Generational Curses

 As parents I think we all want to give our children a better life than we had. I know I try my damn hardest to give them a completely different childhood than I had. Yet some generational curses are not as easily broken. I know I'm not a perfect mother and I have many faults, but I truly thought I was doing a pretty good job raising our four cubs. 

My son gave me a huge wake up call which has made me take a step back and really look at myself in the mirror. I was at work and my husband was home with the kids. There were toys everywhere and the boys were refusing to clean up. Bobby told them that if he had to do it himself he would get rid of every toy in our home. And my son's response was "You can't do that, because this is Mummy's house." As an outsider you might think this is funny coming from a 4 year old. However, when my husband called me at work to tell me my stomach turned. He hears everything we say even when I think he isn't paying attention. We argue and have huge blow outs in front of our kids. And my son has clearly heard me say numerous times during those fights "This is my house! Get out!".

What the fuck have I been thinking? I haven't been. When I get mad at my husband this rage comes over me and I get tunnel vision. I don't see who or what is around me and I just attack him with my words. During one of our many fights my husband recently pointed out how nervous my son gets when I lose control. In the moment I didn't care, but now that I've come to the realization of the damage I've caused I can't take the image out of my mind.

Part of the reason I get like this is learned behavior. When I was growing up it was normal to hear my mom get into huge arguments with her boyfriend. It didn't matter if we were in the same room or not. She would blow up the way I do and the whole neighborhood would know. She saw her parents do the same until they separated when she was 14. My grandmother even attempted to kill her first husband. When she found out he had cheated on her with another woman she took his gun and shot in his direction, but luckily missed.

 I resented my mother for a long time. I wished she had made different choices when we were growing up and wanted her to be a "better" mom. When I became a mother I was determined to be everything she wasn't yet I find myself making some of the same mistakes she made. When I lose my cool with my husband or even my kids the very words she would say come out of my mouth so naturally as if I had been saying them my whole life. Its very clear that I come from a line of emotionally unstable women. Is this the behavior I want to model for my children? I have a daughter now. Is she going to inherit this curse too? As much as I like to pride myself for coming from a family of strong, independent, outspoken, no nonsense, won't take anyone's bullshit type of women I have to admit it comes with a price. 

Another contributing factor to my explosive personality is PTSD. Most of the fights between my husband and I boils down to money. He likes to spend and I am more conservative. My motto is pay the bills first have fun later. He on the other hand thinks he worked hard for his money so he should spend it as he pleases. He doesn't look at the bigger picture. Whenever we have a fight about money I go crazy, because it brings me back to when he was in the midst of a full blown Percocet addiction. 

Without actually looking at the facts that are in front of me by going through the bank statements to see what was spent, and then having a conversation I just blow up on him. Every single time I think something shady is going on I automatically make up my mind about it and am brought back to that chapter of our life. I have such an intense reaction. " I know you are lying to me". "I'm not putting up with this again. Get out!" "I fucking hate you!" So many emotions all at once. Anger, hate, sadness, betrayal, disappointment. One minute I'm having a good day, the next I'm this scary monster who would rip his head off if she could, and then I'm crying uncontrollably. My children witness all of it, but I don't see them. I don't see or hear anything; I am only focused on him. I become someone else when I am in this state of hysteria, and it must be such a scary site for a child to witness. I want my children to respect me, but never fear me. 

I'm so scared that I messed up my son. That he too will resent me for what he saw at such a young age. Will he have behavioral problems because of it? Will he become defiant towards us? As I'm writing this I'm starting to get anxiety and I want to cry. I really thought I had this perfect little family. In my head I created this image of what our lives together would be like. The boys would adore their Mamma, and be their father's pride and joy. The teenage years would be tough with Julianna like every girl, but she'd come back to me and be my best friend. We would raise respectful children who grow up to be successful members of society. They'd eventually have a families of their own and would provide them with an even better life than we gave them. They'd look back on their childhood and only have happy memories. They'd thank me and Bobby and would emulate us, because we were the perfect example of two people who are in love and happily married. I feel like I've shattered that dream.

Now that I'm aware of this I know there are things that have to be done now. Taking my anti-depressant medication is non-negotiable. I struggle with remembering to take it daily, so I've set an alarm on my phone as a reminder. Also every time I've been on it for a while and I'm doing well I tell myself that I don't need to take it, because I feel good. For anyone who isn't familiar with how they work,  anti-depressant meds are a mood stabilizer. That doesn't mean its a happy pill like I once foolishly thought. For me it keeps me even keel and stops me from going 0-180 in a matter of seconds. The things that annoy me or piss me off are still there I just don't have such an intense emotional reaction to them. 

The second thing that I know has to happen is therapy for little Bobby. I'm not sure at what age he should start seeing a therapist. Since he is almost five I'm assuming soon if not now. Bobby and I both see a therapist separately and together. With all our marital issues we've had, and all the trauma we've experienced individually we are big believers that everyone should talk to a therapist. Talking about things and finding healthy ways to cope with those feelings helps to start the healing process.

Arguing in front of our children stops now. They don't need to know what our disagreements are about. And they sure as hell don't need to be traumatized by the person who loves them the most. I am supposed to be their safe place, the person who loves them unconditionally, and will always be here for them no matter what. I don't ever want them to feel like they can't come to me
because of how I may react. I just hope that when little Bobby is older he can forgive me for the mistakes I made and understand that I was the doing the best I could while raising four children and managing my depression, anxiety, and PTSD.