The devil you know. It’s a great saying. Sticking to the shit you know..it’s easy. It makes a lot of sense. Again, I thoroughly regret ever starting with talking about fears. It would be easy, I thought. It would be simple, I seconded (thanks, random voice in my head). Where are we now? In a turmoil of fucking fear of future. …well, no, no fear, not of future, …well…. Where we are is a turmoil of all the things we were, are, and could be. We are in a turmoil of all things stopping the future we want.
Let me explain. I know I’m a daughter of an alcoholic, and an emotionally abusive mom. My dad would drink, cheat on his wives and girlfriends, and break every promise he ever made. My mom would take her anger at me, put me down, call me out on random shit, accuse me of everything and anything…to put me down. That was my normal.
As I grew older I started to slowly realize that maybe the dad I admired and looked up to wasn’t as good as I thought he was. The man who I grew up idolizing wasn’t actually worth it – at all. …he was smart though, charming, funny… but an asshole.
But. Here’s the thing. I have been so afraid of becoming my dad. The good things about him, like his charm and IQ – I have it, I hate it. His habit of having two-three bottles of vodka a day – nope, not there…wine though…I was especially proud of this 40 days of lent, of no drinking. I did it, could do it, easily. Fear 922527 – Me 1. I have always been afraid of turning out like my dad.
Little did I know, I would one day wake up realizing I’ve turned out like my mum.
After the divorce, when I was about 8 or so, I remember my mum having boyfriends. Me even meeting couple of them. But after that; nothing. After that my mum turned into a…and I mean no disrespect, if anything, I owe my life to her for this…single mom with three kids. She spent her life making sure we would have everything we needed in terms of food, clothes, and eventually a loan against her house that allowed me to get my bachelors.
I love her. I respect her for that. I am forever grateful.
My mom sacrificed her own well-being and wishes and dreams for me and my brothers. But she never got over what my dad did to her, and from what I gather there is a lot of bottled up anger and regret in it too. I never got the love of a mother, never felt it. I felt the regret, anger, and bitterness. I got, whatever she felt for my dad. I was an emotional punching bag for her.
It hurts me to write this.
I saw a woman ignore her dreams, her work, her social life. I saw her giving up on her and focusing on us. She would play candy crush on her computer, have a beer or two and watch tv. She would start missing all her deadlines, she would get shit from her clients. She’d play candy crush, have a beer or two. She would feed us, but she was away – mentally. We could see her, but not feel her – not the love at least. Not me especially. Me, more than my siblings would get the anger and the hate. The snappy comments, the bitterness. The emotional abuse.
It hurts me to write this. So I will stop it now.
Point is. I woke up a few days ago and saw my mom looking back at me in my bathroom mirror. My weird as nightmares did warn me about it, but still! Hello revelation! I have indeed turned out like my mom. I have given up on being me, I’m overwhelmed and overinvolved in other people’s problems, I have a drink or two way often, and I’m damn good at candy crush. I’ve completely lost myself. I’m supportive of my friends and loved ones though, I have a strick no emotional abuse polilcy, but still…what a thing to realize…what a think to reflect on…what a thing to act on…
I guess this doesn’t make sense to you…I’m certainly still making sense of it myself… Go fears!