I’m sure everyone has the proverbial skeleton in their closet. But today I am having an especially hard time. Why, you ask? Because SHE came into my mind, while I was laying in bed, and then my thoughts started to gallop away to the dark place they are so magnetically drawn to. Who is She? She is the force that brought me into this world. She is my mother. My mother whose memory claws at me from a pool of quick sand, constantly threatening to pull me under.
It’s true, I do not like to talk about this subject, however today I am in need of a little therapy. I’m having a hard time, so I might as well get it out of my system.
My mom was… well…. for most of my life, the best mom in the world. Took us everywhere. Did everything for us, with us, and wanted us to have the best experiences. I mean, my brother and I even took Ice Skating lessons! She was just THAT mom. As I grew older, things began to change. She began to suffer from severe depression. She slept all day. I literally mean ALL DAY. She was angry, and mean., and we fought like cats and dogs. As a teen, I hated her. She NEVER wanted to spend time with me like all my friends moms wanted to be with them. She never took me shopping or gave me money for clothes. So I had to get a job when I was 16 and I had to pay for my own school lunches and everything else I did. Then, one summer day she came to my room and told me that my dad had admitted he was cheating on her. We had a very close family, so I felt broken inside. I never expected my dad to do this. He was my buddy. We went walking every night and he coached all of us on our Softball and baseball teams. He was a great dad. But it happened, and he betrayed us. My mom told me to take my little sisters to a movie so they could talk. So I did, and I cried through the whole thing. My sisters had no clue what was going on. When we came home, no one was there, so I took my sisters to lunch and a friends house. When we came home again, the house was empty. We hung out for a while doing whatever and then heard the tell tale signs that my dads truck had pulled into the driveway. He came in and wanted to talk. He told us that my mom was in the ICU at the hospital and that she had tried to kill herself. I felt like my world that day was turned upside down. How did we become this family of cheating on our spouses and trying to commit suicide? I yelled and screamed at my dad. I hated him for what he did to her. I never wanted to talk to him again. Enraged and hysterical, I had to get away. The hospital was a block away, so I got in my car and drove up the hill. When I got to the ICU, they needed help with her and asked me come in. A little piece of my heart broke off when I saw her. She was possessed. She had black charcoal covering her whole mouth and dripping down. Her teeth were black, and she was screaming. They were trying to calm her down so they could get the leather restraints on her, and that is where they needed my help. To talk to her. Her face was not her own, and she was bucking up and down in this little hospital bed. I told her that I was there, and that she needed to rest, but I was 17. A 17 year old mind can only take so much. The only coherent thing that came out of her mouth was ” I have to get Holly some money for school or she will hate me” Of course this was blurry and slurred and it cut right to my heart. I started to cry and shake and the hospital staff immediately asked me to leave. I went to the little hospital chapel and prayed. I prayed for my mom to be ok. That she would come back to us. We needed her. I can’t remember much more about that night except I came back when she was out. They had intubated her, and I came and stayed the night. When I was 2, I had pnuemonia and she stayed with me in the hospital for 13 days. How could I leave her alone? She spent a full 24 hours intubate while the bottle of pills she swallowed removed itself from her system. At some point, she came home and things started up as usual, but not. There was a chip in my heart, and a wedge in our family. A Child should NEVER have to see her mother like that. Throughout the next few years I had a very rough time with this. I was so hurt by my dad and cried a lot. Usually before bed when my thoughts would start flooding in. She had loved my dad so much that she could not imagine living her life without him. She didn’t think about her children, or how it would play out. She just knew that she loved him so much that she would rather die than continue a life where he was with someone else. I still have days where I cry. This story, by comparison to the rest seems mild. When I cry, it is not about this day anymore.
My dad never knew that I went through this. He never knew that this haunts my memories. I had kept it inside my mind for many many years. It got brought up last year at a family counseling session where I pretty much blamed him for my moms death. ( That is a story for another day!) To this day I cannot talk about my mom to him. He, whether in denial, or hurt, or anger, refuses to talk about her with his kids.
So, there you have it. Day 1 of the depression inside my head. This pretty much started it all. And when I wake up in the morning thinking of her, it usually is a hard day to get through. I try to remember the good days. There were so many. The iceskating lessons, the piano, gymnastics, dance, clogging, softball, violin and all other lessons that we got to take. I try to remember my mom and that there were more good days than bad, but as I get older my memories of the good days starts to fade. There is so much more to my story, So many more bad days, But I try to focus the good. And always I REFUSE to let the depression get to me. I REFUSE to give up. I REFUSE to sink.