I am No One

I became an orphan when I was nine.  My mother gave me up for a bottle of gin, and then two and then three.

“My mother is an alcoholic” and they smile and nod and say “yes, my dad/mother/uncle/brother drinks a lot too.”

My mother was an Alcoholic. She would drink until she lost consciousness and threw up on herself. She would sit in her filth for days and days and somehow she managed to find herself exactly when my father was to come home. She managed to do that for him.  She couldn’t find it in herself to do that for me. She didn’t cook and clean and feed and protect and love me. But she could stop exactly when he was supposed to return.

“I never wanted a girl”, “You were found under a bush”, “If I ever leave your father, I wouldn’t take my children with me.” “I wish you weren’t so much like your father.” “I wish you weren’t so stubborn.” “Eres una puta” “I wish you were a better mother, thank god your children are smarter than you ever were.” “Mi hija está muerta para mi, yo no tengo una hija.”

I have done everything in my life just to go against everything she ever wanted for me.  Just to go against her. Just to fight against everything she stands for. I made a conscious decision to live my life that way. That is the choice I made. I have drilled into my children’s brains that I asked them to be in this world. I wanted them, I am honored that they chose me to be their mother. Am I assigning blame for who I turned out to be?

So my mother was a nasty alcoholic.  So she had two personalities. So I wasn’t her favorite. So she never wanted me.  Why would that make me who I am?

Because I don’t believe she did the best that she could with the tools that she was given? She gave up. She was a coward.  She didn’t turn out to be who she wanted to be so she ran away. She hid behind the stupor of alcohol. 

But I know better. Don’t I?  I know I have a “disorder”. I don’t want to be skin and bone.  I don’t want to be sick. I’m none of that. I want to be who I know I am.  This IS who I am. I am aware of it.  And I cannot blame my mother, my ex husband, the father of my boys, my brother, the world.

I am who I am because this is what I chose.  I don’t chose to be who my mother wants me to be.  I don’t choose to be “healthy” as you define it.  I choose to live my life as I believe I should.  Not as you define me: The Adult Child of an Alcoholic. The Survivor of Domestic Abuse. The Person in Recovery. The Woman with Lose Morals.

I chose to be who I am. I am aware of what I make of my life. I am aware of my strengths and my weaknesses and my oh-so-many, many flaws. And I chose this life because I understand it.  Not because you don’t.

I Am…No One. And we are all the same.