Broken Hearts…

It is true, I could never, ever hate my kids. But, I can sure not like them, and not like the things they say and do. And I never have to be sorry about that.
It is true, I could never, ever hate my kids. But, I can sure not like them, and not like the things they say and do. And I never have to be sorry about that.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING can break a heart faster than a child can. I’m not talking about a young child, I’m talking about an adult child who you love with all your heart. Said child(ren) has grown up fairly arrogant and think they know absolutely everything, and that you (their parent knows nothing at all). The children are in their 30’s now, living their lives, and doing their thing, and you are happy for them. Suddenly it dawns on you that you are getting older, you are beginning to feel vulnerable in the world, and the kids are the people you kind of think might be there for you when you get older and can’t anymore.

I have discovered it was all a dream. And not a very realistic one at that. My older kids show about as much compassion as the perpetrators in their life showed them. As you might realize that means just about naught. There is no empathy. No attempts to try and walk in our shoes. No apologies. Not even, “I’m sorry you feel that way” —which doesn’t admit anything, but shows a tad little bit of compassion. I do feel let down. I’ve been to court for my kids and fought and fought and fought for them. I don’t expect much from them, as they have proven that I dare not. But, I never expected a proverbial kick in the teeth either.

For my oldest, I worked with the detectives and d.a. and got a perpetrator thrown in jail. I complained to anyone that would listen (senators, congressmen, judges, sheriffs, district attorney, police….) trying to make sure he did not get out on her 8th birthday. That was to no avail. But, I tried.

I fought to keep them safe from their father, that I eventually realized was abusive. I fought and fought and fought for them. At this point they agree that he was abusive. So, abusive that he took her and ran for about six years. When I found them each time, and made it known that I wanted to check on my child, he picked up and ran again. And I do mean, he’d pull her out of school that day to run. Literally.

My 2nd one down whom became the third one down after an adoption is bi polar and autistic. At ages 4, & 5 (approximately) he’d come home repeating the things he heard his father say before the father ran. Through tears I heard how “daddy is going to kill you, mommy, and throw you in the desert where no one can find you….and then Tina is going to adopt me.” Kids this age just do not make this stuff up. He could barely pronounce adoption….he was really just a little guy. And he was already showing signs of having issues… he needed absolutely Zero percent of this abusive treatment from his father. Between his mental illness, and his treatment by his father, and hate to say it, treatment by any man I have tried to have a relationship with, they single him out, and really treat him like shit. So, he too, has grown up with a lot of problems, and again, I have fought and fought and fought for him. I.E.P, Child protective services, etc…. I gave him up to the state to get him treatment when I could not longer control him. That was an absolute painful act of love. It was one of the hardest things I ever did in my life. But at the time, I was worried that I was raising ‘Charlie Manson #2’ — something had to be done.

My adopted one. Now the #2, is someone that I felt very special for.
For me she was in a class all of her own. And you talk about side blinded. I never saw today coming. Not in the least. I think because of her, she is where most of my heartache, my heart break comes from.

With my oldest, its easy to see she’d picked up a lot of anger along the way. A LOT of anger. She is dysfunctional to say the least. A functional dysfunctional. But, between her anger and her arrogance (both of which comes from father and prior step mother attitude) — it is what drives her on in life. I knew we would reach a point where I could not live with it anymore. I reached my point. Where she basically attacked me over social media, and disrespected me and my husband in our own home. And she is not capable of even saying, “I’m sorry you feel that way mom.” That is the sad part for me.

A literal broken heart, ….. that is what my kids have given me.

For months now, I have been telling my significant other that I have a broken heart. When drs. started realizing that there is something wrong with my heart, I’ve been telling them that I have a broken heart. No one heard me until today. My cardiologist was looking yet again at my stress test. His answer today was, “You know, you just might be right, I think you’ve had a heart attack.” My answer, “Dr. I have never been diagnosed with a heart attack.” So, now we get more tests, I am waiting to be scheduled now. I need more blood work, and IF I have had a heart attack then, I need different kind of medical care. But, the doctor showed me on the pictures the dead part of my heart. I saw it with my own eyes. And I am pretty sure now, with thought, that I know just when it happened.

I know, exactly when it happened. When I was hurting the worst over those two angry girls, my 1st & 2nd. I have decided at this point, that we’ll probably never make up. Either way, the pain is real and it is there.
Neither of them realize just how much of me, is invested in them.
I don’t think I could make up now, if I wanted to. I’d be afraid they’d be willing to be just as compassionate and sympathetic — caring as they have been these past couple of years. The truth is, if I were to go through it again, they’d probably kill me. Other than the fact, that I had to learn to let go (again)….. I just can’t go through that again. They are too willing to be very hurtful. I am not willing to hurt. Although, I have to say, my heart will be broken and will hurt literally, for the rest of my life.

I do not hate them, I simply can’t take the pain. I am worn out. I have fought all my life in a kind of survival mode, first for myself as an abused child. My father raped me and had a lot of fun torturing me. Then raped again (In every conceivable way) by the first husband. Then again, by a boyfriend….his was mostly emotional and mental manipulation but it is just as bad as any physical abuse. While this is going on, I’m fighting for my kids.

Today I fight with hubby #2, over the kids. The crap never ends. There is a good chance that we’ll be going our separate ways, as I just can not take the stress anymore. period.

I have let go. I love all my kids, but I will not let them walk all over me or abuse me. Since at this point, there is no trust, and probably never will be again, in my mind I basically have two kids now. Now I put the ink to paper to try as a way of releasing the the harmful and unhealthy mush that has been holding me down literally for years. I can’t live with it anymore. I have to let it go.

At the same time, I can finally get it out, and say it out loud, I find out that I literally do have a broken heart. And I told the doctor it is probably because of my kids. And I have been saying it for months. Probably a couple of years now. I hope they are happy, that they literally, laid on the last straw that broke their mothers physical heart.

The bottom line, how they make me feel, after all that was done for them. Do I expect anything from them? Not really, nothing but a little respect. And I’ll never feel that I am wrong. RESPECT ~

About PeggyAnn

Professional PC Consultant, Researcher, & avid people watcher, Peggy Ann Rowe started into her genealogical quest at age 15 after watching the mini-series, "Roots" with her parents. This new obsession has fueled her love of history, & study of cultures & societies in every epoch. Today she is 57 years old with four kids who are all grown up (& all have flown the coop). In between her 'gigs' with clients she volunteered at many different non-profits. Former President, Secretary, and Director at Large on the board of the Douglas County Historical Society for 10+ years, and former Secretary at the Cloverdale Historical Society (Sonoma County) for nearly 10 years. This website is an attempt to share the knowledge she has gained about her family ties with others who may be interested in the same things. She does not guarantee 100% accuracy and does hope that you will send corrections. To learn more about her, click the "about" button in the page menu. Thanks! Another goal of this website is to disseminate a message (i.e. education) about domestic violence, child abuse, and all forms of sexual abuse to society at large. The message comes from real experience from the whole spectrum of the violence from sexual abuse by a perpetrator to sexual abuse perpetrated by a husband, to the abuse of children within the family. Peggy has seen it, lived it, and been hurt by it. There will on occasion be details that might be hard for some people to read, and a warning is usually posted at the beginning of the essay so that those who want to turn and not read may do so. The only way to teach and to let others learn what to avoid is to SHARE what happened with every detail necessary to make the point. Thank you.
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