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.