Parental contributions.

I am afraid. I am drunk and afraid. So terrified of turning into my mother and giving my children the childhood I had. I had a mother who was very disappointed I didn't look like her and made it very apparent. It started with my hair colour, then my nose, then my lack of wearing makeup, then my chest, never bothering to buy me nice clothes I'd wear her ill fitting, once expensive, hand me downs and get made fun of. I remember being so small and staying with her while she sobbed uncontrollably after breaking up with one of her shitty obsessive abusing boyfriends. I remember watching her boyfriend choke my brother out under the Christmas tree while she yelled at them. I remember finding her multiple times when waking up as a child passed out on the floor and making her "power shakes" with bananas and cocoa because she said she had low blood sugar and I wanted to help her...I was really little...she was on speed. I remember when I was in high school my brother who has since passed away telling her she was a bad mom when she dropped him off for work. She then picked me up from my boyfriends house where I tried to stay whenever possible and proceeded to lose it in the car threatening to drive us into a rock cut while driving like a crazy woman. I told her to do it. I remember telling her when I was a teenager that I wanted to die and her asking me what I had to be stressed about and telling me that only cowards kill themselves then walking away. I remember breaking up with my very first boyfriend of 3 years when I was 18 and going to her crying about it and her telling me to get over it. I remember her telling me to part my hair on the side and it would make my nose look smaller. I remember the derogatory comment in front of all of our co-workers when I was in my early 20s about my large chest. I remember the mean drunken comment in front of all my friends about how much smaller than me she is. I remember trying to tell her I was raped while drunk in college and her telling me that if a girl is drunk it's her own fault. I remember consoling her...all the time. I remember the complete lack of consolation in return. I remember dying inside at 8 years old watching The Secret Garden just wishing I had someone who wanted me and her forcing my father to take me out for lunch. I remember knowing that even though I was the only girl and the youngest the fact that I look like my father who she hates made me the least favourite. I remember giving up on school even though I had very good grades because even though the teachers wanted teacher parent interviews to tell her how well I was doing she didn't bother to go. I remember when I stopped showing her report cards in grade 3 because she didn't care how well I did anyway. I remember her constant belittling comments about what I look like. I remember the first time she called me a little bitch when she was drinking. I remember all the screaming and fighting. I remember her constant rage. I will forever hate confrontation. I still know that the only reason I'm important now is that her favourite died, my eldest brother hates her, and I'm all that's left. My father was a piece of garbage, coward, drug addict who wasn't around most of the time and didn't care until my brother died and his guilt made him turn to me for short lived and short wanted forgiveness...I remember being raised most of the time by my Nanny and Poppa while my mom was dating. My Poppa was the only person I ever felt really important to and he died when I was 15. My brother and I got fairly close though he suffered from schizoaffective disorder but he died when I was 6 months pregnant with my first son. My son was born right after what would have been my brother's 30th Birthday and he said my baby was going to be an early Birthday present. I remember being so alone when he died. I remember receiving a brief phone call to tell me he was dead and then no one answering their phones to tell me where to go or what to do and screaming into my pillow like an animal. I remember all the times I gave up on life ever being better. I remember cutting myself as a teenager knowing no one would notice or care anyways. These are things I don't share...these things are mine. I alone carry this weight knowing there are people in the world who suffer from much worse and trying to downplay the emotional impact it had on me...I know others have dealt with worse...but I'm only me...and this is what my life was. All I ever wanted was to be important, loved. Now I have this. Once again second place. Do I feel sorry for myself? Sometimes...but then I feel bad for it. Life could be worse. Life could always be worse. I'm drunk and melancholy. But there is no better time to dredge up these memories. This pain. It won't ever come out otherwise. I wrote a poem a long long time ago that still seems so adequate...
I'm a sad girl, that's what I do.
But I'm a happy girl, and that's who I am for you.
It's all about hiding, hiding what you really are.
And I can tell from your face, I've done pretty well so far.
Nothing sums me up better. I'll smile through almost anything. I don't want people to feel sorry for me, I don't want people to feel sad because of me...and I certainly don't want to be the subject of anyone's pitying, derogatory, gossipy conversation. I'd rather keep my secrets. Keep my childhood, keep my marriage, keep my pain, to myself. And this...is why I don't drink anymore. All I want out of life is my children to respect me, to have a good life, and to feel loved and respected in turn. I will NOT let them live the life I led, or feel the way I feel. People say they would die for their children but when push comes to shove sometimes they're not willing to sacrifice much for them. My children are my everything and deserve all I have to give. I love them with all my heart. I won't let them feel unwanted, inadequate, lonely or broken. I will fake it until I make it and as much as people say children can sense it, they've never seen a desperate mother intent on a good life for her kids. I can fake it until I feel it on a daily basis and one day I'll just feel it. I've been doing it my whole life and it's worked so far.