I'll admit I don't remember very much of my childhood. Whether that is my DID or I just can't remember I'm not sure. What I do remember however is mostly the negative things, which I feel was most of it. I was okay up until about 9, that's when i realised my Mother was an alcoholic and my world flipped upside down. I'd had issues since before then.
In my opinion my parents were and still are pretty rubbish at parenting. Whether it is a generation thing, they chose to be that way or they were just pants i'm unsure. But they did a dreadful job of it for various reasons. This isn't to say I don't respect my parents and that i am not thankful for everything i have because of them.
To be fair on my Dad, he has worked all of his life, and damn hard. Simply because he believes that is what men should do. They should go out and provide for their family. The only time I can remember him not working for any length of time was when he broke his spine falling from a scaffold. I don't know how old I was but I remember vividly him laid on a hospital bed, with an oxygen mask on, groaning in agony. And my next memory of him walking towards the house with a cane.
Then my Mum having to go back into work to make ends meet, I spent a considerable amount of time with other people during that time and it was like Dante's Inferno, I was experiencing the different circles of hell. These were generally not kind people and I feel they had offered to care for me simply so they looked better than my own mother.
My Mother wasn't great at parenting, due to her alcoholism and simply because I wasn't male. My brothers always got more attention and affection than I did beyond the general care you should give a child (feeding them, clothing them etc). My meal portions were considerably smaller than theirs, I was often left to fend for myself when she got drunk and fell asleep. Often the police or a neighbour had to return me home when I was 3 or 4 years old because I had left the house and wandered off.
I didn't have many friends growing up. Early in primary school I had one friend who left me for another friend. First abandonment trauma? Maybe. I remember it hurt a lot as I didn't have any other friends, bullying had already begun by this time both in and out of school. Then I made a new friend, somehow. We were inseparable for a good 10 years, our circle grew by 2 or 3 people by the time we reached high school then I was abandoned again for somebody else. This time I tried to find reasons for it, I still put it down to the fact we were at puberty and he was a guy and I was a girl. I think I likely also created other reasons that may not have been real, I was hurting a lot, my Mum had gone into a detox centre for 6 months and I wasn't allowed to tell anybody. I'd begun to break down at this point I think.
I think I struggled with a lot of separation anxiety early in my childhood, I went everywhere with my Mum before I went to school, I think she saw me as a burden as she was trying to grieve for the death of her own Mother as well as care for her verbally and physically abusive Father. I don't remember much about the man but I recall the seething hatred I had for him whenever we went to visit him. Even at a young age I knew he was an awful man, I remember him hitting my Mum once whilst she was trying to help him do something and the rest of the time he would shout at her and she always cried when we left. I'm ashamed to admit I didn't cry when he died, I was sad for my Mum but i was secretly glad he was gone, he had made my Mum so incredibly unhappy. I hoped she might change now I guess. I was wrong.
Once I was in school I struggled to settle in, I recall my first day I spent the entire of it hysterically crying. I'm not sure if my Mum had to come collect me or not. It's all a blur but I remember the teachers trying to bribe me with different foods in the lunch hall whilst i sat with my head in my arms sobbing. I felt abandoned, there was no warning, I was just dumped there. I thought I had done something wrong and spent a long time trying to fix whatever that was to no avail. In the end. I stopped trying and accepted my Mum no longer liked me and I just had to deal with it.
I have no photographs of me with my Mum, only one with my Dad. I also don't have many photographs from my childhood and the ones I do have I don't think I smiled in many and is still something I tend not to do. These are the only 2 photographs I can find of myself as a child and that makes me a little sad.
I refuse, with every fiber of my being, to make the same mistakes with my son that my parents made with me. I will tell him it is okay to express your emotions, I will remind him he is loved, I will keep him safe. I'll let him make mistakes and bad choices so he can learn from them. I will encourage him to try new things with and without my help.
Now, I don't hate my parents. I love them dearly, they did the things they did for their own reasons. Not all of it was okay but I forgive them for their mistakes, I understand how incredibly difficult parenting is, the fear you are making a mistake with everything you do, the constant worry about your child's health and/or behaviour. It's the hardest but most rewarding job.
I am glad I had the childhood I had. It made me into the person I am today. I admit I wish it had been easier at times, but who doesn't wish for an easy life?
Every hardship I have faced, every cruel remark, every beating, every failure, trauma or hurt i experienced... Look where I am now. And it's not too bad a place. I have learnt a lot and have so much still to learn!
Until next time,
stay safe, stay amazingđź’•
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