Please Not Her

I spent more than a decade trying everything to prove that I was NOT her.

 I was positive that if no one ever saw me fail, or cry, or my house a mess, or my kids with dirty faces, or me lose my temper...then no one could ever accuse me of being just like her.

 Mostly, I think, I was just running from my own overwhelming fear, of waking up one morning, the mirror image of my mother.

 My mother embarrassed me and at times she also scared me. My mother did things  that were meant to hurt, degrade and demean. My mother was unpredictable, demanding, manic....I hated her and I meant it.

Mom was severely mentally ill and out of control and my twenty-something self  had next to no understanding of the illness that raged inside of her.

I could not see beyond the face value of her heartbreaking behavior. And floundered miserably as we waded through those years of chaotic decline. I felt the sting of isolation and judgement by an outside world that had loud opinions and couldn't understand our need for distance and protection any more than I could.

Mom never did find peace in this world and her death brought no peace or healing for me either. No for me it caused me to run as fast as a could towards a pretended perfect life, so I could be anything but, her.

For years I ran...For years we pretended perfection and even ignored a diagnosis...But mental illness was not finished with our family...

More than two years ago now... we could no longer pretend and we were forced to face the reality of Bipolar disorder again. And it was not the mother I hated, but my sweet superman I love dearly....

This journey has been so different, maybe it's the advances in treatment, pharmaceuticals, and knowledge...maybe its our own understanding that has come with life experience and maturity...maybe it's our support network of dear friends and professionals...maybe it's just meant to be different...

Facing this again has stopped my marathon.

I'm glad the run is over, I can't do perfect, pretend or otherwise, anymore...
Feel free to judge away. I simply don't care what you think unless you think were AWESOME.

I am not my mother, but neither was she...Understanding has replaced hate and I look forward to the day when I can meet her again, free from illness and free from her heartaches and tell her how sorry I am. There are no do-overs here, but I am forever grateful for the gift of understanding and all those who seek to understand and support us now.