Sue's Story

I was adopted as a child and I guess you’d say that things for me as a child were fairly normal until until I reached the age of 12. At that point, my adoptive father started sexually abusing me.

When I was 14, my adoptive mother left home, which made it a much more difficult position for me, because I was left on my own with him – I had no brothers or sisters. Whereas the abuse had been covert before, when my mum left, it became much worse. He could do what he wanted, all the time.

From that point on over the next few years I ran away on numerous occasions. We lived near London, and I would spend days at a time on the streets, sleeping rough at night. As difficult as it was, it was better than being at home; after my mum left, my dad used to involve other people in the abuse. But I would always end up going back. After all, he was my dad and I kept hoping it wouldn’t happen again.

I wasn’t attending school regularly by that stage, so I had a social worker and various other people involved with my care. I eventually told a teacher about what was happening, who alerted social services and the police. Everyone in the family was interviewed, and I went through a harrowing interview myself, but ultimately, the police believed my father and so the case never came to trial, and the situation continued at home as before. I was in a bad way and by this stage had started to self harm, cutting or poisoning myself regularly when I felt bad, as a way of coping with the thoughts inside my head.

I can’t remember at exactly what stage of the experience I contacted Samaritans, but first became aware of the service when I saw a poster in a phone box in my neighbourhood, saying it was available at any time of the day or night. I didn’t know anything about what they did, I just felt desperate. I left the house in the middle of the night and went to the phone box.

When I first rang, I couldn’t speak straight away so I rang back a few times. I found it really hard to make a decision about whether or not I could speak to the person at the other end of the phone – about whether their voice sounded like they’d be able to help me, so each time I hung up without saying anything. When I eventually did manage to get a few words out, the volunteer offered to phone me back as I didn’t have the money to keep calling.

It took me ages to get to a point where I was doing anything more than sobbing and saying how awful I felt. But even that in itself was a connection, and helpful to my state of mind. I remember them asking me whether I minded if they wrote down the details of the conversation, so that if I phoned back, others would know what the situation was, and I remember that this terrified me.

When you’re in a situation like that, you have no idea whether Samaritans will tell anyone about what you’ve told them. I was frightened, and it was only the fact that I kept ringing and no one seemed to know what I’d been saying that gave me confidence, after a couple of months, that I could trust them. At this point I began to feel supported in the real sense. Rather than self harming, I was able to talk about what was going on. The volunteers at the end of the phone were people that cared about me when I didn’t think that anyone else did.

After I’d contacted Samaritans a few times at home, I began to drop into the branch as well as phone them for support because it was easier than calling. Once when I was 15, I was on the streets again and I felt in a particularly bad way. I phoned the central London branch of Samaritans and spoke to a lovely volunteer called Pam. I was in a bad state when I spoke to her – I was very suicidal and I had been self harming to the extent that I was covered in blood. I didn’t know her, but there was a warmth about her voice that made me feel like I could relate to her, even in short time we’d spoken on the phone. I felt that she was genuine in what she was saying.

Pam encouraged me to come into the branch, which at that time, was in High Street Kensington. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it all the way from central London, where I was when I called. Although I was sceptical about Samaritans helping me because I felt so low, I thought I should give it a go, and if I don’t like it, I can leave. As I walked there, I thought I might go under a bus, and I couldn’t really understand why I was giving it the chance, because there was so little point to anything. But I did. I think that if I hadn’t, although it sounds dramatic, I wouldn’t be here now.

So there was quite a lot of silence, but Pam put me under no pressure to talk and for the first time in ages, I began to feel safe.

When I arrived at the branch and saw Pam, she didn’t react at all to my physical state, which was amazing given the amount of blood I had on me. She was very gentle and kind, giving me the space and time to collect myself. In the time that I was with Pam, I was locked in a personal battle with my own thoughts, and I found it hard to open up because I was so scared. So there was quite a lot of silence, but Pam put me under no pressure to talk and for the first time in ages, I began to feel safe. I spent hours talking to Pam during that day and subsequently over the next couple of days, as the volunteers let me stay overnight until I was feeling a bit better – something that wouldn’t happen today.

Samaritans was like a safe space. Not only that, but there was someone there who could comfort me and who cared about what I said and thought, even though I had only just met her. I trusted her, and I was able to open up fully. Through listening to me pour out everything about how I felt, and what I’d been through, Pam helped me find the strength to get through it and to go back home again. She gave me hope.

Pam wrote to me when I went back home, and I sent her a letter of thanks. When things were difficult, I would think about the comfort she had been to me, and would look at her letter, and this helped get me through. Over 20 years later, I still have the letter today. I spoke to Samaritans several times again when things were difficult, but it was Pam who really stuck in my head – and the face to face service that saved my life. I was a child so I couldn’t ring from home, and the physical presence and acceptance by another human being was a powerful part of what helped get me through.

Overall, Samaritans gave me the reassurance that if things got really bad, there would be someone there that I could talk to – and I knew what to expect from the service. I think that there are probably kids out there who’re being abused at the moment who would benefit from knowing about the face to face service.

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