My Life, My History

My Mother

Written June 3, 2013

To turn back time is something so many people wish to do. To relive moments and re-experience memories filled with comfort and happiness. Rejoice in the wonders of being a child again. How I wish I felt like that; to crave the joys of being young and free... except I don't have much memory of being joyous and carefree. I do not remember a life of wonder and happiness. I do not remember the warm and loving touch of a mother who cared. I cannot recall moments together with my mother where I felt safe and comforted by soothing words and a gentle caress.

I have fragments of memories that emerge as broken emotions. Fear that my mother would snap and throw a tantrum. Tantrums where she would scream and cry and arms and legs would be flailing; trying to get back at invisible people screaming silent, hateful words at her. The silence demanding to be heard; the silence that falls upon a child's ears is heart-wrenching.

The child cannot hear the pain inside a mother's mind that the mother cannot ignore. The child can only see the frightening image of a mother who looks as though she were possessed by a demon.

"How to Cope With Mental Illness in Your Family"
Diane Marsh and Rex Dickens
Page 3
"One common landmark is the powerful sense of responsibility so often experienced by Family members. Especially when you were younger, you may have felt compelled to hold your shaken family together, to meet the needs of your other family members at your own expense, or even to "rescue" your relative. Witnessing this cataclysmic family event, possibly you developed a strong sense of responsibility on your own. Or perhaps others inside and outside your family implored you to shoulder an oversized portion of your family's burden. In either case, you faced an unmanageable task- no child is prepared to assume adult responsibilities."

Things I was told as a young child, as young as 5 years:

You're the glue that holds this family together.
You're a natural born leader.
You have to be strong now.
Help your grandma; things are tough for her.
Love your mom. She can't help the way she is.
She doesn't mean it. It's not her fault.
Why don't you act more grown up?
Are you still a child?
You'll just have to figure it out yourself.
Figure out how to get there/do things on your own.

"How to Cope With Mental Illness in Your Family"
Page 9
"To protect yourself as a child, you may have partially cut off painful memories, images, or feelings. This is called dissociation.
Possibly you attempted to shut down your emotional life altogether, a process called psychic numbing. As an adult, you may pay a high price for this earlier protection, losing touch with portions of your inner life and remaining imprisoned in an emotional desert.

As you learn to deal with your past more openly, your earlier avoidance strategies are weakened, which may result in the release of painful feelings, images, and memories that have built up over many years. Existing below the surface, these feelings may reappear forcefully and unexpectedly. This process is sometimes called emotional flooding. When these powerful emotions are unleashed, it may seem as if a dam has broken, leaving you feeling anxious and overwhelmed.
The shock of recognition you may feel after so many years of struggling alone can cause emotional flooding."

Everyone was always concerned with how my grandma was doing and how my mother was doing. No one would ever really ask me how I was doing.

June 25, 2013

No matter how scared I felt inside when my mother would have a psychotic episode, I was always able to appear and sound completely calm. Always a quiet tone in my voice. Sometimes, her eyes would be crazy and I could tell she was looking right through me as if I was someone else or not there at all. In those moments, sometimes I would grab her arm(s) and get her to try and focus on me. I always had the uncertainty in the back of my mind that any moment she could lash out at me. But I kept cool, showed no fear. Better for me to get hurt than my poor old grandma.

I was so good at keeping these powerful emotions at bay, I started to do it all the time without thinking, without realizing what I was doing. I shut myself off from the "real world" and made my own place I could feel safe and secure.

I remember crying that day my mother was kicking and screaming and the cops came and they threw her down and knelt on her back to restrain her and cuff her. I was 5 years old. I never cried about that stuff after that. It upset my grandparents too much.

June 3, 2013

It is freedom that I seek. Freedom from the pain of my own mind. A prison I created for myself when I was quite young. At first, I didn't see it as a prison, but a place to escape to and be alone with my thoughts. Alone with feelings and thoughts I didn't want to share for fear of what they might make me into.

I did not want to be like my mother. I couldn't stand her, yet I was forced to try and love her like a mother. But how could I when I was not sure what a mother was truly supposed to be. Is she supposed to be warm, loving and caring? Comforting when you are sick? Interested in your life and learning what you like and what you need?

I felt strange emotions from my mother, but I cannot put words to what they really were. Cold, distant, detached... nothing seemed to really flow naturally or "normally".

Secrets... so many secrets she seemed to have about who she was. So many things she was always hiding. Paranoid. Afraid of the unknown and wary of the invisible people she swore spoke to her and told her things about herself. Always asking me if I could hear it too. I didn't hear anything.

I was afraid of her when she spoke to the silent voices in her head. She always screamed so loud and yelled awful things at the invisible people. So wrapped up in herself and her needs... her wants for herself. Not me. Not the daughter she gave birth to.

I was not supposed to be here with her. She gave me up and my grandparents took me in so why is she here with me? I do not want her here with me. Taking away the love my grandparents have for me to satisfy her own loneliness. Leaving me to feel ashamed and confused. Left alone to wallow in a foggy world of hurt.

Stumbling around, blind, searching for my own path out of this insanity. Insanity I have been placed into without a choice. A tattered mind that tries to control me but I won't let it. I can't stand it. I just want to escape. Run away, run away... but there is nowhere for me to go.