So, in the process of hair-cutting, we got to talking about the band that he had playing in the other room, and he reminded me of an incident we had a few years back, where I destroyed a bunch of his cds. I had no recollection of this incident, as well as another involving some reading material of his, in which I threw a bunch of books away as well. I had NO memory of these things. That really bothered me.
I guess I'd had black-out rages before, but primarily they were limited to alcoholic blackouts. (It seems appropriate to mention now that my children have never seen me under the influence of anything mind-altering.) That being the case, it hurt me SO MUCH to think of how I railed and ranted against/on him. The only thing I remember from around that period, as far as my insanity/acting out, is a time when I had my boy pinned in a corner with my body, daring him to hit me, and using everything in me not to hit him. To his credit, he was never abusive to me. It was soon after that (those, I guess) incident that he went to live with my Mom.
Hearing about my behavior back then, even Clean and Sober, really shook me to the core. All I could think to say at the time he was telling me (Not to be hurtful, just saying what he remembered), was "I was really under a lot of stress then." And it was continual, and constant, for the 6 or 7 years we lived in "Crack Cental". The spirit of oppression in those apartments was really almost tangible. I guess that will have to go down in my life as one of the lowest points. I don't know if I was on medication at that time or not, but I guess that would be a reason for the extent of the outbursts, if I was not.
So, after I finished the haircut, I went home and cried and cried and cried. I sent my son a text saying that I did not remember those things and that I am SO very sorry for behaving that way. Of course he said "it's fine", but it's NOT. Knowing how his "dad" has emotionally abused him, and how the depression had kicked his butt (as a result of dad's bullying, I suspect), I KNEW that he didn't need an abusive, insane Mom. I told him that now I know why there's been such a separation between he & I, and that he was protecting himself from me, and I said that he was smart for that. A friend said that it could have been worse, etc., trying to comfort me, I guess, but I don't receive that. "At least I didn't" is a typical cop-out for people who aren't really trying to move forward. I mean, I know it's true, that it could have been MUCH worse, but that really doesn't make me feel any better. Wow.
I hope there won't be too many more revelations like this, but in the spirit of opening communication and working toward a mother-son relationship again, I'll ask, and he'll have opportunities to tell me what I did.
The feeling that comes back to me about those times, is that I was being JUST like my DAD. I have PTSD that was begun as a little child, as a result of my Dad's "parenting". My God, is that what I had become?
I knew that when we moved into that place, it was either there or a shelter, and it was the lesser of the two evils. I guess it was a rock & a hard place, but I couldn't have known the toll it would take on us.
I've had big regrets, from what I DID remember, but now I'll have more work to do. To find a way to stop hating myself, to forgive myself...to re-build a loving relationship with my now 20-year-old son. Guess I'd better get some step-work done.
Days like these send me running to the Mercy Seat.
|He loves the Unlovable|