Boundaries

Boundaries are something that I still struggle with to this day. The month of April was a difficult one because it is always a reminder of how long it has been since I spoke to my mom.

The morning Sydney was born after being in labor for 29 hours, pushing for an hour and a half, and sleeping for a few hours I had a difficult conversation with my mother. That was over four years ago. In that moment and the moments leading up to having Sydney I knew I was only going to allow healthy people in my life and my family’s lives. In that conversation I made it very clear what I expected of her and what I needed from her in order for her to be allowed back into our lives.

I needed a healthy mom. A healthy grandmother. A healthy mother in law. Those were the boundaries that I set in place. I need to be healthy for my children, my family but mostly for myself. Toxic is toxic family or not. In the times when she tries to reach out to me or send me things it is a trigger for me. It is triggering because she clearly ignores my boundaries and yet still tries to send things. I don’t want things they mean nothing to me I want a healthy mom. And I just wish she would respect my wishes. Things mean nothing to me if she is not healthy.

I was around 12 or 13 years old when I was called a c-u-n-t. In high school I was told to go spread my legs and have men f*** me. And I was called and told so much more that I will not dare to share. When I set my boundaries in place please know that I am doing it because I am protecting myself. Before saying “she’s your mother,” and “you only have one of her,” maybe try to understand where I am coming from. The years of damage and trauma have taken a toll on my mental health and there were times when I thought I was those names that she would scream at me. I had been called those names so many times over the course of my life I started to believe her and I thought I was a wh*** or a b****.

I share these things not to shame my mother but to give a small glimpse of my life. My boundaries are mine to set and I am more than willing to share why I have them in place. I have worked really hard to get to the place where I am today.My happy memories of my mother are far and few but I do remember in those sober times she was hilarious, caring, vibrant, and beautiful. I know I will never get that version of her but I do hope someday I get a healthy and happy mom. I am thankful for my life the good and the bad. I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t have those deep, dark moments where I was able to find strength to keep going. And again please know this post is not to shame my mother but I want to share what I struggle with everyday❤️

I struggled for many years with boundaries and holding true to them. It got to a point when I just couldn’t handle the emotional trauma and I knew I needed to do something before I lost it. I am so thankful that I was strong enough to set those boundaries in place and hold them. My children are my motivation to be the best version of myself and I want to be happy and healthy.

Just go for it

I am going for it. I am applying for a Family Nurse Practitioner Program. When I finished nursing school in December of 2018 I was convinced that I needed that I needed to have an actual real nursing job before I applied to a Nurse Practitioner program. It has always been a dream of mine to be a Emergency Medicine Nurse Practitioner and return back to the YK Delta and work in the sub-regional clinics to provide care to the Yup’ik communities. Growing up in chaos has always had me preparing and overly preparing for the next step. It doesnt matter if I am driving, preparing for a test, anything I am always going over in my head what road I will take, when I will turn left, what lane I will be driving in, and when I will turn my blinker on. I have always prepared myself for my next move no matter what. When I would have surprises occur in my life I would panic and freak out. My body would go into a fight or flight reaction and I would always fight because that is what my body was used to. When a crazy event would happen in my life growing up I would always fight and as an adult that would be my first reaction. So applying to FNP school after completing my BSN was not in my head.

This was taken after completing my BSN. I did not walk during graduation but instead snapped this to celebrate my completion of the program.

I always felt that I needed to have actual “real nursing” experience. And what I mean by nursing experience is inserting IV’s, foley catheters, assisting in codes, and all that hands on experience that I do not get on a day to day basis as a school nurse. After completing my BSN I thought that I wasnt smart enough. I didnt have the experience because I was only a school nurse and I felt that I needed that hands on before applying. However, as a school nurse I am getting that nursing experience just in a different way. I was not confident in my skills as nurse and I always felt that I needed “real” experience. I now realize that I am good enough. I have the experience. I can do it. And I will do it. I do not need to have worked on a Med-Surg Unit to apply to FNP. I do not need to have that hands on experience before applying because I will learn it while in school and through my clinicals. And I do have the experience I just dont have it as a nurse.

This was after completing my AAS in Nursing in December 2018. I started my program 6 months pregnant and graduated when she was 18 months old.

