The Hardest Thing I've Ever Done.

I wasn’t born into a family, I was born into a lifestyle. My parents were never together. My dad took off a lot, my mom hooked up with different men, while both had a drinking and drug problem. I never actually lived with my dad but visited when I was allowed to. My mom had full custody of me from day one, which eventually turned into none.

So as my mom raised me for about ten years, I watched men come in and out of our house and her life. As I watched, I knew it wasn’t right. I may have only been about seven or eight years old, but I knew. I knew it wasn’t right. When my grandparents took me in, I watched my sister do the same thing with her life. Got in the wrong relationships, slept around, and eventually gave herself that reputation, ending up homeless. I told myself as we were getting older that I would never let myself do that. I remember telling my mom and my sister that they were stupid for letting some guy take advantage of them, burn bridges, and make mistakes.

I have multiple stories I could tell you where some random guy came walking out of our bathroom not even knowing who I was or where he was. I have many stories I could tell you of when my sister called needing money because she got into some trouble. I could sit here and explain to you the many times I woke up to our apartment smelling like weed and smoke. But I won't. Sitting here writing out the stories of me not having a childhood won’t make me feel better, nor will it be satisfying. But, I will tell one story. The one story that made me see my mom for who she really is.

My grandparents and I walk into the big wide double doors of the Rehabilitation center. The lady waves us in from the front desk. Usually everyone has to check in, but since it’s a special day we just walk on back. I can hear people cheering and singing from down the hallway. I take the lead and walk down the hallway as I feel the presence of my grandparents behind me. I can spot the group of women at the end of the hallway clapping as we enter the big open spacious room. Everyone is circling around holding hands and I see my mom standing in the center. She has the biggest smile on her face with tears of happiness rushing down her cheeks. The lady to the left of me, closest to the door, grabs my hand to hold it. I don’t know who she is, but she starts to sing…

“Sometimes in our lives we all have pain. We all have sorrow. But if we are wise we know that there’s always tomorrow”

Looking at my mom with a feeling of anxiety bursting out of my chest, I start tearing up. Everyone’s stomping their feet on the beat of the song. I don’t know how to contain myself so I just start crying. They continue...

“Lean on me, when you’re not strong. And I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on. For it won’t be long. ‘Til I’m gonna need...Somebody to lean on”

My grandparents walked in slowly behind me. I just take their hands as they join the circle of the roughly estimated 60 women. My mom is still standing there singing her heart out to the rest of the lyrics. I’d never seen her look so beautiful before. She walks up to the three of us giving us all a hug. She pulls me in the center of the circle with her. We sing the last part together…

“You just call on me brother, when you need a hand. We all need somebody to lean on. I just might have a problem that you’ll understand. We all need somebody to lean on”

Right there and then, I knew my mom was who she was supposed to be. A mother, a friend, a daughter, a sister and everything in between. We both stood there in the center of the circle crying. Standing there, bawling my eyes out as I wrapped my arms around her neck. “I’m so proud of you mom, I’ve never been so proud”.

My mom finally beat her demons and let herself be the change. The drugs, alcohol, pills, and everything else were gone. Behind her and in the past. I was crying tears of happiness.

That day still brings me the biggest smile to my face because I can remember it like it was yesterday. That story still gives me goosebumps as I imagine walking in the room full of people cheering on my mom for her accomplishments. That’s the one story I have to tell…and here’s why.

I let it happen. I let it happen for four years, and that my friends, is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I met a guy, fell in love, went through abuse, had a beautiful little boy, and left him. It wasn’t leaving that was the hardest, but the actual relationship. Putting myself through hell for four years was so stupid of me. I probably should have left the second he introduced himself to me, but what would be the fun in that. It was the emotional pain I felt for days while he was gone, so I told myself to just leave him. It was the fights we got into while he was coming down from drugs that I knew I should have left. It was the night he literally strangled me in the kitchen, that I knew I should have left. It was the way he guilted me back into loving him even though I knew it was wrong; that I also knew I should have left, but I didn’t.

Putting myself through such a heartbreaking time was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I knew it was wrong but I always found some reason to stay. Every time. Putting yourself through so much emotional crap on purpose is like breaking your own heart.

The day I stood there in the middle of that circle with my mom crying because she wanted to be better, healed my heart. To this day I still go back to that day where we cried tears of happiness. Because she decided that pills, drugs, and alcohol weren’t going to run her life anymore, that that was one of the easiest days of her life.

My own mother putting herself through six months of rehab, counseling, and help was the hardest thing she ever did. She never thought she would have achieved what she did there in a million years if it wasn’t for our help. I wouldn’t have gotten through the four years of trauma if it wasn’t for my mothers help twenty years later. Our pasts are different, the way our hearts broke were different, but our pain was the same.

It was the hardest thing for me to do because I wasn’t strong enough. Now that I’ve seen that pain and hurt comes in all different circumstances, I still wouldn’t change it for the world. I wouldn’t change those four years for anything.

I experienced a demon myself that I once hoped to never see. The same demons I watched my mom fight off, were the same ones that I let enter my life.

Moving forward in my life, I will not let this happen to my son. So I let those demons go and chose to say goodbye for the both of us. I will choose to not let my son experience anything even close to what I did. So I’m being strong enough for the both of us, even when he can’t be. Because that my friends, is the easiest thing I’ll ever do.