Losing "Peter"
This story is very difficult for me because I have so many regrets about the way I raised Peter.
Peter was the first of my four children. From the moment he was born we were inseparable. When he smiled, he lit up the room. I was a very devoted mother and we were very close.
After a few years, I gave birth to my second child, Daniel. He was an extremely difficult child who cried day and night. I started to feel overwhelmed. Since Peter seemed so capable, I thought he had it all together. I didn’t think I had to worry about him. That was my first mistake and the point where I began to lose Peter.
When Daniel was nine months old, I became pregnant with Nicole. My former husband did not participate in child care responsibilities and, as a result, I became extremely stressed out. The children also had to endure many violent outbursts from their father, including both verbal and mental abuse.
Peter was nine when I divorced his father. I was thirty nine years old and alone with my three children for a year and a half. Then I met my present husband, Rudy. Since he did not have any children, he wanted a child of his own. I was blessed and became pregnant with my beautiful son, Alexander.
During my pregnancy, my youngest son, Daniel had behavioral problems and needed most of my attention. Rudy had his own issues learning to deal with his new blended family. My daughter Nicole was my perfect child and she never complained but it was a difficult time period for Peter and my other children. They were still dealing with the divorce and they now had to face a whole new life, which included a lot of chaos and drama. During this difficult time period, I was emotionally unavailable for Peter.
Peter began to spend almost every weekend with his best friend, who lived several towns away. That was the point when I willingly gave up control of Peter. I was being pulled in so many directions by everyone who needed me. I felt like I had nothing left to give and that Peter was getting all of his much needed attention from another family.
When Peter was 14 years old, he decided he would rather live at his dad’s. Alex was a toddler at that time and Daniel’s struggles were increasing. Peter felt that he could no longer deal with the issues at home. Peter’s dad, who would benefit financially, encouraged him to live with him. I told him that he was making a huge mistake and that his dad was violent and abusive, but I didn’t stop Peter. I was his legal guardian and could have said no, but I didn¹t. I was too tired to fight. It was the easy thing to do, not the right thing to do. One of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t stop Peter from going to live with his dad. I could have put my foot down and stopped him from going, but I didn’t.
Peter lived with his dad through high school. His grades deteriorated. He went from a straight A student in middle school to a C-D student who barely attended school. Although I had a feeling that something was terribly wrong, Peter never spoke about what happened in his dad’s home. My children lived by an unspoken rule that nobody told on dad no matter how abusive he was, or they would deal with his horrible wrath. Peter’s weight escalated during this time period.
Peter went off to college, UCF, but he hated it. He left after a few months and returned to his dad’s house. My inner voice told me it was not good for Peter to live with his dad. I never had the courage to ask Rudy if Peter could live with us because at that point in my life I did not have a career and was financially and emotionally dependent on my new husband. I felt that it would have cost me my marriage. I fooled myself and rationalized that if the situation got too out of hand, Peter would tell me what was going on.
During this terrible time in Peter’s life, he turned to drugs. He went into a rehab facility, where he was placed into a trauma unit, when he was 19. It was there that it was discovered that he was considered one of the most abused individuals. Peter came out of rehab and began to rebuild his life. I got him an apartment and he started school at Broward College.
My relationship with Peter has been strained. I have apologized to him many times, explaining to him that I was a much weaker person then. I regret that I let him live with his dad . At that time, I was a needy, dependant woman who was under the control of very domineering men. I still cannot believe the choices a dependant woman will make, even when it comes to the well being of her own children.
Peter is back out of rehab, although he has relapsed twice. Our relationship is better, but still cordial. There is an unspoken awkwardness between Peter and myself. I still cannot make peace with what happened to Peter. I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself. I am trying to provide encouragement to Peter by providing any means of support, either financial or emotional, as long as Peter is also working toward the solution.
The road to forgive myself is long and hard and I can’t imagine what it must be like for Peter. I have never gotten over what happened to him. It happened one day at a time, and days turned into years. For any mother reading this, your children are the most important things in your life-- keep them close to you. I didn’t do that, and it remains the most painful lesson I have ever learned in my life.
