A truth for my children

My children are grown and living their own lives now.  It has been a few years since my son stopped speaking to me.  Missing him has become an ever present ache in my spirit.  Recognizing this is a stage of life most parents live through, does not lessen the sense of yearning and disappointment. While there has been much more contact with my daughter, it is strained and filled with what has become a standard feeling of yearning for the of connection that existed when she was small. 
Being disappointed in myself for the many mistakes and failings made in parenting these two amazing people, is a constant battle I have within myself.  Knowing the past can not be changed and allowing myself to move to the present and look to the future involves something I have not been able to do.  Forgiveness,  specifically of myself and accepting to the truth that I truly did the absolute best I was able; with the skills and abilities I had at the time. Looking back, i know some of my actions were abusive, most of them were not. Living with a mother who had more than one sever mental and physical illnesses was a truth of their childhood. 
None of us knew I was mentally ill for a number of years.  After it was known, my ex and I were not equipment to adapt ourselves to change quickly enough. We had a loving support system, but not a trained one. All of our lives were affected by this.  I am only in the past few years able to say I am living a life that is more balanced and healthy.  Our children learned early that inconsistencies were the norm; that mom loved them but was unpredictable in what she would do or say from day to day and sometimes from hour to hour.  They grew up with a mom who often was physically or emotionally unable to meet their basic needs, at times both at the same time. 

My intense desire to create the perfect life for my entire family was the driving force that helped me function in a way that most people never knew about my mental illnesses.  I would push myself to be the "perfect" mom; being a leader or a volunteer in every activity the children were involved with, homeschooling them to ensure they were not only well educated, but more importantly " safe" from the dangers of the world.  I believed the children were safe with me.  I functioned without acknowledging the deficit I was creating.  There were so many experiences that were wonderful and amazing and at the same time dysfunctional and completely over the top.  When the deficit became greater than my ability to overcome, our world collapsed and exploded at the same time. My ex and I lost each other  along the way.
I crawled into a world that seemed to fill the need I had to be sheltered from myself.  My ex found solice from the chaos in a separate world.  Our actions were damaging to all of us and created gaping wounds which on some levels are still bleeding wi the each of us.  The reality of our lives was so much more than these words convey and yet there is a basic truth in them.  Now, there is no going back and doing any of it over. None of it can be undone. I can only live in this moment to seeing my own truths and be willing to forgive or not; but to move into the next moment with the hope of living with acceptance and  joy.

I want the forgiveness of my children. I want them to gain understanding of who I was and know that I am not that person now.  I also know those choices are not up to me.

children of mine dealing

My kids are young adults now. They each have become amazing and independent people. They have lived all of their lives with a severely mentally ill mother. It was not easy. It is not easy. It will never be easy. They both crave order and clarity. As each of them travels their path, their anger and frustration of events from our past are influencing their acts and beliefs. Currently, they want as little to do with me as possible.  It breaks my heart but I have come to embrace that each person has to find their own path and peace.

Growing up, the kids often took care of each other and frequently, me in many ways. When I was ill they would make their own lunch. We homeschooled for many years and I used the philosophy that if I teach them how to learn, they well be able to learn anything they need or want. This put them in charge of completing their work and me checking in to make sure no one was lost. On the days that I ruled the world from the sofa. i.e. I was to ill to be up and around, they would come to me for help and I was available as they needed me. Because of my mental illness, there were many occasions when both of them felt responsible to care for me, to protect me from the world and myself. On my bad days one or both of them would make lunch. They learned to cook and take care of chores. These were things they had to do any way, but the stress of  feeling responsible for their mom was overwhelming at times.
Thomas and I should have brought in help, but neither of us was truly aware of the long term  aftereffects the children would have to live with.  Life is not perfect and hardship develops character but there needs to be a healthy balance. While frequently our family had decent balance, there were many times it did not.  Dealing with a chaotic mother, who changed what they were doing, how they were doing it and when, every couple of months and sometimes days, was stressful and confusing on the best days. It was frightening and filed with anxiety on the worst.

I wonder if they will understand that we did the absolute best we knew how at the time, some day?