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.
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.
J.Rounds ©2017 ~Peaces of ME