My mother( who would get very defensive if she heard these words) is the full cause of my being codependent. She is an alcoholic. Though she seems to have her drinking under some control these days, she still drinks and still hides it. One time I was using the restroom at her house and the toilet wouldn't flush. I took the back off and sure enough there were two cans of beer in there. Now thats creative, hide it and keep it semi cold at the same time.
As a teenager I strived to be like "the good kids". I tried to be involved in after school activities. This proved to be very difficult as the support from home was never there. I remember stealing twenty dollars from my neighbor for the deposit on my dance line uniform. (which I paid back with some interest anonymously 20 years later). I got myself to practice and got myself home. Sometimes walking and sometimes getting rides from friends. No matter how hard I tried though I always got the blame for everything bad that happened. If something got stolen it was me. If something wasn't done rite it was me. I always took the fall for everything. Why? Because my mom wasn't there to defend me as everyone else's was. It always seemed I was trying to prove myself to everyone. In doing so I was one of the best at everything I did.
As I grew a little older and got my license I tried to influence my sister to participate in after school activities too. I was there to take her and pick her up. I didn't want her to be like me. I wanted it to be easier for her. I don't know what happen I guess she didn't have the drive like I did and she quit. But I continued to look after her. Watching her and dragging her out of one bad situation or another. It was like being a big sister and a mother.
My youngest sibling, my brother, I did the same with him. I tried to put him in little league baseball. He went to all the practices but on game day he was too far behind the other kids who had been playing since pre school. He stood in the field and picked at bugs in the grass and stared into the sky. He went to one game and like my sister didn't have it to hang in there. I also took him on hos first real vacation to Disney world. (looking back now I wish I wouldn't have done that but that's a story for another day)
And then there was my middle sister who had her first baby at 16 and the third by the age of 18. When she was pregnant with the third she showed up on my door step with no shoes on and two babies on her hip crying because her and my mom had gotten into a fight (of course mom was drunk). So I took her in. Low and behold 15 years later my mom blames me for her not graduating high school. She thinks I should have sent her home. Like that would have made her graduate.
Then there ways mom herself. At the age of 15 I honestly thought it was normal and okay to drag my 16 year old boyfriend out of bed at 1 am to pick my mom up from the bar. Now that I'm older I bet his mom was just beside herself.
There was the time she stabbed herself, the time she drove into a telephone pole (which time? I think that happened twice), times she would sleep at the bar and just not come home, times she would go to the store and not come back for hours, the screaming and yelling, the fighting with my dad and us, the many times she banged her head on the walls (drunk and sober).
For many years I hated her for all the chaos she brought upon the family. Then I realized she didn't bring any of it on us. It was the disease that caused everything that happened to happen. I learned not to hate her. I learned how to deal with the disease and not her. When she drank her insecurities would come out. She would be defensive and always want to fight. I learned not to fight with her instead reassure her how much I loved her and just try to get her in bed to sleep it off. Now I feel sorry for her. Like I would for someone with cancer. And I hope and pray someday she will stop. I know her drinking is from lack of self esteem. I remember she use to drink before she could even go to the mall. I think it was because she thought everyone at the mall thought they were better than her. Strange.
Because of these events I have always tried to be there to hold all of the pieces together all of the time. This was the birth of who I am and who I was to become.
As a teenager I strived to be like "the good kids". I tried to be involved in after school activities. This proved to be very difficult as the support from home was never there. I remember stealing twenty dollars from my neighbor for the deposit on my dance line uniform. (which I paid back with some interest anonymously 20 years later). I got myself to practice and got myself home. Sometimes walking and sometimes getting rides from friends. No matter how hard I tried though I always got the blame for everything bad that happened. If something got stolen it was me. If something wasn't done rite it was me. I always took the fall for everything. Why? Because my mom wasn't there to defend me as everyone else's was. It always seemed I was trying to prove myself to everyone. In doing so I was one of the best at everything I did.
As I grew a little older and got my license I tried to influence my sister to participate in after school activities too. I was there to take her and pick her up. I didn't want her to be like me. I wanted it to be easier for her. I don't know what happen I guess she didn't have the drive like I did and she quit. But I continued to look after her. Watching her and dragging her out of one bad situation or another. It was like being a big sister and a mother.
My youngest sibling, my brother, I did the same with him. I tried to put him in little league baseball. He went to all the practices but on game day he was too far behind the other kids who had been playing since pre school. He stood in the field and picked at bugs in the grass and stared into the sky. He went to one game and like my sister didn't have it to hang in there. I also took him on hos first real vacation to Disney world. (looking back now I wish I wouldn't have done that but that's a story for another day)
And then there was my middle sister who had her first baby at 16 and the third by the age of 18. When she was pregnant with the third she showed up on my door step with no shoes on and two babies on her hip crying because her and my mom had gotten into a fight (of course mom was drunk). So I took her in. Low and behold 15 years later my mom blames me for her not graduating high school. She thinks I should have sent her home. Like that would have made her graduate.
Then there ways mom herself. At the age of 15 I honestly thought it was normal and okay to drag my 16 year old boyfriend out of bed at 1 am to pick my mom up from the bar. Now that I'm older I bet his mom was just beside herself.
There was the time she stabbed herself, the time she drove into a telephone pole (which time? I think that happened twice), times she would sleep at the bar and just not come home, times she would go to the store and not come back for hours, the screaming and yelling, the fighting with my dad and us, the many times she banged her head on the walls (drunk and sober).
For many years I hated her for all the chaos she brought upon the family. Then I realized she didn't bring any of it on us. It was the disease that caused everything that happened to happen. I learned not to hate her. I learned how to deal with the disease and not her. When she drank her insecurities would come out. She would be defensive and always want to fight. I learned not to fight with her instead reassure her how much I loved her and just try to get her in bed to sleep it off. Now I feel sorry for her. Like I would for someone with cancer. And I hope and pray someday she will stop. I know her drinking is from lack of self esteem. I remember she use to drink before she could even go to the mall. I think it was because she thought everyone at the mall thought they were better than her. Strange.
Because of these events I have always tried to be there to hold all of the pieces together all of the time. This was the birth of who I am and who I was to become.
No comments:
Post a Comment