I have no memories of living with my mother as a small child. I can remember a few things her parents were involved in, like taking me to Kindergarten and picking me up afterwards, or following my grandmother around while she talked to her friend on the phone, asking her where my mom was at age 3 or 4 years old. I do remember flashes of the day my mother handed me over to my father, though. I remember there were cops, and one of them asked me if I'd like to go stay with my daddy for a while and I said yes. I found out later from my father that my mother couldn't even be bothered to show up to court for the official ruling...and I didn't see her for almost 3 years after that....I was 5 years old and my life went from living with my mother's parents to living with my father, his wife, and my father's parents, and that was quite a culture shock! The two households were different as oil and water...and like those examples mixing them was impossible. My dad's parents always looked down their nose at my mom's parents because they "made more money" than they did. My mom's parents always looked down their nose at my dad's parents because of the way they lived. And here I was, age 5-18, in the middle.
Oh and my mom? As I said it was 2 or 3 years before I saw her again...I ran into her one Halloween when my dad was taking me trick or treating. She had a baby with her. I do not know to this day if that was my 1st half sister, or my 2nd...she gave the first one up for adoption. The next time was for my 8th birthday. She just showed up, and she had my sister, Carla, with her. She was staying with her parents again, and I truly believe she only came because they would have given her the riot act if she hadn't. The next time I saw either of them, my sister was 2 years old and had been molested by her own father (whom she'd married), and his best friend...the person she was with when I was removed from her care in fact. Now I did get letters from time to time, and maybe an occasional phone call, so it's not to say that she completely exited my life...but letters and phone calls weren't enough for me. She was staying with her parents again for the time being, but was getting her own place soon. And she did....and moved a guy right in with her. 2 years later they were married. I was seeing my mom more often by this point...and she had me fooled. I called her sometimes 2 or 3 times a day. I told her everything. When I was 17 and found myself pregnant, she was the first person I told. When I ran away from home after a fight with my dad's mother, I came to her, and again when I was 18 and couldn't take my dad and step mother's drunken fighting any longer. (Fights that you could hear 3 blocks away...fights that had been going on for years....fights that resulted in fists through walls and a 15 year old girl peeing in a bucket in her closet because coming out of the bedroom was not an option.) But in the course of seeing her more frequently, her choices had not been any better. Husband number 3 turned out to be just as bad as husband number 2. When I was 15, he approached me while I was sleeping and whispered in my ear a question...he asked me if I'd like to have sex with him. I went downstairs where my mom and her friend were still up chatting away the night, and told them I just couldn't sleep. Husband number 3 decides to leave me a note on the bed, which my mother found, apologizing for his behavior and begging me not to tell anyone. She let him stay. About a year later, I was awakened from sleeping on the couch downstairs (I would not sleep upstairs where HE was anymore) because someone was touching my leg. Guess who...Husband number 3... but this time I sat up and held a knife to his groin and told him if he even thought of touching me again, he'd be missing something the next morning. When the company he worked for relocated to Louisiana he went with them...but not before making my sister his target since I wasn't easy enough...
When I was 18 and left my dad's home because of the fighting, I stayed with my mom for 3 months. In those 3 months, I partied with my mom...except she partied way harder than I did. 3-5 men came in and out of the apartment in those 3 months...one even invited me to join them...WITH MY BOYFRIEND SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO ME...she was binge drinking like crazy and I was taking care of my then 10 year old sister. I had come to my mom because I needed her, and she'd left me in charge. She even considered giving me the apartment and living with her now current boyfriend (who is only 2 years older than I am). My partying usually consisted of inviting a bunch of my friends over and we'd smoke pot til our eyes were closed...I didn't have the luxury of going out because I had to stay home with my sister...my mother was either too drunk or too stoned or not even home to be bothered. On Christmas Eve, she had the apartment manager come tell me we had to get out. She couldn't even bitch up long enough to tell me herself.
My luck with men hasn't been any better than with my parents, but that's a whole other story for a whole other blog.
So here I am, 37 years old with some serious parental issues. I barely have any respect for any of my parents, my step mother included. Again, that is a subject for another day. There is nothing more scaring, however, for a young girl than to believe for most of your life that your mother DOES NOT WANT YOU. And that's how I have felt most of my life. When she was going through a rough time, I offered to take my sister (I'd already had my oldest child by this time, a place of my own, and she had asked me to take her so many times). My mother's response was not, "I've lost so much time with you, given up your other sister, I can't give up the only one I have left" which would have left me with some respect for her at the very least for TRYING to be a parent to my sister. Instead, it was, "If you take Carla, I won't have any income."
My children are 17 (so close to 18 it's scary), 15, and 13...I've done everything I could possibly think of to ensure them that they are wanted and loved. I hope I've done a good job. I think I have...they're good kids. They've been the only constant thing in my life that hasn't let me down...and I fear that one day they're going to look back at some of the things I did when they were younger and reject me, as I've felt rejected by my mother for most of my life. I've spent so much time just keeping people at bay that I don't even try anymore. I just don't. I am so lonely, but if trying means being rejected, then I don't bother. Control. That's what it boils down to. If I reject others before they reject me, then it's not as hard on me. So I don't call friends. I don't seek out companionship. I just DON'T.
No comments:
Post a Comment