One pack of photos was of my Mum, lying on our sofa. There were lots of photos, and my Mum is wearing different clothes so they weren't taken at the same time.
We had a typical of the time living room: A three seater settee, and two armchairs. There were 5 of us.
The photos brought back some very unhappy memories. My Mum used to come home from work, and then she'd lie on the sofa across 3 seats, and that was it. Mum didnt care what it meant to the rest of us, she had no interest in us ir engaging with us, she was entirely consumed by her own unhappiness.
I realise now she was suffering from depression, she was very unhappy with her life and made sure we all knew it.
I don't know how long this went on for. In my memory, it was a looiooooong time. I'd guess a year or so. Maybe longer, maybe less.
That was the point where I made the decision that I wouldn't have children of my own, because my mum.had said that children ruin your life.
At that young age, I also realised that it was not good for people to stay together when one of them wanted to be somewhere else.
It was such an unhappy time. There was more that happened that I just can't share, although I dont suppose it matters any more. My Dad isnt here now to discover secrets that I've kept. Like that time when my mum tried to get me to agree to go and live with her when I clearly had no idea it meant leaving my dad. The whole thing had such a profound affect on me, and the anger and bewilderment I felt as a child is overwhelming me even as I type this.
It was painful to be reminded of it by the photos. I was transported back to that time and to the feelings of inadequacy and confusion, and extreme unhappiness and powerlessness
As a child I eventually managed to squash it all into a locked chest, deep in my stomach. I buried it, really well.
I hid it for a long time. Although unacknowledged, it festered and fermented
My parents eventually sorted things out and had a long and mostly happy marriage.
For me though, the decision about not having children remained; and the poison from the suppressed feelings and memories eventually escaped their containment and robbed the carefree joy from the girl in the earlier post.
The feelings unleashed today overtook me like an avalanche.
This time, I won't let the feelings suffocate me. Acknowledging them, writing down the fact that I had them -that I am having them - is part of trying to deal with it.
It was a long time ago.
It doesn't matter any more.
I can't go back and change anything.
Picking over it is pointless.
I just need to put the feelings in a rucksack, and then take off the rucksack leave the rucksack at the side of the road while I walk away.
