Things that stay with you.

Being 8 and watching the man fit our double glazing. He let me follow him for hours, was patient and showed me what he was doing, seemed pleased I was interested.

He then turned to me and told me how fucking ugly I was, never told my Mum and I die a little inside each time I remember that. I tell my DS everyday how beautiful he is

I don't really know what to say. Thank you for sharing all of you, you have really made me think hard. I hadn't really considered that throwaway comments like 'you're so annoying!' might be taken on board by the DC - the things I say from now on will be more carefully considered.

Also, I sometimes want to tell strangers I like their hair etc but daren't as I don't want them to think I'm a weirdo. So what? I think I will from now on.

I have also realised I am incredibly blessed and should be thankful every second of every day. Sending love to all of you, genuine thanks for sharing I realise some of it can't have been easy.

I should add that they thought I'd commit suicide, not that I'd kill my brother! That read a little ambiguously haha

Being told by my cousin that my brother had committed suicide. Years later being told by an old friend that everyone who knew us both was surprised he'd done it because they thought it would've been me.

A positive one, my old art teacher, apropos of nothing, told me that my smile positively lit up the room.

Being a victim of attempted murder. I don't talk about that one much, similarly with some awful experiences I had in an (unrelated) abusive relationship.

Getting lost near an ex's house when he wasn't home and I went a wander because I was bored thinking I'd find my way back, and ending up having to knock on a stranger's door in the pissing rain to ask for help. The couple who took me in, gave me a coffee and drove me back to the ex's house (who was by this time thankfully home) were absolutely lovely and I still wish I'd made note of their address so I could've sent them a bunch of flowers or something.

Will probably return to this thread with more at some point.

I was about 21 and sitting and having a chat with my dad.

He said 'You see, men want to feel needed, you don't need anyone'

He was (is) so right. I was shocked at how well he knew me. Twenty years later I have had LTRs but am so much happier single.

The postsecret that says "I only love two of my children". I hadn't realised motherly love wasn't unconditional.

The thought of my sister being dropped by social services at my dad's house in her pyjamas having been locked in a cell overnight. Finding out my mum had chucked her out.

Numerous bullying things at school, too small on their own to recount but as a whole they chipped away at me until I had no shell of self-confidence left. Slowly getting there.

I've just remembered a happier one.

I am very close to my df, but he's rubbish at showing affection. If I tell him I love him he gets all gruff and changes the subject.

I had a long and difficult labour with dd, and when he walked in the room afterwards as I was holding her he burst into tears and enveloped us a massive hug. He wouldn't let bloody go either.

I think thats when I understood just how difficult the labour had been. (EMCS in the end)

A few years ago my PIL came to dinner, FIL told me about a horror film his friend at work had told him about that sounded really gory and scary. DH and I quite like a good scary film but I had never heard of it before. He told me the name so I could google it. Turns out the film is an actual snuff movie, and the website that I was taken too showed a picture of a man who had committed suicide with a shotgun to the head. I will never get that image out of my head. I didn't even know this man or his story but the idea that he is there for all to see online in the culmination of his pain makes me really sad.

Also at 24, I had never had a close death in the family until my DH's grandad died. We went to see him in the chapel of rest and I touched his forehead. I'd never seen a dead person before and couldn't believe how cold he was. The palm of my hand felt cold for days.

My story isn't so sad or tragic like some posters here but when I was born my parents were very young and clueless and my Mum was a student at a university so parents and family would help them out. My father's older sister, who has never had children but loved them kind of adopted me. That wouldn't be so bad if she knew where to stop. She didn't see herself as my Aunt but an adoptive mother, even though my Mum was perfectly capable of taking care of me. Two other children followed but I was still her "almost" daughter and because she didn't like my Mum, I was stuck between them.
My Mum would never praise me even though I craved her praise and attention. From all her comments on how I run to my Aunt every time there's a problem what stuck with me most was when I was about 20 and asked why she never praises me even though I managed to finish my secondary school with all As and started at a university. "You have your Aunt to praise you, I'm there to tell you what you are doing wrong." was her answer. I remember exploding in her face and telling her that she's my mother and not my Aunt and I shouldn't be blamed for her never been able to tell my father's family to go and fuck themselves when they tried to pretend that they only have one Grandchild and that's me.
Our relationship largely improved since then but I will always remember that comment. It symbolised everything I hated about my childhood, the feeling that I was a bait between two parties who intensely disliked each other and couldn't sort out their issues in an adult way.

