Follow @stuckinscared Stuck In Scared: 'The never ending story'

Monday 3 December 2012

'The never ending story'

When my eldest four children were small they watched a film called ‘The never ending Story’ They loved it. At one point our living room was filled with the magic of this film on almost a daily basis. They went on to enjoy the sequels and one of the sequels (I can’t remember which) was based on a little boys memories. His memories were in the possession of an evil character and held inside little transparent balls in a large clear container.

Let me try and get to the point.

I guess if it were possible to view all of my own childhood memories in such a way it would be far easier for me to sort out the wheat from the chaff so to speak. I might sort the little clear ‘memory balls’ and discard all of the less desirable one’s for instance.

I had a difficult childhood, my mother suffered with mental illness and was often emotionally unstable and aggressive towards me.
Of - course there were good days, inbetween the outbursts mum tried very hard, she wasn’t evil, she was ill. I accept that she was unwell and while I am still uncomfortable in her presence I do forgive her.

I struggle to remember cuddles, kisses and ‘I love you’s’ from my mum, they are there somewhere in my subconscious, but they are buried under all of the things that caused me to fear her. 

When I look back to my childhood I remember - the sting of a dirty blue ‘flip flop’ as it slapped with full force against the top of my leg - the smell of her tobacco tainted spit as she screamed obscenities at me, her face so close to mine that our noses almost touched - the taste of ‘Palmolive soap’ which she used on more than one occasion to wash my ‘dirty’ mouth out - the perfect imprint of her hand red and raised on my skin - the disorientation and pain that comes after being slapped full force by adult hand around the side of the head!

I remember cowering at the bottom of the stairs in the hallway with my face pressed painfully against the little table that housed the old fashioned telephone anticipating the next blow, which I knew by the rage still spitting from my mothers lips was on it‘s way!

I remember the day that I took a biscuit without asking and she almost broke my little finger. I remember my own fear and pain, and also her fear and panic as it dawned on her that she may have gone too far.

Now let me fast forward to my own children and a day that I will never forget.

My second son ‘Charlie’ is two years old and though I don’t know it yet he has ADHD, he will not be formerly diagnosed until he is eight years old, ‘Danny’ my first son is almost four and my first daughter ‘squeak’ is still a babe in arms.

We have just returned home from a trip to the park, I usher the boys into the house and wheel the babies pram into the living room, in the time it takes me to do this and promise the screaming ‘squeak’ that a boob is on it’s way, all hell has broken loose in the kitchen!

Let me try and paint the scene - ’Squeak’ is screaming so hard that she may well explode at any minute, in response to her wailing half a gallon of breast milk is forming a river to my belly button, ’Danny’ is pulling at my trouser leg whilst whinging “I’m hungry” and ’Charlie’ Oh God, where’s ’Charlie’!

At the sound of breaking glass I run with ’Danny’ still clinging and ’Squeak’ who is now in my arms, still screaming in the direction of the kitchen, where I find ’Charlie’ stood at the open fridge door with an egg in his hand.

Now ’Charlie’ has a plan for the egg, Oh yes, the glint in his eyes, the smile that is spread across his chubby little mug, and of - course the three or four gloopy yellow blobs that are already floating in a pool of milk and glass at his feet, leaves me in no doubt! 

Action stations!....
I Yell “Don’t move you‘ll cut yourself” to ’Charlie’- disentangle ‘Danny’ and shove him in the general direction of the television, and reunite the alien that is ‘Squeak’ with her pram.
Back in the kitchen, I carefully lift ‘devil child’ out of glassy danger and stand him still clutching the egg over by the back door.

I’m calm as I lay tea towels and cloths over the river of gloop and glass which is fast making it’s way underneath the fridge, I’m calm as I carefully begin to pick up the million pieces of milk bottle glass and place then one by one into a dustpan, and I’m calm as I explain to ‘Charlie’ that he is a very naughty boy!

THEN.. ‘Charlie’ begins to laugh causing me to look away from gloopy floor and over towards the back door....and there, sunny side up at his feet, is the last straw!

Something inside me snaps, before either he or I can do anything about it I am upon him, I grab him, and screaming into his face just as my mother used to do to me I thrust him back towards the back door....I have no words for the rage that is coursing through my body!

And then (almost loud enough to be audible) a voice inside my head screams 'STOP' and before his back touches the door, before any harm has been done, my senses are alerted to the fact that the bottom half of the door is made of glass, and that the cheeky glint in my child's eyes has been replaced by shock and fear!

