Trigger Warning – Mention of suicide, mention of body issues
Content Warning – Mental Health
Dear Momma: You Tried Your Best
Momma,
You tried your best. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mom, but you did the best with what you had. You had three pretty cool kids, if I do say so myself. Maybe you were just too young, too vulnerable, too proud to admit that you needed help through it all. It’s okay though, we still love you and try to keep your memory alive.
I never thought growing up that I wouldn’t have you around. I’ve lived more of my life without you than with. When I was told that you had died by suicide, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t believe it and it just seemed like a bad dream. Just know though that I had a wonderful support system around me. The family, my friends, my school, they all took great care of me. You’d like a lot of them!
I wasn’t sure if I’d even get married and have kids because I thought “if she can’t be happy and this is how relationships are, why would I want that?” I didn’t have the dreams other girls have of the big wedding and 3.5 kids in a big suburb house. I was the independent girl you raised me to be and that was okay. As much as I loved and missed you, I didn’t need you. You taught me to take care of myself and not need anyone. Then Ryan came along and somehow managed to get me to at least try. You’d like him. We ended up having a girl and named her after you and Nana. And boy, is she the opposite of me as a child! She is loud, and goofy, and so confident.
I see a lot of you in me sometimes. I try to be fun and goofy and carefree. I want Ren to have all the fun and silly memories of me like I do of you. You didn’t take yourself too seriously and I’ve learned that’s a great attitude to have, especially in this current World.
But, I also learned how not to be a mom from you. As much as I loved you and our time together, I try to be more present and more patient with Ren. Maybe it’s because the only thing I deal with is situational anxiety and not what you were dealing with. Maybe you were bipolar, maybe you were depressed, but you needed help and I wish it would’ve been available. I still have outbursts of “anger,” but I catch myself and try to walk away or take a breath and start over. I also make sure that she doesn’t see my body/food issues. I always wanted to be taller and skinnier, just like you. It lead to a lot of body issues that, unfortunately, you helped form. I don’t want Ren seeing that. I want her to have a healthy relationship with her body and food.
I didn’t want to tell people for the longest time what happened with you. Not because I was ashamed, but because I didn’t want to make them uncomfortable or make them think that I was vulnerable. I know now, though, that it has to be talked about. I share my experience so others will be able to recognize patterns and help their loved ones if they have to. If you had someone to talk to, things would be a lot different and I wouldn’t be writing this right now. You’d probably like therapy actually. I love having someone to talk to and honestly wish I could go more just to talk. Why do I need to have something wrong to do this?? I want to complain about the bad drivers and state of the world with a professional!
I don’t remember us celebrating Mother’s Day a lot. Maybe cards from school, but that’s all I can think of. For me, it’s like Valentine’s Day; a made up holiday that doesn’t need to exist. I don’t need a day to tell you I love you or be pampered, although I do wish I would’ve told you more.
You’d be proud of Tiff and Rich. Tiff has 2 boys and is a lot like you, but stronger. The stuff she’s dealt with would make any person crack, but somehow that quiet, petite, curly haired kid just breezes through it. She handles some of it better than I would. Rich is just living his best life right now. He’ll probably get married and have kids soon, but he’s still goofy and quiet; just a lot taller now! I hope you’d be proud of everything that we’ve accomplished given the cards we were dealt.
Please know that I don’t blame you. I blame the systemic belief that mental health was a stigma then and “not normal” and that it meant something was wrong with you. I also blame your exes who weren’t a) (wo)man enough to tell you that things weren’t going to work out instead of just peacing out one day and b) blackmailing you for custody of two of your children. If teenage me could have had words with them, I would’ve gone off! If adult me could talk to them, it would probably be more of a lecture of how horrible they were and that I hope they never have someone do that to their daughters.
I miss you. I love you. And I hope one day to see you again.
Rachael
