Day 6 - Whatcha' fuck up this time
Ahhh my mother.
Almost every negative memory can somehow be traced back to her. Like a lot of kids, my mother was not Donna Reed, although her trying is the cause of a lot of our issues. She was not nice, not nurturing, not present and not good for me. For many, my stories involving my mother seem unfathomable. But she, and her antics were very real. It wasn't until she said the phrase "whatcha fuck up this time" that I finally had enough. Enough of her, of justifying her behavior towards me, and allowing her to hurt me.
I checked myself into a mental health facility back in 2001. I had had a doctor that apparently thought it was a good idea to combine medications that should never have been taken together. The side effects were not only unsafe, but down right scary. I was hallucinating, homicidal and manic. I was also a mom with kids to care for. I tried to shut it up, off, whatever. I drank to calm myself down. I made poor choices most definitely.
Eventually I checked myself in voluntarily for three days to safely get off the drugs, or at least figure out what was going on.
On my first day with the doctor he asked if I wanted to call anyone. I said I would like to call my mother to make sure she was aware of what was happening and to make sure she was making herself available if need be for the kids. The doctor called her number and introduced himself. He said "your daughter is inpatient at blah blah blah hospital currently receiving mental health treatment and would like to speak to you".
He handed me the phone.
I said "Hey". She said "Whatcha fuck up this time?"
I hung up.
That was a very liberating day for me. I learned I was not at fault for some of my recent behavior. I learned I was stronger than I thought I was and I learned that my mother was unhealthy for me.
I took advantage of those three days of intense therapy to ultimately walk out of there free of her.
Ahhh my mother.
Almost every negative memory can somehow be traced back to her. Like a lot of kids, my mother was not Donna Reed, although her trying is the cause of a lot of our issues. She was not nice, not nurturing, not present and not good for me. For many, my stories involving my mother seem unfathomable. But she, and her antics were very real. It wasn't until she said the phrase "whatcha fuck up this time" that I finally had enough. Enough of her, of justifying her behavior towards me, and allowing her to hurt me.
I checked myself into a mental health facility back in 2001. I had had a doctor that apparently thought it was a good idea to combine medications that should never have been taken together. The side effects were not only unsafe, but down right scary. I was hallucinating, homicidal and manic. I was also a mom with kids to care for. I tried to shut it up, off, whatever. I drank to calm myself down. I made poor choices most definitely.
Eventually I checked myself in voluntarily for three days to safely get off the drugs, or at least figure out what was going on.
On my first day with the doctor he asked if I wanted to call anyone. I said I would like to call my mother to make sure she was aware of what was happening and to make sure she was making herself available if need be for the kids. The doctor called her number and introduced himself. He said "your daughter is inpatient at blah blah blah hospital currently receiving mental health treatment and would like to speak to you".
He handed me the phone.
I said "Hey". She said "Whatcha fuck up this time?"
I hung up.
That was a very liberating day for me. I learned I was not at fault for some of my recent behavior. I learned I was stronger than I thought I was and I learned that my mother was unhealthy for me.
I took advantage of those three days of intense therapy to ultimately walk out of there free of her.
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