Mid thrust I pull my beautiful, cheeky, exasperating son back towards me and into my arms, and I hold him there amidst the chaos until we both stop sobbing.

I carry him into the living room and sit him in front of the T.V next to his still hungry brother, stick a dummy in ‘Squeaks’ mouth with another promise that milk is on the way.... and phone ‘social Services’….

A social worker was with me within twenty minutes that day and did not as I feared threaten to take my children from me. Instead, she encouraged me and assured me that mothers who are likely to hurt their children do not call social services and ask for their children to be taken to a safe place.

I was offered a lot of support after the events of that day and accepted it all gratefully, I decided on a no smacking rule, and since that day have never raised a hand to my kids.

Very quickly, because I realize I have rambled a bit today, I would like to touch on something that happened yesterday, the inspiration for this blog

I screamed - I mean, I really screamed! My youngest daughter who has physical and mental disabilities had been mind blowingly difficult (not her fault) we were late for Church, I hadn’t slept, my head was pounding, and ‘Littlie’ who was by now strapped into her wheelchair began screaming - AGAIN!

With no warning at all I began to scream, the piercing sound that came out of my mouth shocked both me and her, and reduced ‘The Bodyguard’ (who has more than enough to deal with) to tears!

I was and still am mortified that I would behave in such a way in front of my child and feel so ashamed that I lost control, but it's what happened afterward that brings me back to the beginning of this post and my ramblings about ’memory balls’.

I am desperate that despite my mental illness my children’s good memories will outweigh their bad and that they will NOT be damaged by their mother as I was by mine!

So hopefully.. the things that ’Littlie’ will hold in yesterdays ’memory ball’ will NOT be ’mummy sat on the dinning room floor screaming like a mad woman, but will instead be replaced with.. making paper angels with mummy - arranging little houses on the snow scene under the tree with mummy and snuggles on the settee with mummy while watching a Christmas movie. I do hope so.


POSITIVE THOUGHT
Good, better, best, I’ll never let it rest until my good is better and my better is my best.

PRAYER
LORD, Thank you for the little voice in my head that told me to ‘STOP’ that day in 1989’ and for all the days since that I have managed (despite mental illness) to build happy memories for my children.
Please forgive me any moments in their lives where my illness has had a negative affect on their day. Amen

Thank you for allowing me to share

GOD bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x                                            

20 comments :

  1. How I can relate to this post :-( I could have written it myself, the volatile mother....me swearing I would never be like that, and as you say, years down the line, subsequently "screaming like a mad woman" at my own daughter...the daughter I promised myself I would never do that to. (((hugs))

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. If you relate then here is a (hug) for you too! I am sure your daughters good days far outweighed the bad!You obviously care very much about her happiness!

      God bless you

      Kimmie x

      Delete
    2. Love the child. You weren't there, but you're the adult now. Protect the child that needs you to love her. It can be done. It wasn't your fault and it wasn't personal.

      Delete
  2. You are breaking the cycle....you can see the things that your mum did wrong and you are doing your best not to repeat those. It is hard but when we are not on guard our mother come back through us. But you are learning to stop things and prevent then happening again. I hope the good times out weigh the bad times for my children too.

    Best wishes and thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. HI hun, Thank u for your supportive comments both here and on twitter! I think your children are very lucky to have such a warm and caring mum!

      God bless

      Kimmie x

      Delete
    2. I second what this lovely lady says x

      Delete
  3. Thank you so much for sharing this. I can't imagine how hard it must be to do that. I work at a shelter that provides services and safety to women and kids who are survivors of domestic violence or sexual assault. I'm sure that many of them feel as you do. Reading your blog helps me understand them some much better. Blessings and strength to you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thankyou, It was a difficult post to write, I am struggling with guilt today and wondering wether I should have posted this piece, my mum is a different person to who she was then and now trys very hard to reach out to me! The problem in our relationship is now with me rather than her, I find it hard to let her in!

      It was cathartic to write but has left me feeling dis_loyal!

      God bless you and those in your care

      Kimmie x

      Delete
  4. When we come from a background of abuse of whatever description, there is often a lingering fear in our minds that the cycle may be repeated through us and on to the next generation. Your very open awareness, personal faith in God and determination to be the best mother you can be to your own little ones, is the reassurance you have that - while flare-ups can surprise and terrify - you do not have to repeat the patterns you grew up with. The buck can stop with you.
    You have so much inner courage, honesty and strength Kimmie. As you pour out your own story you are helping others to relate and know they are not alone in their struggles.
    Take heart, my friend, you have everything going for you and your children are blessed to have such a loving, watchful and perceptive mother to care for them. Their memories will be positive ones. May God give you His confidence, rest and peace in the midst of your turmoil :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Beautiful words Joy, Thank you so much. You have a way of putting things into perspective for me. I always feel strengthened by your words and I am grateful to you for reaching out as you do.

