It is so long ago since I first became a mom. If you ask my children if I was a good mother I am not sure what kind of an answer you would get. It would also depend on who you are. Let's ask me. No I was not a good mom. I loved and love my children more than life itself. Would I have given up my own life for my kids yes definately. I guess I should start my story from the beginning.
I was born in 1963, my father and mother were divorced when I was 12 months old. In 1964 and through all of my school years this was the embarrassment of my life. I attended a Catholic elementary school were I was "the last one picked for the team" the teachers always made us write about our parents and I only had my mom and grandma. More humiliation. Now let's also add the fact that I was overweight had only one friend and I missed at least 45 days a year from school due to having pneumonia and being hospitalized once to twice a year.
When I was 15 I was riding a bicycle and went head on with a car. By the way, I lost that lawsuit they said I was 60% at fault. I wanted to dance. I was a dancer in school. Singing and dancing was what I was good at. After the accident I could barely walk let alone dance. Meanwhile, while I was recovering in a hospital that wouldn't let me have a mirror, my mom moved us from Highland Park to East Brunswick. Highland Park was the first time in my life I actually had started to have friends. Prior to Highland Park most of my time was spent with adults. Well these friends lasted for I guess about 2 years. My right side of my face was crushed all my teeth were loose and I had a broken right leg with a plaster cast from my toes to my hip. Oh yeah my left arm was fractured too.
I think at this point in my life is when the depression started. By the time I was 17 four members of my family that I was really close to had died, including my grandma and my uncle at the age of 32 died of a cocaine overdose. Grandma's death was something I hadn't gotten over until much later in life, but that is a different chapter. Depression was not something that was talked about in public and was a family problem. My mom tried to commit suicide when I was 14.
By the time I was 16 and had to move East Brunswick I started to become sexually active. I was also drinking and doing drugs big time. I dropped out of high school because I would rather have gotten high or drunk than to go to school. This was when I met my future husband. Yeah I went wild, real wild.
When I turned 18 my mom had gone on a 2 week vacation to Arizona, she came home and and told she was leaving in 2 weeks to move to Arizona for good. Well my future husband begged me not to go. He even offered to move in with me so that I wouldn't have to go. Well long story short I stayed. We lived together for about 3 years. My "husband" was abusive, physically and emotionally. But I depended on him. I couldn't take care of myself, I didn't even graduate high school. When I became pregnant at 22 we decided to make it legal and we were married when I was 6 months pregnant. Being pregnant did not stop his abuse. Little did I know that what I was suffereing from was still the unspoken depression. He always accused me of cheating. (which by the way I never cheated on him while we were married).
My daughter was a planned pregnancy. I spent a month in a psychiatric clinic due to an abnormal eating disorder. This was the first time depression had been mentioned to me. The doctors wanted me to abort her because they wanted to put me on medication that they couldn't due to pregnancy. At least during my pregnancies I quit drinking and drugs, the smoking was asking too much.
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