To accept the things I cannot change, and build a new foundation for trust.

I went to Michigan to see my children and my mother a few weeks ago. I went by myself and stayed with my mother at her condominium.

It was a good trip; extremely therapeutic for me.

As I drove there and back to Ohio, I considered a lot of things.

The hardest part of the trip for me; as is every trip to Michigan; was seeing the obvious anxiety that my daughter still has when she sees me.

We are still somewhat awkward with each other anyway; because we are re-learning each other again, and I have not been around in some years.

It’s hard to know that I caused her damage that I cannot reverse. For whatever reasons they were, I will always regret hurting my youngest daughter in a way that will always make her question me.

I hate myself for it. To see it on her face is hard, but I know it is hardest for her. This beautiful child should never have to question her mother’s love or have had to in the first place.

Fact.

Today I put forth the effort every day to be a better person than I was yesterday. Even if it’s just little things like being more soft-spoken than I’d normally be, I do put forth the effort every day to be better in myself.

I understand what I’ve done and what it will take to have trusts form again between my youngest two.

I know that it will not be a traditional relationship. I know the reality.

Regarding my kids, I try to be totally honest with them now.

I am still not perfect, but I do what I say I’m going to do. If I can’t or think I might not be able to, I’m honest about it.

Because wanting to do, and doing, are two totally different things. Like saying you’ll be there, is totally different than saying you might not be there, but you’ll try your hardest to be.

I stopped promising my kids things that I know I can’t do.

It is better to disappoint with the truth than to make a promise and fall through on it.

I learned that hardcore, the wrong way; the hard way.

I damaged my kids because of it.

I worry about follow through a lot these days. In general, but regarding my kids for sure.

I’m trying to let them live their lives without major interference from me. They have a new family unit and are happy. I try to respect that fully.

I miss them every day.

I cry sometimes still because I’ve missed my kids growing up and every major event in their lives, since for years and years. I regret it.

I know I cannot change the past. I know that my daughter has anxiety because I chose to give up on myself and them. I was a combination of suicidal, scared, hopeless, distraught, sick in my head with grief over my whole life and what my life even meant after my son started getting sick, and then even more after he passed.

It was still no excuse to give up on my kids and everything.

I worried every day. All day long. But it was about if my son was going to die, and then it became what I could have done differently to prevent his death.

It was my entire focus for over a decade.

I was there, but I was not. Then I was not there at all.

I had a major lapse, and then I drank and combined it with narcotics to numb my brain from feeling any of it.

That truth is so hard to admit.

I will never be able to tell you what that feels like to have to know that your daughter has every legit right to be anxious around you.

What a selfish alcoholic I was. I tried to hide it and just couldn’t hide anything.

You can’t hide the truth, without repercussions.

This I know for sure.

I think of who I was then, and who I am today. I hope every day that my kids will start to see, some of the good changes in me.

I hope they will be able to trust me again in the future.

My children inspire me to keep going. If I cannot keep going for anything else; I will for them.

I told my daughter on the phone the last time I talked to her that I will always come back for her. Always.

I wanted her to know that I’m not going to get sick and go away again.

I know that I have enough coping and life skills in me now, to be able to prevent that from ever happening again. I have a support system. I have tools. But she doesn’t know that. How could she?

I hope that one day my daughter will feel happy to see me, instead of anxious.

It’s a goal that I have to work on, on my end if it; because I’m the one that made the problem.

Trauma is real and comes in many forms. If you do not deal with your own trauma, it projects out and you will cause trauma in other people’s lives. More so, you will systematically push away everything in the world that ever mattered to you, until you are alone with nothing else left but your thoughts.

Then you will begin to see the damage you have created for yourself, and for the people who love you.

My children had no choice in the matter. I did. I made the wrong ones.

If you can relate to any of this, my advice is find it in you to change right now.

Do not miss out on the best things in your life.

It is all I can do to keep moving forward now.

For my kids; for my future, for myself.

I can’t help but remember sometimes, because I know my kids still do. I hope to make it right in the end.

I have more to write about my kids, but that’s enough for today.

Love yourself; because if you don’t love yourself, no one else will be able to either.

P.s. Sorry about the head-chop Austin, your sister took the picture 🙂 ❤

J.Rounds ©2018 ~Peaces of ME

A Mother’s Regret.

My eldest daughter will be 29, at the end of this month.

THAT is CRAZY.

She is surely one of the brightest and most beautiful people you will ever meet; and I am grateful every day that she turned out to be so level-headed and smart…despite having someone like me, for a mother.

It’s true; that was not a “poor me, feel bad for me”, statement.

My truth hurts me MOST of the time…because I chose to put a lot of things in front of what I should have done…for most of my life.

I haven’t allowed myself to fully feel the thoughts of how much I was not there for my first born, when she was growing up.  I love her SO much, that it’s hard for me to think about how much I missed out on by choice, how much that must have hurt her, and how much I know I’ve let her down, when it counted.

I was not there for her when she was little, not really. Not like I should have been, at all. 

I was more of a visiting friend…and it wasn’t consistent, or of much quality. She was not yet a year old, when I left my mother’s house. She didn’t come to live with me full-time until the age of 13, and by 16, she was living with her father.

I think that one of the hardest parts for me about being sober, is that all of the parts that I was trying to kill with substance, come seeping back in through the cracks; like an octopus that is systematically creeping through a crevis five times too small for it’s body.

I sometimes think that what hell really is… is the pain you have to suffer through, when you are alive on this Earth.

It sucks to know that I hurt my daughter emotionally. 

How and why, is a story of it’s own…that maybe I can manage to get fully down on paper some day.

I was texting with my daughter yesterday; and she thanked me for continuing to reach out to her. 

All I could do was to reassure her that I was there if she needed me. 

All I can do today, is to prove it to her by being consistent with love and support when she needs me, and otherwise always.

I tried to stay away from her for a long time, because I was ashamed of myself, my selfish ways, and I didn’t want to screw her up. 

I wish I would have had the support to believe in myself, and that I could have been a good mother to her; because I think I could have been. 

The truth is, my mother had me believing that I couldn’t do much of anything but fail, by the time she kicked me out, and I left the house…a month before my 18th birthday.

Another truth.

When your mother says “I will call the cops if you take that baby…”

Let’s just say if I would have been smart, I would have believed that I could have been a good mother to her. 

I would have found a way to be, the mother I should have been, because I would have known that I could do it…

And I would have, TAKEN MY OWN BABY with me.

I love my mother, but I wish she knew sometimes, how much I wish I could have been my daughters mother, instead of her. 

I’ve struggled with this, for almost 30 years now.

I hope that some day, I can truthfully talk to my daughter about that time..because mostly my goal is to LISTEN.

I’m proud of my daughter, and the woman she is. 

I hope she always knows it. 

I’m glad she was raised to always believe in herself no matter what; because I think it’s made all the difference. 

I have more to say about it, but not today.

Love yourself.

J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME