My childhood was pretty bad, and I grew up not knowing love.
My mum and dad divorced when I was young and both parents remarried,
as soon as my mum married my step dad I wasn't allowed to see my real dad again
or anyone in his family.
My mum has always been a heavy drinker, for as long as I can remember, and my step dad was violent, he would hit me and my brother and beat up my mum. It became the norm in our house, mum would get drunk, dad would get annoyed and beat her up, they were always arguing we heard it most nights.
 
At school I remember being the class clown, getting in trouble and just being annoying, not for any other reason except I wanted to be noticed. In all my life I have never been told by my mum or dad or anyone else in my family that I am loved, I have never had a hug, I have never been shown any emotion other than violence. Me and my brother just had each other, and we needed each other, it was hard for us, but for us it was 'normal' and we learned to cope with it.
All I wanted was to be noticed, and even though I had many friends I was lonely. By the time I got to leek high I couldn't cope any more I'd had enough, I started drinking and smoking, and was out all hours because I didn't want to go home. I remember sitting in my room one night and I just thought "I cant cope any more" I was hurting so much and feeling so alone.

I didn't know what to do, and I began to cut myself... At first it felt good because the pain moved from within to my arms but then it didn't help at all and I was cutting myself all the time. When my mum found out she kicked me out again!( my mums answer to everything was to kick us out-this happened at least once a week) and I went to my friends house until dad came and got me the next day and dragged me home. I went home and started to do it again but went from my arms to hidden places, I did that for years, I was falling behind with my schoolwork ( when you are constantly told you are thick and stupid you start believing it, and I just couldn't be bothered any more, because people saw me as a failure so I may as well prove them right I thought.
That phrase "sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me" is a load of rubbish, because words wound, and I began to give up on everything.

One Sunday I was sitting in the arcade in leek, it was  a place where everyone went, and suddenly from no where I had this urge to go to church ( if you knew me you'd know there was no way you would get me in a church). I asked my friend to go with me, with the sole plan to get kicked out ( I had never been kicked out of a church before and once I get something into my head I have to do it ) so we both went, I had it all worked out what I was going to do but as soon as I walked in the building a peace came over me, we sat down and my mate was laughing and sniggering and I couldn't do it! After the meeting people came up to me to shake my hand and they were nice to me ( no one was ever nice to me unless they wanted something) and we left.

Over the next few days I couldn't get church out of my head, it was thrashing my head and I had to go back, from the moment I started going to church for the first time in my life I felt accepted, I felt valued, I felt at home, people were friends with me because they wanted to be I didn't have to be stupid, I was just me.

Eventually I wanted  to know God for myself and on March 14th 1993 I became a Christian, that same year in November I was baptised, and I have never looked back.
My family hasn't changed, mum and dad are still the same, but I've changed I am not the person I was, God has healed me from my depression and I am now beginning to realise how much God loves me.

That's my story and I hope you come to know this God for yourself personally!

Love Dona xx