December | 2020 | Toula Mavridou-Messer

About the author:

Toula Mavridou-Messer has worked in the media/entertainment all of her life, starting at the tender age of 15 when she and her then best friend (Jane Goldman), submitted an interview that they had done with a group of clubland’s glitterati to Gay News Magazine. It was accepted and by the end of that day, they had also been given the regular gossip column to write, along with other features.

Toula went on to write freelance articles for various other publications until she became a publicist for various high profile entertainment names, including George Michael, Dame Shirley Bassey and Eric Clapton – after working as a trainee manager and stylist to the boy band Bros.

Some years later, Toula segued into television production and ultimately worked on shows which included: The Golden Globe Awards, American Music Awards and People’s Choice Awards.

Her celebrity contacts the world over made her a valuable asset to many big-name charities (including Save The Children, The Prince’s Trust, CARE International), where Toula brought on various big names, such as George Clooney, Angelina Jolie and Meryl Streep to be involved with specific campaigns. In fact, it was Toula who introduced George and Amal Clooney to the Royal Family, after inviting them to attend an event at Buckingham Palace, hosted by HRH The Prince of Wales.

However, Toula’s credentials for writing a self-improvement book don’t stop there.

Toula grew up in foster care from the age of 6 weeks.

From the age of 5-20, she was a victim of physical/mental and sexual abuse and took part in the Independent Inquiry into Childhood Sexual Abuse.

At the age of 34, Toula was officially diagnosed by a leading forensic psychiatrist with severe c-PTSD – not uncommon in people who have experienced similar – and was told that, “most people who have been through what you’ve been through would not have survived.”

It was a moment of pure terror, realising just how serious her circumstances were and how fortunate she was to be able to function at all. Toula credits gratitude with getting her through the difficulties and keeping her on track, along with a specialised trauma therapy called EMDR – which is extremely hard to access via the NHS, so Toula has only benefitted from a handful of sessions some years ago.

Since 2015, Toula and her husband James gave up their LA lifestyle and moved back home to London to care for her elderly mother who suffers from vascular dementia and Alzheimer’s Disease, which has been the toughest experience of her life thus far.

*Disclaimer:

Attitude of Gratitude: 30-Day Workbook to Improve Your Life and Outlook is not intended as a substitute for the medical advice of physicians or mental health professionals or any required treatment. The reader should regularly consult a physician or mental health professional in matters relating to his/her health, and particularly with respect to any symptoms that may require diagnosis, medical attention or therapy.

Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure that the information in this book was correct at the time of going to press, the author and publisher do not assume and hereby disclaim any liability to any party for any loss, damage or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident or any other cause.

Today is an anniversary that almost passed me by.

An anniversary that does not deserve a celebration, but purely a notation in the margin of my life to acknowledge its ugly existence.

Six years ago today, I saw my mother for the first time in a number of years. She has dementia/Alzheimer’s and her repugnant paedophile husband had forbidden us from seeing her – because he could.

Six years ago today, he died and thus started seven(more) years of hell (beyond description) that I have endured, only because I desperately needed to have a mother.

Albeit, a mother who is demented.

My life had started with her placing me into foster care at the age of 6 weeks. I am not going to make a judgement about it – just that it obviously has had life long consequences for me that have formed who I am, how I behave and what I do.

At the age of almost 10, (a week before my 10th birthday and Christmas – so, pretty much around this exact date), my mother took me back from my foster family, aka my family, to live with her and her paedophile boyfriend.

My lost family members’ names were not to be mentioned, nor was the fact that literally in the space of a split second I lost everything and everyone I had ever known. I, an almost 10 year old, was to go on as if everything was ‘normal.’

I was an almost 10 year old with absolutely no concept of ‘normal,’ as my normal is not something that should ever be inflicted on any child. Ever. Yet, I knew nothing else.

My vision of normality was borne from books and television shows, like The Waltons and Little House on the Prairie. Perhaps my desire to live in the US also stems from these surrogate families, as I try to satisfy the gnawing emptiness where connection would have existed.

My heart soars and fills hungrily with visions of mountains, open lands and enormous skies and yet the infinite pain that reverberates within every cell of my being is never assuaged, despite the neverending efforts I make to find the comfort that is missing.

It’s impossible to create a parental attachment when there has been none. Those of you who developed one naturally, through being parented, will have absolutely no concept of what it means to not be ‘attached.’

