hair off if I didn’t stop playing with it. She used to tell us that our conscience was a prickly ball inside our stomach and if we lied or did something wrong, we would feel sick. To this day, if the phone rings to loudly, if I am rushed or asked questions when I am working, I feel this sharp tinge inside me and I have a minor panic attack. I yell at my boyfriend; swear at him; use the most obscene language. I swear at him until he can’t take it any more and walks out of the front door.

I feel so angry I cannot control myself. 

I have never hurt anyone or anything.

I take out my anger with my voice. For so long I was humiliated by my mother for being a chatty child and told to be quiet. 

I want to clear my head of some of the really terrible things I have said and done.

Some of them would shock anyone and there is only one person I’ve been able to tell my worst deed to. But, I want to say these things and get them out in the open. I want to get them the fuck out of my head and move on.

                                      I have told some terrible lies. 

I have some famous relatives in my family and I always felt the need to be a high achiever. My mother was incredibly pushy and my father less so. 

My Grandma was in the circus so I would say I was a traveller and lived in a Caravan when I was seven. This is entirely innocent, I understand.

When I was 9, I was in the playing field during break and desperately needed the toilet. I had a profound case of diarrhoea  and knew I couldn’t wait for permission from a teacher to enter the school building. We had prefects in those days and we weren’t even allowed to use the toilet without the teachers permission. 

I entered the school and said the teacher had given me permission to use the toilet. I ran past the Prefects table before they could object and to the toilet. Upon leaving the toilet, the teacher was there and asked me why I had used the toilet without permission. I was so embarrassed I lied and insisted I had been given permission by someone. 

My name was written in the Prefects book which was always handed to the Head Mistress at the end of the day.

The following day at school, the Head Mistress came into the classroom and humiliated me in front of everyone; 

“Emily is a liar. Emily, did you have permission to use the toilet yesterday?”

“Yes! Somebody in the field said I could go”.

“I have asked all the teachers Emily and none have said they gave you permission”.

“Maybe it was someone else? I was so desperate… I might have asked someone walking their dog?”

And so it went on. She shouted at me. Humiliated the HELL out of me and called my mother into the school for a meeting. 

I would NOT back down and tell the truth because I was scared. I was too scared to admit what had really happened. 

Since that incident, whenever I was on greenhouse duty - watering the schools plants - Mrs Brumfield (for this was the head teachers name) would not believe I had permission to be doing this and would come up behind me and say something cruel to me. 

I was really scared of her. 

I once pissed my pants in her presence; she scared me that much. 

I had two more years at that school and the guilt I felt for lying didn’t go away until I was 14 and things had progressed to a whole new level…

I gagged twice writing this.