Alan's Mental Health: Don't Eat The Tins


"I'm sorry for being hungry. I didn't mean to be. I just wanted something to eat."

If you're a new visitor to the blog, or to the Alan's Mental Health feature, take some time to read this introductory post. It explains a bit of the background behind the posts.

This post contains some strong language and descriptions of violence which, whilst not overly graphic, may trigger some readers.

One morning I'd woken up very early. I was hungry, so I went to the kitchen to get something to eat. I'd opened up a couple of tins and had something to eat out of each of them. I can't remember what was in the tins. I put them back in the fridge because I knew that opened food needed to be kept refrigerated, and there he was. Standing right behind me watching everything I was doing. He was never particularly graceful or light on his feet, but somehow he'd managed to sneak downstairs and creep into the kitchen without me hearing him... This is what followed:

Him: "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Me: "......."

Him: "WELL?! DON'T JUST FUCKING WELL STAND THERE! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"

Me: "......."

Him: "DON'T OPEN THINGS THAT DON'T FUCKING BELONG TO YOU!"

I started crying. He hit me hard, on my side, right across my ribs. I screamed. He hit me again. I wet myself.

Him: "NOW LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Me: "I'm sorry... I was hungry..."

Him: "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT! YOU'LL EAT WHEN I SAY!"

He went to hit me again, but I moved and he missed. I ran as fast as I could, out of the kitchen, through the living room and towards the stairs. He chased me. He grabbed me as I started up the stairs. I fell, going face first into the tread. I kicked at him and manage to break free. I ran into my room, slammed the door behind me and wedged myself between the bed and the wall so he couldn't get in.

Him: "YOU CAN STAY IN THERE UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN COME OUT!"

Me: "I'm sorry for being hungry. I didn't mean to be. I just wanted something to eat."

I remember the door flying open - him easily pushing me out of the way. My head banged against the side of my bed. After that... Nothing - I have no idea what happened next. I don't remember a damn thing.

* The photo is an older one than the events described in this post. I haven't got any photos of me from this time period. It's not relevant to the post.

If you feel you need immediate help with your mental health, then contact one of the organisations below (click the logo for their website):
Samaritans (UK)

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (USA)

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