Have you ever heard of Korsakoff Syndrome? Yeah, me neither! 

What is Korsakoff Syndrome?  

Google puts it this way: “Korsakoff syndrome (also known as Korsakoff’s amnesic syndrome) is a memory disorder that results from vitamin B1 deficiency and is associated with alcoholism. Korsakoff’s syndrome damages nerve cells and supporting cells in the brain and spinal cord, as well as the part of the brain involved with memory.” (https://www.ninds.nih.gov/health-information/disorders/wernicke-korsakoff-syndrome#:~:text=Korsakoff%20syndrome%20(also%20known%20as,the%20brain%20involved%20with%20memory) 

Click on Korsakoff Syndrome to learn even more about this disease.  

Although bringing awareness to this disease is important, I feel you will understand it much better through the eyes of a remarkable young woman whose mother suffers from the disease.  

I met Alexa on Tik Tok. You probably have seen her videos, but if you have not, click this link to the video that went viral with over 4 million views! That video made me cry and helped me realize that we shared a common bond as total strangers. I had to learn more about her relationship with her mother. That is when I reached out to her. Boy, am I glad that she responded back to me!  

If you have read my story, you already know that I did not have a great relationship with my own mother. My mother was an alcoholic too. But that is not where the similarities ended with us but rather that is where they began. Both Alexa and I have been brainwashed, manipulated, groomed, and abused in an emotional, physical, and sexual way. Her life eerily mirrors my own.  

Both of us suffered this abuse not only from our mothers but from a non-blood related stepfather who served in the military. Both stepfathers ended up winning custody of their non-blood related children and continued to abuse us in ways that no one should endure.  

We were even groomed in similar ways. Our stepfathers tried to get us to do things of our own accord, to make it appear that we wanted what they were more than willing to give, in a very unnatural and disgusting manner.

Both Alexa and I were separated from our mothers during a pivotal time in our lives as we were growing into women, where we were fed lies and made to believe that we were special. Then the veil was abolished, and we saw our abusers for who they truly were and that’s when we were reunited with our mothers again. But the trauma before, during and after the separation remained in a not so neat bundle, messing us up in ways we never fully understood then and are still trying to make sense of now.  

I know this all sounds grim, but have you seen Alexa in her videos? What you see is a radiant, beautiful glow on her face with a pure smile that instantly puts you at ease. How can a woman who has endured so much in only 26 precious years be so happy, loving, and dare I even say forgiving? 

It is because she made a conscientious choice to turn things around. To break the cycle. As she puts it in her own words: ” Be the change that you want to see in the world.” 

Alexa told me in our interview that she had been angry for a long time. Angry with herself because she had a part in helping her stepfather get custody of her and her siblings. Angry that she had a part in pushing her mother away. This was all done with assistance from her stepfather. He paid Alexa $500 to bash herself in the head with a rock so she could lie and say that her mother did it. Alexa was also angry at her mother for leaving in the first place, not fighting, and giving up. She was angry at her mother for choosing to drink rather than get help and change her life around. She was angry that she was never the mother she should have been. She was angry at her mother for not being able to be the mother she still needed. She was mad and hurt that her mother got more excited to see her dog than her.  

There is so much to be angry about. It is all valid and justified. Her mother was abusive and an angry woman herself. She made poor choices that have not only affected her life but everyone else around her.  

The key is that Alexa chose to not be angry anymore. She started to realize that although it was okay to be angry, it was not going to solve anything. It would only make matters worse in the end. That right there is the beginning of ending abusive cycles. That realization is where it all starts!  

Once she made that decision to change things, Alexa then looked at her mother differently. She started to see her in an empathetic way. Not making excuses but rather trying to put herself in her mother’s shoes. Looking at things from her mother’s perspective.  

Alexa’s mother’s name is Darla. Darla started drinking at the tender age of 13 to cope with several members of her family who had passed away. Darla had also being sexually abused and she had to make the heart wrenching decision to carry out a closed adoption all before she turned 18.

