I Choose Me

My savior complex needs to go away

I had just turned 18 when my mother informed me that she was getting married and Congratulations!: You’re gonna be taking care of your younger brother (15)

Wow. No one asked me what my plans for the future were.

I had planned leaving Miami to go to college.

“Well, I guess I can put it off for a while. I need to step up and grow up and take care of this kid.”

So my mom said my dad would help us out a bit financially, and I could keep all the overpriced furniture she had leased and eventually paid for.

We found a very nice apartment (way too nice, cause we couldn’t really afford it)

I worked in a fast-food restaurant as an assistant manager running a Hardee’s that was in a High-Rise apartment building connected to Jackson Medical Center.

So I had food available for myself. I tried to make sure we had basics in the fridge, but It wasn’t easy. My brother was going to Vocational School, and he worked afterwards in a movie theater. I'm sure he had to fend for himself quite a bit as well.

Things were rough. Car broke down. Had to ride the bus for months.

I was afraid to tell anyone how bad I was struggling financially. My dad came to visit once and he moved us to a rental apartment that he had. It wasn’t a great investment, because it was in a terrible neighborhood, but the rent was way cheaper. At least we managed there. I could see the hookers soliciting business from my windows.

I’m trying to go to school during this time, but my boss suggested I drop my classes to take a promotion at a restaurant almost an hour away. It was a sacrifice, but I decided to step up and help. (see a pattern unfolding?)

Fast forward a few months: I’d been dating this girl for a few years-she was having trouble with her dad who was very controlling. She couldn’t leave his house, because she couldn’t really work, she was on a student visa.

“Hey, I could fix all that for her!” If we got married, I would fix her papers and she could work and It was all going to be great! I was pretty sure I was in love.

Well, after 4 years of struggle, one day she informed me we were done and I should move on!

I was devastated. Took me some time to get over it and then something pointed me to chiropractic school.

Chiropractic school was great, because I was by myself and doing something that I really enjoyed. I made great friends and all, but I think the best part is that I was doing it for ME.

Towards the end of my time in college I met this incredible girl with a great sense of humor and even though she was out of my league, here she was laughing at my jokes.

Never mind our core values are different, she’s into me. Let’s put a ring on it.

We had 2 great daughters, I was working hard-but it was never enough. I worked harder and longer hours, but then she complained I worked too much.

It sucks trying to please someone who always raises the bar. I sacrificed for her, I sacrificed for the kids. After all, Isn’t that what a good husband and father is supposed to do?

Well, after 13 years we split. I had fought against divorce for a while, because I had always said I would do “whatever It takes” to stay married. I felt like I didn’t try enough in my first marriage.

But she “was done.”

Life after the divorce was good. I saw my daughters much more than I expected. Then, their mother took a job out of town, which required her to move, so I moved into the house, and they lived with me.

My youngest daughter started developing mental health issues. At first it was an eating disorder, then experimenting with drugs and then she tried to “un-alive” herself.

Over the last 10 years, it has been one thing after the next, until I found myself in an abusive relationship. Not with a partner, but with my daughter.

I guess the trauma of finding her unconscious in the bathtub after she took pills has been etched in my brain and I have been tiptoeing trying to do something…anything to prevent that from happening again.

Recently, I attended a support group meeting (NAMI-National Alliance on Mental Illness) for family of people who suffer from mental illness. It was very eye-opening.

There was a 70-year old lady with a daughter in her 40’s who was an active drug user and in an abusive relationship with her daughter as well and I saw that would be my future unless I set boundaries.

So I did.

And it’s tough.

All I want to do is go rescue her and hug her and make it all better. But I can’t.

I'm writing this on Christmas Day, knowing she's alone.

It hurts.

I’m tired.

But today, I choose me.