I am a single mother of 2 boys. well. you can't call them boys anymore, one bugger is almost 30 and the other just turned "sour" 16 a couple of days ago. Whoever coined the term "sweet sixteen" obviously has faulty tastebuds....
I come from a broken home, had a weird childhood growing up. As a female child growing up in the 70s, I was a walking Chinese Dilemma.
My early years memories of my mum was of a smartassed sassy loved to dance strict lady who always reminded me of my Ps and Qs.
My Dad was a fleeting image of a Happy go Lucky laughing person who was not always around.
I would be driven to kindy in a Jaguar.... weirdest thing ever considering the kindy was only like 578 metres from my house.
The relationship between my Mom and dad that I bore witness to, was one so volatile, if I look back into my memory bank, all I can see are vintage coloured images like a "shadow play show or wayang kulit" of two people arguing and literally fighting with fists and hands all the bloody time.
That is when they were together in the same room.
If they were in different places, they behaved quite normal.
Whenever I look back and try to remember about my early childhood with both my parents together, I just see myself running between my mom and dad after one of their constant huge rows, trying to pacify and calm the situation.
Each would tell me that it is the other's fault, while I tried to put cream on one and wipe off the sweat and spit with a wet towel from the other.
The other memory that often resurfaces is one of tiny me surrounded by all my pillows and bolsters, all the cushions from the sofa in the sitting room and whatever I could stack up high like blankets.
I would make a night time mini fort to guard myself against gargoyles and scary things in the closets and under the bed, whilst I tried to make myself go to sleep but so frightened of the dark night and praying hard to see my dad's car headlights shine into the bedroom window so that I know he is finally home.
Why I was alone at home so often ..... I have no idea.
These fragmented pieces of my past may kind of explain the slightly kooky grown woman you see today, one who is super obsessed with certain things.
Like I will have to press a light switch 12.8 times to switch it off, otherwise the world will end. Or some shit like that.
I will blame myself hard for anything bad that happens, any problems or any conflict I will kick myself in the gut first and then I will try to fix it to make things better, bending over backwards and forwards and being utterly stupid.
Or... sometimes simply run away.
Why? Because I hate conflict of any kind.
I build a wall around me to protect myself, hence, not many people will know the real me from the image I put out there.
Sometimes, I don't even know who the real me really is.
To be continued.....
#middleagedwoman #mystory #thenewnorm #howtocope
No comments:
Post a Comment