This week, I had my therapist and a neuropsychologist refer me to trauma therapy.

No, not because of things that happened in my adult life. As traumatic as they are, I have been slowly working through those. However, I struggle most with my childhood.

This seems to be a repeating pattern. Every time I begin treatment with a mental health provider, I shut down when it comes time to talk about my childhood. My childhood is mostly black, and the memories that I do have are not positive. Unfortunately, it seems that the root of my issues is the relationship, or lack of, with my mother.

The long lasting effects of the childhood abuse has caused issues with myself and my own parenting. I see so much of myself in my children and I get triggered so easily because of it. When I look at my daughters, I cannot fathom ever saying the things that were said to me. I can’t imagine putting my hands on them the way my mother laid her hands on me. I hold them in my arms the way I wish I would have been held.

That’s a good thing right? Of course it is. For my children. But it is so mentally draining for myself. I am often reminded of the things I did not receive. And to be quite honest, I get jealous.

Those who know me personally know that my children have had to deal with traumatic experiences throughout their childhood. The guilt weighs down on me every day. I get so angry at myself sometimes because I feel like it could’ve been prevented had I had a different childhood. If I hadn’t been made to feel like I was worthless constantly, I wouldn’t have spent my adulthood believing that I was unworthy of positivity and love. Maybe things could’ve been different? I can’t change the past, but I really want to change the future for my daughters.

I know that I have received support from a multitude of people as an adult. And I am so so grateful. Even those who have told me that they were not helping me for me, but that they were helping me because of my daughters and their love for them. That’s OK. I’m thankful for them.

I am so grateful that my sister has stepped in various times in my life to help me with my children when she could while balancing her own struggles. That, even though she and I did not have a good relationship as children and estranged relationship as adults, she still was so selfless in her love. I am so thankful for my other sister and my aunt in Mexico, who also selflessly stepped in to help me in my times of need. I’m so thankful for my father, who continues to support & love me and my daughters whole heartedly through all of my mistakes. Thankful for my younger brother who has a big brother heart and spirit. Who has rescued me multiple times, especially with my car troubles. I’m thankful for my youngest brother who I have an estranged relationship with due to my mother. Thankful because I hold on to hope that I can one day have a relationship with him.

So many times I have been pointed towards trauma therapy, and I have ran. I was not ready to face the reality of my childhood. Quite frankly, I’m not sure if I ever will be. But what I do know is that I am desperately clinging onto hope that this could help me. I am so afraid. I don’t know if I want to know what happened. I’m afraid of repressed memories.

I have to do this though. I want to be a better mother. Right now I’m doing the best that I can but I know that my unresolved issues with my childhood will continue the weigh down on me.

So I’m going to try.

Wish me luck.