In a world that often seemed devoid of constants, my life began under the watchful eye of an aged father whom was 80 years old at my and a troubled mother. My father, a man whose years spanned eight decades, brought me into a life that was anything but ordinary. My mother, a woman battling her own demons, set the stage for a childhood rife with turmoil and confusion.
The early years were a chaotic tapestry, woven with threads of my mother’s alcoholism and erratic behavior. Memories of being mocked and exposed as a toddler during her drunken states are etched deeply in my psyche, leaving behind a trail of emotional scars. My siblings, entangled in their own struggles with drugs, legal issues, and the aftermath of a dysfunctional upbringing, offered little refuge from the storm.
My father, the pillar of faith and a beacon of hope, left us too soon and to my eyewitness. His passing in 2007 was a silent thunderclap, echoing through the void he left behind. His absence was a harbinger of even darker days, as my mother’s addiction spiraled out of control. I found myself repeatedly on the phone with emergency services, trying to save her from herself, a role reversal no child should ever have to face. I grew up quick. No time to be a child, these people need me to intervene to save them.
Unfortunately, the misfit parents launched me into
The foster system, where I sought sanctuary, only perpetuated the cycle of abuse and neglect. It was in these moments of despair that I learned the harshest truths about trust and betrayal.
Beaten in the foster homes, and physical and verbal abuse continued. I got back to my regular home after my mother managed to get it together long enough to fool the interviews and got us back. My father was too old to care for us they said, but, little did they know placed me into an more dangerous place furthering my trauma. When I arrived back after 6 months, That is when my father passed. I knew i would do anything to save my mother after witnessing my father's passing at 9. As I reflect, I was lied too, manipulated, verbally abused, and the actual scapegoat of everyone. Yet, I still chose kindness too each and every person. I remained in the environment with the choice to leave to a better future, having an insight that my time with my mother would be short-lived.
But it was in her final days that my mother uttered a truth that pierced through the years of deceit and manipulation. As we prepared to say our final goodbyes, she confessed with a sincerity and fear I had never heard before, "I will never drink again." Her words, laden with a tragic irony, were the only true ones she ever spoke, as she passed away the very next day. This moment, a twisted lesson from the universe, became a catalyst for my own vow to renounce alcohol forever.
Emerging from the shadow of my mother’s legacy, I ventured into a relationship that mirrored the only love I knew – chaotic and tumultuous. Yet, after six tumultuous years, I found the resolve to step away, to seek a healthier path. I did so, and we are back together with a better understanding of behaviors that will not be tolerated. We are happy, and nothing but positive interactions since then. I hope it stays that way, but I am strong enough to leave at moment. A choice is all we have. My choice today was to share my story with you guys.
After 20 years of hell, my life is getting better at the age of 27.
I have accomplished the following:
Within one year of joining the workforce, I was promoted to Front Office Manager. During my time, I set records that nobody has hit before. 2 years later, I was promoted to assistant general manager.
I was selected among my peers as an emerging leader, and I just graduated in December my companies year long emerging leaders program. During this program, I gave a presentation on recognition, and offered perspective on peoples escape from traumatic homes into what we as leaders have the power to create a loving positive atmosphere, and how each leader in this room has the power to make or shape someones life in a good or bad way. Some people work to escape. Some people have never been taught to cope. That person who works hard everyday smiling you did not know that he just lost everything and is struggling to keep it together and stay alive, and that good job you told him kept him going that day.
People won't remember what you did for them, but they will remember how you made them feel. I will never let anyone under my watch undergo what I did, and I will be a voice for the voiceless, and an spotlight for the wicked. I will continue to do good and treat people kindly despite a world cruel and seemingly twisted. I had a friend reach out to me, and say he was extremely sorry for how he treated me growing up. I just thought it was normal to be treated as such in friendships. I forgive him. Society has a way of making you do things you don't want to do for fun or enjoyment. I hold no ill feelings towards anyone who has done me wrong, for they have contributed to the being i am today. Interactions good or bad. I forgive all, and may they find happiness in their life as I seek today.
As I reflect on these accomplishments these past five years even in the face of losing my mother, I have never once told myself good job and instead I focused on what's next. As I pause and reflect, I think, What am i doing this for? Who am I trying to impress? If I fail, its only me that sees. The feeling to call your mother or father when you accomplish something is part to do as to why I feel like an empty shell of a being after this life has tossed and twisted me. My mothers sudden passing, well, she got it easy. She didn't have to deal with any of the consequences of her actions upon me. While the hardships have ended, the ability to form simple relationships and not feel paranoid that they are using MLB or that people are out to get me, has not faded. But you know what? It didn't get the best of me. And so the battle of hardship has completed, now begins a journey of healing. Undoing years of this. I figure i won't be fully healed for another ten years. Its ok to not be a normal contributor some days.
I feel like I don't have much time to actually relish on the happy moments. C-PTSD has caused me to rush to fulfill a full life and get old and pass away. I need to be in the moment. My ability to form relationships with full trust has been compromised, but, I'm trying each day. My mental illness makes my leadership more complicated and riskier to the corporate structure, but I'll tell you what I lead with more empathy and understanding then those I lead can ever know the grasp of.
The emptiness I feel each day, I will try to fill with the positive impact I create. While I can't fix the people my mother's wrath created, I can however stop the cycle and be so kind to a world so cruel that it makes an actual impact.
Heres to filling our stomachs back up.
thank you for reading, and may you find happiness and joy today. Fill your stomachs back up one glass at a time.
-tb
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