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I love blogging about all kinds of things ...  

Go to 'catagories' to have a look at some of my blogs on adoption, trauma, pain, disability and some of life's difficulties, where I write about finding hope from the pain and trauma, giving you encouragement and information to move on yourself and grow your own soul just a little bit more x

Kizzy

8/1/2017

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Yesterday I briefly posted a little about my name 'Kizzy' and where it came from. I had a great deal of feedback from people who had seen the TV programme and had often wondered about my name. I told a brief story of how I came to be, but maybe its time to write a little more, for anyone really interested. 

When I was a little girl I was abused by my adoptive mother. I believe my adoptive father was a sexual devient too.

My adoptive mother (AD to save me writing her over and over again) was very jealous of me. She hated the fact that my adoptive father loved me... used to dress me like a boy, haircuts like a boy, desexualise me and basically screwed me up. She used to put me in burning baths, hit me with a yellow hot wheel track, frighten and scare me. She touched me, looked and laughed and pointed at me naked, saying I would never be a woman, no man would ever want me and that I would never be a wife. She also instigated a sexual abuse by a man I saw every day as a young teen. In fact, just by the very nature of what she did, she instigated everyting that happened for many years afterwards. 

She was a total control freak. I was brought up in a church surroundings, insulated by only going to church functions and having church friends. I am still a Christian, but thats another story .... 

I was not allowed to go to other peoples houses.... I would know my life wasnt normal then. When I hear of other people growing up as children within other sects and cult movements like Jehovah Witness', I can see the similarities of my life,  brought up in, what to the outside world is a normal good Christian household! 

I self harmed from an early age. I used to bang my head on a wall in secret, burn my hands on the hottest radiators I could find and turn my pain inside. If I cried she would know because I got a blotchy face. I had to find a way to let my pain out without crying. Many times I used to cry into my pillows, silently sobbing and having to wait until my face had died down... but she always knew. 'What do you have to cry about?'. I always paid for crying ..... was a Cinderalla ... clean the pubes out of my fathers shower, clean the vile toilet he shat in, wash HIS pubes off the shower room floor (he had his own shower room).... 

I used to curl up and take myself away into Kizzy's world.... the world of a little girl who (once her Grandmother died) had no-one. She was an oddball at school (like me as I didnt understand the world around me and how it functioned), didnt know how to play (never played as a child just cleaned and read and allowed to watch Newsround, Blue Peter and the Sunday afternoon drama), didnt understand relationships, didnt understand love, didnt understand parenting ... just the need to survive. Little Kizzy The Diddakoi ended up finding she had a birth family. I wanted that so much, but as you will see in my previous blogs, that wasnt to work out for me. Little Kizzy The Diddakoi was so happy when she found her place in the world, which was actually her own miniture wagon in a beautiful garden surrounded by her own things. I took myself into that wagon...took myself into that space where nobody bothered me, where I was allowed to 'be'. Kizzy saved my soul. She kept it safe from harm as my soul lived in hers for a long time. 

As I got older my self harm became severe and I cut my body badly. It was my addiction. It is why I now support others who have addictions to alcohol, drugs, eating disorders and other addictions....I get it. Mine was very much an addiction that affected nobody else, unless I chose to inflict it on others, which I shamefully have to admit I did once or twice in pure anger. I remember once standing in front of my first husband in rage at his alcoholism, asking why he took it out on me (hitting me) and showing him, by physically cutting up my body in front of him, in his drunken stupour, and smearing blood on him, that I too could affect him by my addiction! A dreadful thing to do I know.... and in fact, didnt affect him one bit as he was too drunk! 

It was after this marriage that I changed my name. I took my'self' back. I had been given a birth name 'Tamsin Dawn' and my adoptive name (which I never speak of anymore as I was named after some porn bit my adoptive father used to collect pictures of from magazines) and it was time to take on my own name. I had a dreadful mental breakdown ending up in a mental hospital for 10 weeks and a therapeutic community for 2 years. When I was 'sorted', the phsychologists finally giving up trying to convince me that my father had sexually abused me when I knew HE hadnt, I had a 're-naming' party at the pub! I gave my close friends a copy of this book to show them where my name had come from, and changed my legal name to Kiz. I have had many surnames, too, birth, adoptive, married .... and after the ending of my second marriage last year I am ready to give myself a new legal surname too. 

I have loved being Kiz Angell (my second marriage surname). I always laugh with my friends that I am not a perfect angel as I have two ll's at the end of my name instead of one, until this week one of the homless guys at the project I work in said I had two ll's because I have two sets of angel wings! How lovely!!!! 

Anyway, I have loved being an 'angel' but now, perhaps, it is time to become Lovell, Kizzy the Diddakoi surname. I can now be 'love' with a double set of angell wings!!! .... has to be as good as being an angel, doesn't it xxxx  Thank you for listening. Kizzy Lovell xxx
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