I came to a realization today. A pretty philosophical one. And it has to do with my birth mother, Diane Holyoak. (A.K.A. Kelly Carter). A teenage party girl not ready for life let alone a baby. I was hard on her. She apparently had 3 chances to get me back but didn't show up to the court case and that's why I was eventually put into care. And that's how I was eventually adopted into the Morgan family in (August) 1965. I was just under 2 years old. (I was born in September of 1963).

Now even though I have no complaints about my placement into the Morgan family, it's the time before and after I struggled with in life. The Morgans were good people and tried their best with me. They were loving and middle class and christians. To this day, I only look back in fondness to my childhood days in Bramalea Ontario with the Morgans.

But mental illness - along with childhood trauma - is what I suffered with my whole life. Now I need to be clear about this. When I talk about childhood trauma I am NEVER talking about the Morgans. No trauma there. I am talking about the first year I spent with my mother in her childhood home on Old Weston Road in Toronto. Through past therapy I have come to realize there was abuse in that home. But my philosophy has always been "If you don't remember it, it can't hurt you". I have since learned it can. But heres my big epiphany. If I suffered trauma in that home in my first year of life, then my mother suffered it to. And for a lot longer. I have always known that she had a very difficult upbringing. But I always left it vague in my mind as to what it was. I guess it was easier for  me that way. Turn away.

But she was abused. Not only in her home but she was also sent to the Gult Reformatory for girls in Gult/Guelph Ontario. Sentenced for being 'incorrigible' no really it says right in the report - incorrigible. And she was imprisoned for 3 YEARS! This was in the late 1960's. It was later learned that the girls suffered terrible abuse at the hands of the reformatory. Infact there was a huge lawsuit that later transpired. My mother came out of there with a scar on her face from her temple down to her chin from a glass bottle. Self inflicted. The frustration of her situation caused her to breakdown and cut her own face with a glass bottle. There was a lot more that I wont get into because it's not what was done to her. It's how it effected her. And THAT is what I have been neglecting for 61 years. And finally I have come to the peace that my mother did the best she could with what she had and what she knew. But with how she suffered in life,... she just didn't have the tools or the skills. Her situation was always bleak and she always struggled. She got blamed a lot. So she lost people in her life. In the end she fled to the mountains of British Columbia. She had a trailer up near 22 mile lake. She lived - off-grid - and happy with her pets. She fled life because life got too hard and she couldn't cope. 

This is all sounding very familiar. So,... for all my life I kept my mother at arms length to protect myself. I didn't actually know WHO she was until I was in my teens. I didn't actually speak to her until I was in my thirties. But upon future incidents I ended up severing all ties and moving on. I'm sure that really hurt her.

The epiphany? I am my Mother. I struggled,... people left,... I hid from life because I couldn't cope anymore. MY children cut all ties to protect themselves and THAT hurt ME. I have recycled my mother in myself. Both of us with mental illness. Both of us with situations that aren't ideal and hard to navigate. Both of us just couldnt' seem to do it. She fled to the mountains of BC with her animals. I have sequestered myself away inside my apartment unit. Both of us fed up of the hardships of life and too old to cope anymore. 

I realize this now. My mother did the best she could. I wish she were alive today so I could tell her I get it now. Life is harder as you get older. You are all full of piss and vinegar when your young and you can do anything you put your mind to. But in your senior years the fight is gone. You just want peace. And with this time period comes wisdom. I have learned so much in the past few years. And one of those lessons was, I didn't give my mother the honest shot she deserved. She was an alcoholic and mentally ill and would phone at 3 in the morning drunk,... but she was my mother. Did I not do exactly what MY children did to me? Throw her away because she was too much for me at that time. I was a youg mother trying to live a healthy life when she entered into it. I didn't need this. And THERE IT IS,... what everyone tells themselves when they have a mentally ill loved one. "I don't need this". I guess my situation was a little different as I didn't know my mother until I was in my 30's whereas I raised my two girls. But either way,... we all threw away our mother.

Huge lesson to learn. And too late to apologize to my mother. She went to her grave alone,... (sound familiar?) Thinking her child hated her,... (sound familiar?) and never meeting her grandchildren,... (sound familiar?) I eventually walked those exact same footsteps. I am alone and will die alone,... my children don't want me in their lives and I will die knowing this,... I will die never meeting my grandchild,... hauntingly familiar. 

And all of this just leaves me feeling sad. Wisdom in life often comes too late,...

Diane Holyoak