My mother was diagnosed with many mental illnesses. Her rages were unprecedented. She was extremely violent, suicidal and frequently had fantasies about critically harming her children. Instead of removing my mother from the home, my father chose to ignore these problems by being away as much as possible and left his kids to manage his wife.
I was ten years old on a particularly volatile night. When this would happen, I would curl up in my little closet and comfort myself by listening to Dolly Parton records. On this night, however, I came upon a woman with a comforting voice on a small transistor radio I had. She was talking to a young lady who was upset that she had a bad mother and a bad childhood. The woman told her that she had simply “been in the wrong line when they were handing out mothers.” The woman went on to say that she didn’t need to be a survivor of a bad childhood. She could be a champion by focusing on and being grateful for the blessings in her life.
Upon hearing this, I wasn’t frightened anymore. I didn’t feel guilty or that I deserved the abuse. I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t feel weak. I felt like a warrior. I was going to grow up and make my own kind and loving family.
I am 45 now, and have been married for ten years. I strive every day to make him feel as loved and adored as he does for me. Over the years, I’ve “adopted” mommies, daddies, sisters, brothers, uncles and aunts. Focusing on my blessings instead of the bad childhood I was dealt has altered the course of my life. Thank you for being one of my adopted moms, and, most of all, thank you from that frightened little girl in a small closet so many years ago.
Tammy
I Was a Frightened Little Girl in a Violent Home