Barbara Theodosiou
www.theaddictsmom.com
Peter was the first of my four children. From the moment he was born we were inseparable. When he smiled, he lit up the room. I was a very devoted mother and we were very close.
After a few years, I gave birth to my second child, Daniel. He was an extremely difficult child who cried day and night. I started to feel overwhelmed. Since Peter seemed so capable, I thought he had it all together. I didn’t think I had to worry about him. That was my first mistake and the point where I began to lose Peter.
When Daniel was nine months old, I became pregnant with Nicole. My former husband did not participate in child care responsibilities and, as a result, I became extremely stressed out. The children also had to endure many violent outbursts from their father, including both verbal and mental abuse.
Peter was nine when I divorced his father. I was thirty nine years old and alone with my three children for a year and a half. Then I met my present husband, Rudy. Since he did not have any children, he wanted a child of his own. I was blessed and became pregnant with my beautiful son, Alexander.
During my pregnancy, my youngest son, Daniel had behavioral problems and needed most of my attention. Rudy had his own issues learning to deal with his new blended family. My daughter Nicole was my perfect child and she never complained but it was a difficult time period for Peter and my other children. They were still dealing with the divorce and they now had to face a whole new life, which included a lot of chaos and drama. During this difficult time period, I was emotionally unavailable for Peter.
Peter began to spend almost every weekend with his best friend, who lived several towns away. That was the point when I willingly gave up control of Peter. I was being pulled in so many directions by everyone who needed me. I felt like I had nothing left to give and that Peter was getting all of his much needed attention from another family.
When Peter was 14 years old, he decided he would rather live at his dad’s. Alex was a toddler at that time and Daniel’s struggles were increasing. Peter felt that he could no longer deal with the issues at home. Peter’s dad, who would benefit financially, encouraged him to live with him. I told him that he was making a huge mistake and that his dad was violent and abusive, but I didn’t stop Peter. I was his legal guardian and could have said no, but I didn¹t. I was too tired to fight. It was the easy thing to do, not the right thing to do. One of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t stop Peter from going to live with his dad. I could have put my foot down and stopped him from going, but I didn’t.
Peter lived with his dad through high school. His grades deteriorated. He went from a straight A student in middle school to a C-D student who barely attended school. Although I had a feeling that something was terribly wrong, Peter never spoke about what happened in his dad’s home. My children lived by an unspoken rule that nobody told on dad no matter how abusive he was, or they would deal with his horrible wrath. Peter’s weight escalated during this time period.
Peter went off to college, UCF, but he hated it. He left after a few months and returned to his dad’s house. My inner voice told me it was not good for Peter to live with his dad. I never had the courage to ask Rudy if Peter could live with us because at that point in my life I did not have a career and was financially and emotionally dependent on my new husband. I felt that it would have cost me my marriage. I fooled myself and rationalized that if the situation got too out of hand, Peter would tell me what was going on.
During this terrible time in Peter’s life, he turned to drugs. He went into a rehab facility, where he was placed into a trauma unit, when he was 19. It was there that it was discovered that he was considered one of the most abused individuals. Peter came out of rehab and began to rebuild his life. I got him an apartment and he started school at Broward College.
My relationship with Peter has been strained. I have apologized to him many times, explaining to him that I was a much weaker person then. I regret that I let him live with his dad . At that time, I was a needy, dependant woman who was under the control of very domineering men. I still cannot believe the choices a dependant woman will make, even when it comes to the well being of her own children.
Peter is back out of rehab, although he has relapsed twice. Our relationship is better, but still cordial. There is an unspoken awkwardness between Peter and myself. I still cannot make peace with what happened to Peter. I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive myself. I am trying to provide encouragement to Peter by providing any means of support, either financial or emotional, as long as Peter is also working toward the solution.
The road to forgive myself is long and hard and I can’t imagine what it must be like for Peter. I have never gotten over what happened to him. It happened one day at a time, and days turned into years. For any mother reading this, your children are the most important things in your life-- keep them close to you. I didn’t do that, and it remains the most painful lesson I have ever learned in my life.
Barbara Theodosiou
www.theaddictsmom.com