My love for the Emergency Room started in February in 2008 when I was hired on as an Emergency Room Technician. I loved it. I loved every aspect of the ER and I felt so comfortable. And that comfort was because of my childhood and growing up in chaos I craved chaotic environments. I strived in that environment and it felt like home. And in that time working in the ER I was accepted into nursing school the first time. But that first round of nursing school did not work in my favor. I was young, arrogant, and felt I knew better than the instructor and I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut. Thankfully, I was failed out of the program due to personality conflicts between myself and the instructor after the first semester. Looking back I was creating chaos for myself and instead of keeping my mouth shut I chose to argue back. It was a hard lesson for me to swallow but I am thankful that it happened. I have learned from it and I can say that I am thankful for that experience. I worked in the ER for almost 3 1/2 years and had plenty of hand on experience with assisting the nurses and providers. But because I wasnt a nurse during that time I always felt that experience wasn’t “good enough.” I know now that it is good enough. And I am good enough. I am confident in my skills, and I know that along the way I will learn those skills I need in school, clinicals and on the job.

My daughter Syd was a huge motivation to finish school and continue on my journey.

I felt a strong urge and incline to share my thoughts because if you are wanting to do something in your life and you are afraid to do it, DO IT!

Have the confidence in yourself to know that you can do it. Take the leap. Make that call. Apply for that program, job whatever it is. You are good enough. I am taking my own advice and taking that leap. Its scary. Really scary but I am comfortable and feeling confident in myself.

I have all the support in the world and I am so thankful for that. My husband has been my rock through everything. He was by my side when I was failed out of the nursing program the first time. He has watched me change jobs because I was never happy. He has always had my back and has been supportive no matter what. I am so thankful to have my best friend by my side pushing me to follow my dreams. Thanks boo.

And here is my husband who was supportive through everything and still is to this day.

I am excited and scared for this next chapter.

But I am ready. And I am confident in myself and I believe in myself. And I can do it!

It was hard.

It was hard to see her like that.

It has been a long time since I saw her and seeing her brought back a flood of awful memories and tears.

Tears rolled down my cheeks

I was angry.

Again.

why?

I thought I was okay. I thought I was moving forward.

but seeing her again like that

brought me back to when I was an angry, angry teenager and I wanted to bury myself

into my obnoxiously loud music, scream into my pillow and escape. But escape where?

No matter where I go she’s there. she’s always there.

I feel like I will never be able to move on with my life until I completely cut her off.

But why?

Why do I have to feel like the bad guy?

All I am doing is trying to take care of myself. Better myself. Heal myself.

But I feel like the bad guy.

What is so wrong about trying to be healthy? Happy?

All my life she has tore me down. Called me the most horrific names and I am talking

horrific. Adults should never say those words, especially to their children. I don’t care

how intoxicated a person is they should never, ever call their children the names that my

mother has called me for almost my entire childhood, and adult life.

But it will always be hard to see her like that.

No matter the day.

The time.

Place.

I wrote the blog post above almost 3 years ago and couldn’t finish it. Thats how hard it was to see her that way. But thankfully I am in a much better place that I was then and have been able to move forward. For a long time I was stuck in the same place and I couldn’t seem to get past it. But I made it and everyday I work on getting better and better so that I can give my daughter and children the best possible life they deserve.

 

 

End the cycle, here.

The cycle ends with me. I choose to stop the cycle. The cycle of generational trauma is on repeat. And WE need to do something to stop the cycle. Not the government. Not the schools. Not the tribal councils. But WE as a family. Community. It has to start in our homes. Aunties and uncles homes. Friends homes. And it needs to happen sooner than later before we continue to lose more of our family members to alcohol, drugs, suicide, domestic violence, and so much more.

As an adult child of an alcoholic, everyday is a battle. But I am dealing with it the best way I know how. It may not be the right way but it is the only way I know, and for now it has been working. For now. Growing up I never wanted to seek help because I thought I had it covered. I kept telling myself I was fine and nothing was wrong with me. It wasn’t until my later adult years I realized I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t okay. Something was wrong with me and I couldn’t figure it out. I was an angry kid, angry teenager, and it carried into my early adult years. I refused to deal with my emotions and I turned to alcohol and chew. But then there was a turning moment in my early 20s when I realized I didn’t want to be anything like her. And that’s when I knew. I knew that the cycle would end with me. I will refuse to be an alcoholic parent. I will refuse to be a verbally abusive parent. I will refuse to make my children live in fear, every single damn day of their lives.

I know that when the time comes for me to be a mother I will never, ever, ever put my children thru what I was put thru as a child, teen, adult. No child should ever have to hear those words, be treated with such hate and anger, or live in a constant state of fear. No child should ever have to put a restraining order on their parent. No child should ever have to be scarred for life for the hateful words that were spewed in a drunken screaming match.

 

But.

 

I am not bitter. Angry. Hateful. Sad. I do not feel like I am a victim. I am grateful. I am grateful for the person I am today. I am motivated, and determined. I have a raging desire to find my pursuit of happiness every single damn day. My childhood was a mess. But as an adult I have a choice to dwell in the past or make the best of every day. I choose to make the best of everyday. I choose to smile. Laugh uncontrollably. Cry when I feel a wave of emotions overcome my body. I am not ashamed anymore to show my emotions. They have been in hiding for 20 years. No more hiding.