Oh mycats. My heart breaks for you. I so hope you have found happiness in your life. I too lost a parent to suicide. It still hurts so much.

Oh Mycats that is heart breaking.
for you and your 6 YO self!

Finally getting hold of the paperwork involving my parents death and my subsequent adoption aged 6.

Reading the police interview taken from me and their description of that day. The interview includes me talking about how good I am at reading, what books I love to read and that I definitely could read the suicide note my dad had left on the wall telling me to go to my aunts house and that he loved me.

I cried and cried for my 6 year old self.

A few years ago I had a particularly bad experience in hospital, which left me with a colostomy. It doesn't bother me, and I don't really care if anyone knows about it or not. But I did ask DP if he had told his family about it (Hospital was before I met him) and he said no because it was my business. I asked him again more recently, if he'd told them and he said he had, as his mum has issues which may mean that she'd need one, and that they asked him how I coped with it. He said, it doesn't affect her at all, she's really brave about the whole thing.

The other thing that has stuck with me was my dad calling me after ds was born 11 years ago to tell me he was proud of me.

Somethingtosay. That makes me so sad. I want to hug this boy. I hope you see him again and can tell him you care. People do care for him.

This is such an emotional thread. Mine is a happy one. I was 7 and my sister was 9 when my mum and step dad told us my mum was pregnant. We were all in the bathroom waiting for mine and dsis's bath to run and we just started smiling and jumping up and down. In the end we were all laughing and smiling and even the dog was jumping up and down. It was such a perfect happy family moment.

Aww sorry to hear that bumps. Xxx

Mine turns the thread happy again.

I few years ago, I went camping alone to get over a heartbreak. I went to a hippy place and there were a few old travelling crew there. I set up my tent, nice and hot, blanket out. Two boys playing football, I watched them. Slowly they made their way over to speak to me, one boy with mum and dad living on a boat, one from a car background with his dad and girlfriend on the other boat.

The kid with both mum and dad there went back to his boat for tea, and the other kid hung around. Over the few days I got to know him and he said his dad had been really violent to his mum, he'd seen it. His mum didn't ever leave the house so he had only ever had takeaway food. He had his dad's jeans on, mans jeans, far too long. No jumper. No dinner.

His dad and girlfriend tried to befriend me, but I wouldn't have it. The kid was my friend, they were not taking care of him.

One night he came and flumped down on my blanket, clearly upset. He'd been laughed at in his mates boat for eating all of the nuts they'd got out because he was hungry. He was gazing at my vegetable soup, vegetable soup, a twelve year old boy!!!! So obv I heated it up for him. I comforted him, o took him up to his boat where his dad had done potatoes and beans, and he came back later. The next day we were talking as I packed, I asked him can he go back into care, where is his school etc, but he will float around the system not doing well I should think. I gave him my wooden jumper and a pair of thick socks. He said 'who would want me?' When I asked about going back into care, and I said 'me'.

And I have remembered him ever since. I would have wanted him.

So I went back to that campsite this weekend, and who do I bump into but his dad and a different girlfriend. Not recognising them, I asked about this kid only to find out that he was around and about! I didn't leave my number but I did ask them to pass on the message from the lady years ago, that I've never forgotten him and how is he. I shall go back later this summer and if possible, try and take this kid under my wing a bit.

Mine is "Darling, Mummy's baby died" - said by Mum of my stillborn brother. I was 4 and was taken by gran to visit in her private room in the hospital, she was in bed and my dad and other family were gathered around it. I went through the door and that's what she said, and everyone including me started crying.

I don't remember much after that but that scene is etched on my my memory forever. My poor mum what an awful thing to have to go through.

Love me when I deserve it the least, that's when I need it the most!

This has been such a sad, poignant touching thread.

It has actually made me stop and think.
For the last few days I am making more of an effort to be lovely to my dcs, be fun, tell them they are beautiful, that I love them etc.

My baby daughter was stillborn a few years ago. As you can imagine life was tough for a while afterwards. I was suddenly thrust I to a different world. That of bereaved parent. I joined the bereavement board here at MN. Having told my story, I had so many lovely posters say the most heartwarming things, but the one thing that has stayed with me and I still use all the time was posted by Shabbs 'One foot in front of the other and don't forget to breathe'.
Thank you Shabbs it has very much become my mantra.

