This one is a tough holiday for me. I was born on May 12, 1975, the Monday after Mothers Day that year, and as a result the two holidays have become intertwined over the years. A few years ago, I ended my relationship with my parents and this is a tough position to be in. Today I am thinking of the others out there, that have divorced their parents. Society can be cruel and some can try make you feel guilt about your decision. The truth is, they didn't live YOUR life, and they have no fucking right to judge you.
If I had led the Hallmark Channel version of my childhood, my birthday being close to Mothers Day would be really neat & sweet. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I do not have a good mother and my childhood was not a healthy one. My mother is mentally ill and found in my father a weak man that would become her enabler. They are hoarders, and I grew up in that toxic and filthy environment. Guarding their secret as a child was my full time job. I did what I thought I had to do to survive. I became a bully and a bad kid by societies standards. Thoughts of suicide as my ultimate release and or last strategy were constant. People have asked me how often did you think about suicide as a kid? My answer is as shocking as the answer of any child growing up in a war zone. I thought death almost every day, I knew it was always the answer if I was "found out." I could never have gone into school the next day if the kids ever saw inside the our house. So there are no warm feelings there for good old Mom. It is true she gave me life, but her illness and lifestyle almost cost me my life. I bear the scars and PTSD of all the lies and actions I did based on her choices.
Luckily for me I found a beautiful, intelligent women that I married. Ashley was already a mother when we met. This too, was a blessing, as I became the father I would never have been. It turns out, a very small percentage of Children of Hoarders become parents. Most of us are simply too damaged and clueless on what normal looks like to conceptualize having children. The idea of having kids always felt like a dead nerve to me. I can't truly express what it has meant to me, to see a good mother do her best inspite of all that has come at us in the last 16 years. It gave me hope as to what can be, as well as helped me deal with my past. Ashley is the love of my life, a beautiful mother and the one who has helped pull me back from the edge on several occasions.
There are plenty of us out there that are dealing with the actions of our mothers. Keep an eye out and a close ear for those that are hurting. Holidays like these can easily send someone with PTSD into very dark places.