 

So please.

 

Choose the path that is right for you. But please do not continue the cycle of abuse. You can stop it for your generations to follow. Think of your children. Grandchildren. Great-grandchildren. But mostly for yourself. Because in the end you have to live with yourself. Your mind, body, and soul every single day and you have to be healthy for you. Not for anyone else, but yourself.

 

But for me.

It ends with me.

I choose to be healthy.

The cycle ends here.

 

 

Choose to be Happy

Today, and everyday I choose to be happy.

I refuse to allow anyone’s negativity affect my life in anyway. No more. I wont do it.

Growing up with an abusive alcoholic mother was horrible. Ridiculous. Awful. Sickening. Devastating. Depressing. & Humiliating.

Everyday is still a struggle. But I choose to put a smile on my face, and put one foot in front of the other.

Moving away from home was the best thing for my recovery. Recovery from an abusive, horrible, awful mother who was verbally abusive for the last 20+ years.

I am an adult child of an alcoholic parent. On the inside I am hurting. Hurting a lot. But it gets better as each day passes. I am getting better, or trying to get better.

I am comfortable in telling my story. I don’t break down in tears anymore. And I can laugh about, even if its not funny. Humor is a good thing and I chuckle to myself thinking it hasn’t been an easy road to get where I am today.

I am thankful that I can share my story. Because growing up with a parent who constantly called you a fucking cunt, or a bitch. Or tell you to go spread your legs so other men can fuck you isn’t normal. And its not right. And just because she was in an alcoholic state doesn’t give her an excuse.

Alcoholism is an addiction. Yes. But name-calling isn’t an addiction. It is a choice one makes. And let me tell you from experience those words will never go away. Never. Those words will forever be ingrained my in mind, and I have never been able to forget them. Sometimes I can just hear them echoing in my mind and it makes me sick to my stomach.

I can remember the first time my mom started calling me all those awful names that your parents tell you not to say. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked. How? I was only a little girl. Why? Why me? I didn’t understand. And then it never stopped the name calling just got worse. And I got used to it. Until I got bigger and started sticking up for myself.

I deal with my mother the best way that I know. And I wholeheartedly choose to separate myself from her. It is my choice and not anyone else’s. Please don’t tell me how you think I should deal with it. Because if you haven’t been in my situation, or a similar situation where your mother was screaming obscenities at you, and trying to fight you then you don’t know what its like.

I am learning how deal. So please just allow me to deal with it the best possible way I know how. I am doing my best.

I choose to be happy.

Do you?

Holiday Sadnesses

As the holidays are nearing I feel a sadness begin to overwhelm my soul.

I cant remember the last time that I spent a holiday with my mother…

I know I am an adult and I have my own family, and I shouldnt want her around as much… But considering the last Christmas that she spent with us was maybe 10 years ago or longer… I can probably count on my fingers the number of Christmas’s and Thanksgivings’s, birthday’s that she has spent with my brother, dad and myself and I am 26. Not a whole damn lot.

As a kid its saddening. I can remember crying myself to sleep some nights because of the unknowns. Why didnt she want to spend Christmas with us? Would she be at my birthday? Will she spend Thanksgiving with us? Year after year the same depressing feelings.

Now. I cant even stand to be in the same room with her. In and out of jail for reasons unknown. The moment she gets out of jail or the half-way house shes all smiles and hugs as if nothing happened. As if she didnt call me a bitch. Or threaten me. Or whatever she does. Nothing. Everything is sparkles and ponies. Bull. It sickens me to my stomach. How can a human being be so stupid? Shes a fucking idiot. Yes shes mother and blah blah blah. And shes sick. And has a disease. Yes. She is all those things but she is not trying. She thinks she can apologize for calling me a bitch and everything be fine without actually taking into consideration my feelings, and emotions. She must think, Oh I can just apologize, tell her I love her unconditionally and everything is kosher.

There is no room in my heart for my mother. Until she decides she wants help and wants to get better. Then maybe. Then maybe then I will make a spot for her but until then she is nothing to me.

No human being gets a pass for that kind of behavior. I mean give me a break shes in her mid 60s and has been a raging alcholic since I was like 4 years old. 22 years of homelessness, drunk, calling your daughter all names in the book that no child should ever have to hear. Sickening.

My holiday sadness is no more. After writing this and getting my blood boiling and getting myself irritated I dont have no sadness for her. She has played the victim card for 22 years. Go spend your holiday on the streets with a bottle of R & R.