I didn’t know my mother was an alcoholic until my early teens, drinking a big bottle of wine every night, she would get drunk every single night as long as I can remember. I was always treated different to my siblings, they would be taken on days out with my gran (on my mothers side) and I was left unless my brother and sister didn’t go with them, the taunts from my mothers brothers and sisters was unbearable, from as long as I can remember I was called ‘tiny tears’ because they teased me so much I ended up crying all the time, yet I was still made to go visit them because they live with my gran.
My brother was more or less brought up in my grans house, he was the apple of my mothers eye, he used to hit me or call me names, I hit him back or called him names and it was always me that got shouted on. By age 13 I didn’t have the confidence to wear make up or nice clothes. I had a female best friend and I was called a lesbian by my gran and my mothers siblings, I had my first boyfriend at age 16 and I was a whore by the same people, my sister was also called a whore at age 11 by them, although I must state that my dad (who lived with us) and his family were the total opposite, we were not allowed to see them much because my mother would have one of her moods (that lasted days) where I would go home and she would shout and scream, slam doors etc, we lived on tip toes around her moods.
At age 16 I made my mind up that I wanted to join the army, I asked my mother to sign my papers but she refused, so for 2 years I enrolled in the ‘public services’ course with the college, just to pass time for 2 years before I could join without parental consent. I started talking to my other half online and after 5 months we met (my mother knew all about it and she gave him consent to come see me) he was 8 years older and I was 17 , a few days before my 18th birthday, after the 2nd visit my mother had a flip and threw me out on the streets, I was only wearing knickers t shirt and a dressing gown, in the snow with no shoes on.
I walked up the road then back down to get my shoes, she tried closing me in the house but I left, I was 18 and she followed me after she hit me, she phoned the police on me saying I had taken some kind of drug (I have never touched illegal drugs in my life only the ones prescribed to me). 2 weeks after and I was back there but she made my life hell, she made it impossible for me to wash my clothes or cook myself food, so most of the few days after I went hungry.
I found out I was pregnant during college, when my parents found out my dad was understanding, few days after my mom had a flip again, she called me a whore, yelling ‘’whose the daddy’’ when I had only slept with my other half in months! She threw me out again with my dad this time and threw everything I owed out, even the dog! After a week we were back in her house, I never wanted to go back, but she changed and was actually talking to me, when my dad wasn’t there she used to mutter names under her breathe and pull horrible drunk faces on me.
At this point my sister had turned 16 and our mother instantly signed her army papers. I wasn’t allowed to talk to my other half, when she found out I had talked to him she would make my life on shells, I had to tip toe around her, he wasn’t even allowed in my scans because she had told him he wasn’t the father and he would get shot. I had 6 scans in all and countless consultations but he wasn’t allowed in any of them, she never came either, the time when I needed a mother figure the most is when she turned her back on me and made the most magical time of my life feel dirty and wrong.
I had to keep it a secret that he was coming down to the birth (I was induced ). I gave birth to the most beautiful girl, then my mother came into the delivery suite, I wasn’t even stitched up yet, and she was paralytic drunk, her mouth hung on one side, the hatred in her eyes could have made the devil himself shudder. She yelled for my partner to leave, calling him a bastard etc, my face dropped, I didn’t know whether to cry because of her or smile because my bundle of joy was just born. She made the same scene on the ward when my partner was there.
After my partner went home my mother buckled up and made it a hundred times worse for me to talk to him, I couldn’t even text him. I remember one time I was on Skype to him and my daughter started crying, I instantly got up and made her a bottle, by this time my mother had got my daughter in her arms, wouldn’t let me feed her because I was talking to my partner.
My life was hell, I wasn’t allowed to teach my daughter the way I wanted to, I wasn’t allowed to take her out with my friends, I had no control over my own flesh and blood. Needless to say I found it almost impossible to bond with my daughter because of the way I was treated when I was pregnant and after birth, I felt powerless, felt I had to oblige to what she told me. She told me if I moved to my partners place then social services would take my daughter away, all the time she still got drunk every single night, it gradually got to a whole box of wine a night or a large bottle of cider.
I had to go days without having a bath because she couldn’t afford the heating oil (I paid for a full tank for her, she said she would pay me back the £400 but I’ve not even see a penny of it), most of the times they were cold baths. When I was on my periods I wasn’t allowed to shower only every couple of days yet when my sister was on her periods it was ‘ooh bless she’s on her periods’ when she had showers every day.
After my daughter was a year and a half I finally moved into my own house, I had to keep it a secret again that my partner was moving in with me. The day he moved in is the day I had any hope of a mother, died. She pushed me up against my wall by my throat, woke my daughter up screaming ‘bastard get down here’. She phoned the police on me and said my daughter was in danger! After the police came and made checks (the most awful part of my life) they knew that my mother was drunk and had a drinking problem.
I still suffer the mass effects of my childhood, when I come home after a while out I feel shaky in case my partner will shout at me, I’m mega mega shy and nervous, my amazing moment of giving birth was shattered, I get depressed and hardly leave the house, I can’t show emotion well. I now have no mother.
I think she must have some sort of mental illness which makes her this way, but she would never seek help, her alcoholism has got too much out of hand for anyone to try and concur. I must also add that I shortened this story a lot, there was a lot of her drunken arguments and debates which she always held her fist up like she would hit me, a lot of times I was walking on egg shells, a lot of times I used to try and confide in her but she would always turn on me. I am ashamed to say she gave birth to me.
This inspirational post was written anonymously by a mom who is a member of my Facebook mums group. I have full permission to share her story. If you can relate to this post and would like to share your own anonymous post please contact me.
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