It’s about a fundamental sense of safety, of being held up in the world by those you love and who love you, with a sense of trust that if you fall someone will catch you. It’s that feeling of rushing ‘home’ to tell someone your good news, knowing it will be celebrated however large or small, or knowing that when you fall apart, someone will always comfort you and tell you that everything will be okay…and knowing that in time, it really will be okay.

I don’t have that. Not at all, now or ever. Not even a miniscule amount of that because I wasn’t held up in the world by anyone. I was held down; figuratively and physically.

I rushed away from home because I never had one. To this day I have no attachment to a home. I live in a property – it has 4 walls – and it does not imbue a sense of safety or comfort. Whilst living there, I chase a dream of living elsewhere and spend every single penny I have and often do not have, in order to keep the dream alive and whilst doing all of that I worry that if and when I follow that dream, what will happen when I still do not feel any sense of ‘home.’ Still feel no sense of attachment.

I am always in the midst of freefalling.

Have you ever lost someone close to you – like a mother, a brother, a grandmother, a pet, a best friend, a life…?

If you have, you will know just how incredibly painful it is and that the pain and the ‘fall-out’ lasts a lifetime. It’s an all-consuming emotional pain that makes your heart, mind and body ache in such a way that there is no easement of the sensations that make you wonder if you are going mad.

For those of you who have lost someone fundamental to your existence, you will also know that internalising the reality and surging emotions of that loss is not a good thing.

Just imagine a 10 year old who is being sexually abused by her mother’s paedophile boyfriend and then being beaten by her mother when she calls for help, sitting alone in an unfurnished/uncarpeted bedroom with only a bed, trying not to succumb to the horror of the loss of her entire life and support system – everything and everyone she knows – whilst also dealing with the abuse. All without being able to utter a word about it.

That was me 42 years ago today.

Fast forward to that same 10 year old little girl now that she is 52, almost 53 who for the past 6 years (from today), has put her life on hold to care for this same mother, who was completely unavailable to her.

This 52, almost 53 year old little girl who went above and beyond to show that she was lovable, good and kind; who worked so hard, achieved all As, worked in notable jobs, created her own successful businesses, was written up in the press, published her own books…even brought the governments ‘guidance’ about introducing CV19+ patients into care homes to the attention of the public, appearing on the national news twice, placing stories in the national press and enlisting Piers Morgan’s help in confronting Matt Hancock about the policy…all to make her mother’s life better and to save it – who has now been rejected by the same mother yet again, unknowingly, perhaps.

I just posted this on social media, “It’s been getting more and more apparent over this horrendous year that because we have been unable to see Mum as frequently as we would normally (to put it mildly), her attachment to me has moved to her main carer who she sees all day every day. We just tried to Skype and Mum although smiley initially, is no longer particularly interested in connecting with us anymore. Those of you who have experience of a relative with dementia will probably understand this to some extent…but we were hoping for a few more years of emotional closeness, the loss of which has been accelerated due to government guidelines and mass incarceration. It will take me a while to come to terms with this situation – I think the word I am looking for is ‘grieve.’ It seems that although Mum is still physically with us, she has lost interest and has moved on from us… Sadly, not the first time in my life that she has done this.”

For it to have been cemented hypothetically on the exact same date as our reunion 6 years ago feels like the Universe is sending me a message.

As yet, I am unable to decode the message. I am too busy reeling with the loss of my mother, yet again.

Please do remember those memes that states – be kind, you never know what someone is going through – because it’s true.

It is also important to add that sometimes the people around you might behave in ways that seem alien to you, or they might say things that upset or offend you – namely me.

I don’t see or experience life in the way that you do. Our reference points are so far apart that even Elon Musk’s Hyper-Loop won’t be able to connect them.

Oftentimes, I hear people telling me their ‘news’ and I have to flip through a whole load of learned responses in order to give one that appears to be appropriate. Sometimes, it might not be. If I have done that to you – please accept my sincere apologies.

I am doing my best and when I know better, I will do better.

Surviving this life is taking all of the resources I have.

Right now, I have an anniversary to contemplate.

An anniversary that does not deserve a celebration, but purely a notation in the margin of my life to acknowledge its ugly existence.

For more blog posts about this topic, start here: https://toulamavridoumesser.wordpress.com/2016/02/29/only-dead-on-the-inside/

Toula Mavridou-Messer

Author & Photographer

Month: December 2020

#1 ‘Happiness’ and ‘Motivational Self Help’ Amazon bestseller: ‘Attitude of Gratitude’

About the author:

An Anniversary Not Worth Celebrating