breakthrough? breakdown?

Last week, as I was playing Mom to Page during one of our lunch discussions, I had a breakthrough. Breakthrough? Breakdown? I was telling him about a little about the way I grew up, which was really terrible at times. No ten year old should have to call 911 because her mom was in the bathroom trying to kill herself.

I told him how the stepfather would disable the car, she couldn't go anywhere. Deserved at times, because when she did go, it was to get high.

Meals were never planned, always stopped at the grocery store day of, or something picked up.

One time, picking him up from work, she had his gun out of the holster (he was a police officer who sang in the gospel quartet on Sundays after a good beating Saturday nights) and was going to shoot him when he came back.

He was in the store, because she had no access to the checking account, and was given very limited access to cash. She had control over nothing. She did have possession of guilt. She got pregnant with Autumn, he left his wife and two boys, and it just never seemed to stop after that.

I wonder why it took me twenty years to put this together? I think it's time for another ride on the therapy train. I think I have done pretty well for my mental health, all things considering. But everyone needs a little help now and then.