Читать книгу The Problem Was Me - Thomas Ph.D. Gagliano - Страница 13

That inner voice, the warden, knew my vulnerability. Through my written inventories I discovered one of the many false messages he told me was that asking for help was a sign of weakness. He kept me away from the help I needed to heal. I struggled so long to find forgiveness and a spiritual connection. When I got down on my knees to pray, I felt paralyzed with shame and fear. The warden made it clear that I didn’t deserve the love of anyone, including God.

My mother was imprisoned by her warden as well. She regrets her actions just as I did mine. My father’s insanity created some of the insanity within my mother. Raising four children while dealing with my father’s behaviors was not easy. My mother lived in constant fear, never knowing my father’s whereabouts or when the next bomb would go off. Even with this chaos, my mother tried to hold things together as best as she could. She also made holidays and birthdays as special as possible. These are the memories that bring warmth to me, memories I’m happy to share with my children. My mother was nineteen when I was born, so in many ways she was a child herself. She, too, was hurting inside and looked for me to give her what she could not get from my father. Her fear of losing him sent her into self-survival. She was like a drowning person who would pull anyone down in her need to get air.

My mother’s father was a very kind and gentle man, but he was also an alcoholic, and alcoholism leaves emotional scars on loved ones. All of us from discouraged childhoods have our own warden, just as my mother did. If my mother could have found a support group, she might have allowed others to carry her through those difficult times when she felt so alone. She didn’t understand how her actions affected others. I also find it difficult, at times, to believe I was capable of doing what I did to those I loved the most. Today my mother is still a wonderful source of love and support for our children.