If I should die before I wake, it's 'cause you took my breath away.

I’ve been neglecting this blog for a long time and I’ve got no one to blame for it but me. I feel like I’ve only been telling you half the truth too - everything I say is true but it’s only half of what I feel and not a lot about the real me.
So I think that maybe I’ll start right from the start.
I wont tell you my real name (the people who really matter know that anyway) but I’ll suffice to say that I am rX, 19 from middle England. A girl who lets her heart go too easily (ending up in heartbreak all too often), with a past full of fucked up family situation, drugs, far too much alcohol, hate, love, attachment to the wrong people. But also hope, amazing friends, fun times and no regrets.
I moved to the town where I live when I was 11 and was told not long afterwards that it is one of the drugs capitals of the UK, when you work our the percentage of users in the town.
I started life in South Africa with an English mum and south African dad. When I was 5 weeks old my father had a bad accident. He was on a push bike and got knocked over by a lorry. The lorry never stopped.
My dad (although wearing a helmet) ended up with a hole in his skull that he could have fit his fist in to, had he been conscious. He’s paralysed down his left side due to major brain damage. When he was through all the surgery he had, he had to start life from scratch. He knew who my mum was but not who I was. At first he behaved towards me like an older brother might - jealous of this new sibling, pushing and shoving this little child who had taken the attention away from himself. He’s grown out of that now, he know who I am and I am the apple of his eye. I’ll always be his little girl no matter what. He know nothing of the person I have become, my mum and I keep him half in the dark to hide him from who I have become. My dad still lives in cape town. My mum and me live here, in England.
My mum went in to a bad depression after my dads accident, a combination of post-natal depression and having to look after not only a newborn but also her husband, the love of her life. All of this and hold a full time job. There’s no benefit system in south Africa.
She couldn’t cope.
They split up when I was young. I’m lucky. I don’t have any memories from when they were together. It was an amiable split, he understood that she couldn’t cope but she’s still the love of his life. And in a way my dad’s still the love of her life too. My dad changed when he had his accident, he’s not the man he was before so in a way my real dad has gone forever. That’s what my mum always says - the love of her life went forever the moment his head hit the road on that morning in February 1989.
My mum met my step dad when I was 3 and they married when I was 5. Not long after we left SA for England, leaving my dad behind. That’s something I didn’t forgive mum for, for a long time.
A lot happened between now and then. I wont go in to detail. I’ll just say that I moved from the UK to Qatar when I was 6, moved back to the UK when I was 9. We moved here when I was 11. My mum divorced my step dad when I was 16 and not long after she met her current man. He’s a bit of a twat.
When I was 17, I got kicked out of my mums house and moved in with a friend (Bestest) for a little over a month, until my mum let me move back in to her house. 4 weeks later I discovered I was pregnant and had an abortion. The only thing I have ever regretted. I left home again, opting for a shared house in the nearest city, lost my job, fell in love, started a university course, moved in to a flat with Bestest. Had an argument with my love, went on the rebound with a married man. Got glassed by his wife. Tried to kill myself. Made up with my love.
He’s in the navy, was in the middle east at the time. The day after he came home, we argued and haven’t spoken since.
It cuts me to the core to this day.
So, there’s a brief history of my life.
I like to write this blog late at night. I tend to sit in our living room in my pj’s - hot pants and a t-shirt. Normally there is a glass of red by my side. Face stripped bare of make-up.
I drink too much and take too many drugs but that’s my choice isn’t it? The direction of my life chops and changes quite a lot but at the end of the day, no one ever knows exactly what they’ll be doing with themselves in a years time. No one. So I like to live my life as well as I can, take each day as it comes and take everything in my stride.
After all, who knows what I could be doing tomorrow?