I have teared up reading so many of the posts here. Sorry that the comments/actions of thoughtless people, often those who should love us unconditionally- have caused so much long term pain

I have several anecdotes I could post but they're not happy ones so I've decided that I'm going to try to lessen their importance by coming back later with the positive ones that often get pushed aside.

I've also copied that incredible post Noodle, thank you

Noodleatingpoodle - thank you. I've copied and kept that

There's a visualisation / mindfulness exercise that I was introduced to once, which might be useful for anyone who has had horrible, hurtful things said about them by others. You might want to try it if you're into that kind of thing. I'm not, typically, but I did this one with a couple of hurtful childhood things in mind, and found it quite helpful. I searched for a link to the exercise and came up empty, so I'll describe it as best I can.

Imagine yourself at the age you were when these things were said to you, at the start of a long walk. The person who said these things hands a heavy stone to you, which represents the weight of their words that you'll carry along with you. The weight is uncomfortable and the stone affects the way you carry yourself and the pace you can walk at, and it partially obscures the view of the beauty around you. The person says that the stone is yours to carry, then they leave. You carry the unweildy stone with you as you begin the walk toward your current life.

After a while, you come to a gate marked "trustworthiness". As you walk through the gate, you stop and consider the source of the sentiment represented by the weight of the stone. You consider:

• was the person who said the hurtful thing someone whose judgment, views, treatment of others, all point to being a decent and trustworthy arbiter of what has value or doesn't, what's good and what's bad, and whether you should carry this stone? Someone whose opinion you respect on all sorts of subjects, and who you can trust to have your interests at heart? If the answer is 'no', then the weight of this sentiment is not worth carrying. Why carry with you the opinion of someone whose opinions you don't value? Why follow the instruction of a person you don't trust? Put the stone down and walk through the gate, locking it behind you. Keep walking. If you've put the stone down, feel the lightness in your arms and enjoy swinging them by your side. Look around and enjoy the unobstructed view around you.

(and don't worry if you're still holding the stone).

As you keep walking, you come to a second gate, marked "knowledge". You ask yourself:

• Did the person who said this thing about you, really know you? You're not asking whether they should have known you, but did they take time (or did you even want them) to understand your thoughts and feelings about things? Ask yourself: would you accept the expert opinion of a brain surgeon as fact, if the subject at hand was not brain surgery but international law? If the person wasn't really an expert on who you are , then their opinion on the subject of you is meaningless. If you're still carrying the stone you can put it down and walk through the gate, locking it behind you. If you left the stone at the last gate but it wouldn't have made it through this one either, lock the gate so that there are now two locked gates between you and the weight of the stone.

Keep walking and come to a third gate, marked "fairness." Ask

• Was it fair for the thing that was said to be directed at you? Or was it misdirected anger, or a symptom of the other person's unwellness or unhappiness, or did you just happen to be the person who was there when someone decided to be cruel?

There's one final gate between you and the next moment, when you finish the exercise and open your eyes. It's marked 'usefulness'. If you're still carrying the stone, you must ask yourself if the sentiment it represents is useful enough to you in your current life to justify carrying its weight around with you. If the answer is no, now is your chance to put it down, before you walk through the final gate and lock it behind you. If you've already left your stone behind locked gates because the sentiment can't be trusted, or it was based on ignorance, or it wasn't fair, then you already know it's not useful, and you should lock the last gate on your way out.

The more you really try to visualise the walk, and the gates, and the locks, and the stone, the more authentic the 'experience' feels, and when you think again of these things that were said, you can recognise them immediately as not true, not fair, not based on knowledge of who you are, and you can 'feel' them not as a weight you have to hold now and forevermore, but something you made the choice to leave behind and walk away from. That's not to say they won't still be the things that 'stay with you' as memories, but just that you might see more clearly that they don't pass the test of being true enough, fair enough, or trustworthy enough to colour your view of yourself now. It works for me.

I know it sounds a bit hokey and I hesitated to post, but decided to in the end just in case it resonates with anyone the way it has with me.

When i got my PhD and lost a lot of weight my (airhead) sister looked at me scornfully and said "Well that's not fair, you're the clever one, I'm the pretty one". Bitch.