The Differences Between Us

Around my 1st wedding anniversary I truly believed there would be no 2nd. I have no wish to go into detail as things are private and sensitive, I need to consider my children`s feelings, however it is relevant in recording my story and recording my story is about being heard and healing, so I shall aim for honesty with discretion. 

In the first year of marriage I miscarried twice. You would hope that being emotionally close and comforting each other would help a couple to cope and heal. I`m trained as a carer and a people pleaser and am a nurturer by nature. I am not trained to expect love, emotional connection, support or loyalty, I`m not used to it so do not recognise its absence easily. I was so damaged I did not notice any imbalance between caring and being cared for but it slowly dawned on me that the comfort and support I readily gave was not reciprocated and that entertainment and distraction was being sort elsewhere, as grieving and apparently barren, I was just no fun any more and to rub a big handful of salt in the wound I was going to be treated worse than dirt because of it. So one foggy, frosty night when hardly anyone was out and about as the roads were death traps, I was so distressed that I got in my car and swerved through floods of tears, banks of fog and patches if ice, over to my parents house. Yes !!! That`s how desperate I was, I could not think straight and I went to the place I had never found an ounce of love or support looking for..... love and support. I remember standing in the doorway of the kitchen with my Father trying to cook their evening meal...at 9.30....and with tears rolling down my face I rambled something along the lines of....thought it was forever, miss my babies, whats the matter with me, I`ll loose him, what will become of me, I have no family, where will I go, I`ll be alone forever....etc..... to which he replied stony faced " Ahh well Amanda we`ve thought that ourselves...we`ve got no one either..." What ???.... Wiping my eyes and sniffling {remembering too late that crying was frowned upon} I watched him, I was thinking, how can you say that, you both had brothers and sisters and families who supported you, had a home for as long as you wanted one and had a child `just like that` despite my Mothers `I can`t have children story` you had Me,...how can your situation possibly be comparable to mine right now...? I collected myself and had a moment of clarity, why was I pleading with this man to play the role of a caring Father when he never had before. I wandered into the living room to find my Mother sitting with her chin in her hand, she scowled at me and said "An if ya split up Amanda, what about My money for that ouse...will he get alf?"..."I`ll make sure you get your money back if we do" I assured her and defeated I turned to leave....."OK then" my Father said behind me which doubled as goodbye. 
 That was the worse time of my life up to then. That chain of invents only served to underline my belief that I was worthless, useless, undeserving of love and loyalty. It also opened my eyes to the difference between my parents lives and family dynamics and my own. Many years later I went through a time where I was very angry that they treated me the way they had, on that particular night and all through my life, as it slowly occurred to me they had never had to cope with anything like the situations they readily placed me in. For the sake of speaking my truth, telling my story and hopefully finding some closure I need to record some comparisons here...

 I was an only child and never knew what it was like to have a sibling to share and bear witness to anything, or to have them to ask for help {or offer help too should the need ever have arisen} Father had his older brother and sister, his sister doting him and always having his best interests at heart. My Mother had 6 siblings and while she had a hard childhood there`s no doubt she got through it with their support and company. Neither were raised alone and isolated.

I was made to leave home at 18 and never had the luxury of firm roots and a place to return to where I was always welcome. From an early age I lived in some pretty dire places, sharing bathrooms and toilets and with all sorts for neighbours, a young woman alone. My Father lived at home with his family until he was in his 30`s, he then moved to his in law`s house when he married. My Mother also stayed at home and after I was born we all finally moved to a flat when I was 2, making her 40 when she eventually flew the nest. They then had a secure home always, moving to a house and then a bungalow in old age. They never knew the responsibility of a mortgage and rented from the council so even being out of work meant their home was safe.

At 18 I had to carefully budget to cover my living expenses and struggled to cover heating and food at times, worrying if I could meet all my financial commitments and holding down a full time job to ensure I did. My Father and Mother were both housed, cooked and cared for until well into their 30`s, he just needed to pay a little board and if Mother got fired for being late all the time, which I`m told happened more than once, her 2 bachelor brothers generously helped her out {at times to avoid a tantrum I`m sure}.So no real make or break financial obligations then.

 So how the Hell then when I tell of my fear of possibly never having children, being alone in the future with no family and being homeless yet again could he reply..

""Ahh well Amanda we`ve thought that ourselves...we`ve got no one either"

What a classic and blatant example of how they refused to ever see my pain and fear or find a scrap of empathy for me and yet easily reference themselves as having had it tough. 

She, well she`d always been the same, she had a personality disorder after all but as for him....he became as cold and distorted in his thinking as her as the years passed by, which is worse really as he had once been `such a lovely young man` as his sister had told me.