The knock on the door

I cannot count the amount of transitions I experienced as a Looked After Child. They blur into one. Patterns remain though, for instance it would often be in the dead of night, after a pit stop at a local McDonalds - a kind of deposit. It does not surprise me the psychological damage inflicted on children as they get passed from pillar to post. The building of and breaking of relationships with not just the people, but the whole environment plants the seed of resentment and confusion. I'm still feeling dizzy and sick.I come from a place where stability of a home was rare, and provision and the focus of education were not a priority. Because of my label LAC (Looked After Child), who was I to achieve, or even dream of social mobility or success?My name is Sam. I'm a Primary School Teacher in Wales.That... is not a normal thing to say.Far from it.The intention of this short book is to reflect upon the key experiences in my life that had a significant impact on my character. Also, how through expression and mental strength, resilience can be cultivated.Life in care has more of an impact on me as a 27 year old than it did when I was actually travelling through it. I am wounded. Scarred and weakened. But strong.Trauma has a funny way of resurfacing and showing it's ugly head. It comes in waves and manifests in ways I don't understand. I wasn't protected from it. Or taught to process it. My Local Authority parent were given an invisible script. Their duty was to protect and safeguard. But they failed.