Growing up was rough
Growing up was rough, especially when you have a mother who is addicted to just about everything under the sun including her drug of choice…Meth. From an early age, my mother was an abusive, selfish narcissist. My father, who was military, met my mom and did the deed of getting married because she was pregnant with me and had my two older brothers from a previous relationship. My dad had to go overseas while my mom was pregnant and upon his return, I was 6 months old and the moment my dad got off the plane, my mom thrust me into my dad’s arm and headed straight to the bar where she proceeded to get drunk and flirt with the men inside. My dad was sitting in the middle of an airport, with all his military gear and in full uniform holding me…a crying baby who didn’t know him. This was just the start to her neglect of me and my brothers. She had gone out one night, came home late and my dad had to get to work. She passed out and I was found wandering the streets of the base at 2 years old and my dad had to come home. My mom and dad fought, and she smashed plates, windows, holes in the walls and the military police had to come and take her away. I was 2 and my brothers were 8.
Fast forward to when I was about 5 or 6 and my dad had to go to another place to live on orders from the military and a raging custody battle resulted in me living with my mom and my brothers (who my dad legally adopted) living with my dad. My dad lived two plane rides and about 13 hours worth of travel time away. My dad gets a call from his lawyer stating he can come to get me because my mom was going to jail for manufacturing drugs. My dad couldn’t make it because he couldn’t just leave his post for probably the 5th time in a year (about week-long trips each time) and asked my grandparents to take me (they lived a state away). My grandparents sent my mom a total of 3 plane tickets for me over the span of 2 weeks and she cashed out 2 of them to fuel her habits. I remember during this time my head became INFESTED with lice and my hair was long, thick, and full of beautiful ringlets so de-licing my head was near impossible. My mom would sit on top of me at night while I slept combing my hair after she was high but to no avail because…she was high and didn’t really take care of me or my hygiene. Finally on the 3rd plane ticket sent, her last day before jail, she sent me to my grandparents where my grandfather looked at me with such sadness in his eyes because my lice infestation was so bad that the only thing we could do was cut my hair. I went from hair down to my butt to hair above my ears. My dad was furious but after she was out of jail, she was still awarded custody of my older brothers (about 15 at the time) and visitations with me.
You can only imagine what my brothers have had to endure during all of this and to be honest, we don’t speak about it much. My mom lived about 5 minutes from my grandparents which is where I lived at the time due to my dad being overseas, and my brothers lived with her, but I would go visit a couple of times a week. I remember my brothers sneaking food from my mom’s house, taking me out behind the apartments and cooking food for me over a fire because mom would beat my brothers with whatever she could find for eating certain things. My brothers looked out for me, but they were damaged by my mom and were turning to drugs too. One brother was high one night and made sexual advances towards me (8yo) but my other brother came and saved me by knocking the wind out of our brother. This scarred me and that actually put an end to visitations.
Since then my mom was really sparsely in my life, but I did connect with her again when I was roughly 18. She is still a selfish, meth-using, narcissist. I will admit, due to her being my mother I still love her, but I know distance is not only wanted but needed. She continues to be abusive including making racists comments about my own child.
What advice would you offer to encourage others?
You CAN make your life better. I focused for a while on the pain my mom caused me but came to realize that she showed me everything I do not want to be as a mom to my own child. Talk to someone, friends, family, a professional, SOMEONE! The pain doesn’t go away but it helps. Share your story because once it stops being taboo, you can find some peace. You are NOT alone.
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