      God bless you

      Kimmie x

      Delete
  5. You are proof positive, Kimmie, that the abuse need not continue to the next generation. Finding role models from those you saw in other families when growing up and being aware that you did not want to expose your children to the childhood you had obviously gave you the strength you needed and need to continue on your own path, a path that takes much strength, determination and self-awareness. Bravo! May you continue to find strength from God and the Lord. Finally, what strength to have written such a brave post. God bless! xx

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thank you Irene,For reading and for taking the time to reach out to me! Your words are encouraging.

    God bless you and all those you love

    Kimmie x

    ReplyDelete
  7. I admire you Kimmie your childhood wasn't great but you still seem to turned out to be a nice caring person. It doesn't matter if you have mental health issues as I once read , Today you are you. That is truer than true. There is no one alive who is you-er than you!'
    I didn't have a great childhood my stepdad was abusive and nasty mainly to me because I was ginger some of the things he did still upset me. People say 'why didn't your mum do anything? I would of done something' my reply is always the same, my mum tried but she was a victim of domestic violence you don't truly understand domestic violence unless you live with it my mum was told day after day she was a slag or a slut just because she made the wrong thing for tea or she was a bad mum by my stepdad and after a while she believed him she gave up hope I watched my mum change from the nice caring lovely mum I knew to a stressed upset person who would cry when she went to bed. I can still remember hearing her crying in her bed at night. Thankfully she did leave him 3 years ago and life has got better now my mum has returned to her old self.
    I'm 18 now and I hope one day I make a good parent like you even if my childhood like yours wasn't great. Thank you for tweeting this website I really do admire you.

    Dominic (@domdom1919)

    ReplyDelete
  8. Thankyou so much for those reassuring comments Dominic, I am not a perfect mother by any means, my Gambling addiction which I have yet to write about hurt my older children and though I have been free from gambling for over eight years now, I too carry the shame of letting my children down in the past. I stand by my *no smacking rule* and work hard these days to not give in too any form of escapism that might hurt my kids but I am mindful of the fact that while my mum wasn't perfect neither have I been! I am glad things are better for you and your mum these days and that you have each other,I am sure you will make a great parent, you sound like a very caring person.

    God bless you and yours

    Kimmie x

    ReplyDelete
  9. I also relate to this :-(
    I shout embarrassingly loud and hear myself yell things like "do that again and you'll regret it you little ..." normally in response to my eldest deliberately physically hurting his younger brother.

    Now I'm not an ogre or anything and I try to behave properly but when he attacks his brother my instincts are to protect the smallest, as he's not able to protect himself. Then I feel so bad. I know my eldest thinks I hate him- I don't! He just triggers me in so many ways, even deliberately whistling even though I've beggggged him not to!

    I will always instantly protect the most vulnerable as I did as a child (stayed in danger on purpose as the SS wouldn't remove youngest sister from the family home. I had to protect) and honestly I hate it!

    ReplyDelete
  10. I think we all shout at times hun we are only human, Im far from perfect! My shame at the time of writing this blog was that I had a mental illness melt down and screamed hysterically, not at my child or hubby, it was just a scream, a kinda mini break down release! I was upset that she witnessed it!I think the important thing is to just be honest with our kids, admit when we are in the wrong or not feeling great, say sorry if required and teach them to do the same!

    Sounds like your eldest knows which buttons to press. bless him! You love him, he knows that! Have you tried star charts ect, positive reinforcement? worked for my son who has ADHD, tho we did have our ups and downs lol :)

    Thanks for reading and commenting

    God bless

    Kimmie x

    ReplyDelete
  11. Heya Kimmie,
    The boys are ten and four. So eldest doesn't respond to stuff like that anymore.

    Hugs to you.

    ReplyDelete
  12. It sounds to me as though you are being very hard on yourself. You are determined to give your children better memories of their childhood, while at the same time ealing with mental health issues and special needs: you are only human, we all have bad days and we all have breaking points, wishing you all the very best xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm not sure how I missed your comment in January but I'm sorry taht I did (how rude of me o_o)

      Thank you for your lovely words, support, encouragement - I do hope my (belated) response reaches you :)

      God bless

      Kimmie x

      Delete
    2. 'That' even o_O Why do I always notice the typos after posting lol x

      Delete