Can you imagine all of that happening to you and somehow you are supposed to know how to deal with adult problems when you are still a child? Yeah, I cannot either! Alexa and I have lived through some of the same things. In hindsight we can now understand but at the time we were living out our nightmares we did not know where or whom to turn to. We had not learned the skills to cope either.  

We all turned to something as an escape. For Alexa’s mother it was alcohol. For Alexa it was weed. For me it was books.  

After awareness, there is understanding. It is not making excuses for the person but simply understanding what led them to make the decisions that they did. Why did they feel the need to choose a path of destruction in their lives?  

But it does not have to be that way. What is the difference though? Why do some of us choose to medicate with alcohol, weed or books? It has a lot to do with who was around us at the time or what we were given that finally numbed the pain. No matter where it all started from, in the end, we can all choose to get help and pave a different path our future and our future families.

That is the hope that Alexa and I have. By sharing our stories, you too can see that it is not hopeless and that there are resources you can turn to to get help and to change your circumstances. Some of us can do it before it is to late while some of us cannot. 

My mother passed away and I never got the answers that I was seeking. The main question I asked myself was: “Why wasn’t I enough?”  

Alexa asked the same question, and I am certain hundreds, or even thousands of other daughters are asking that very same question too.  

YOU ARE ENOUGH! We should not be defined by our choices. We should not define ourselves based off what others have done or not done. Yes, there are consequences to every action. Good or bad. But that should not define who WE are. We ultimately have the choice each day to be who we want to be. What others have done does not mean we cannot still be who we choose to be. Let that sink in. Re-read that as many times as you need to to believe it in yourself. Hell, write it on a mirror and note cards and place it everywhere so you are consistently reminded of that. 

After Alexa looked at her mother with empathy and understood her, that is when her mother became human to her. A woman who took the knowledge and circumstances that she had and did what she felt what was right for her at that time.  

It is easy to forget that. We see people and we decide who WE want them to be. Once we drop that idea, that is when the unexpected happens. We suddenly find that we can cope, forgive, and still have a relationship.  

It may not be in the way we thought it would be but that does not make it any less of a beautiful and viable relationship.  

Alexa let go of the fact that her mother is no longer her mother, but she is still a human being deserving of love. She has vowed that she will show her mother the love that she never got in her past. Although Alexa is the parent and Darla is the child, they can still have a meaningful relationship and it is never too late to repair what once was broken.  

Alexa and Darla regularly get manicures together, go to the fair, eat meals together and hang out. It is in these everyday moments that Alexa sees the simple beauty that her mother never got to experience until now. Giggles, childlike happiness, and laughter. These are the moments that bond a mother and daughter together. Seeing each other for who we are and appreciating the simple things about one another.  

Alexa stated that her mother’s voice is soft and pure and that there is an innocence to it. It is hard to imagine how mean her mother once was. It is hard to get mad at her. She has changed even if it is because of Korsakoff Syndrome. She no longer is the same woman she used to be. But that does not make her less valuable and worthy of love. If anything, it may show us that she needs love even more.  

Introduction

The word “mother” carries with it a profound sense of compassion that is unparalleled in the human experience. Mothers, in all their diversity, are the custodians of love, empathy, and understanding. Their compassion transcends boundaries, cultures, and generations, making them the unsung heroes of our lives. In this article, we delve into the boundless compassion of mothers and explore how this remarkable quality shapes the world around us.

1. Nurturing from the Womb

A mother’s compassion begins long before the birth of her child. From the moment a woman conceives, her body becomes a sanctuary, providing nourishment, protection, and warmth to the developing life within her. This selfless act of nurturing and sacrifice exemplifies a mother’s innate compassion.

2. Unwavering Support

Mothers are our first cheerleaders and lifelong supporters. They stand by us through thick and thin, offering unwavering support in times of triumph and consolation in moments of defeat. A mother’s reassuring words and comforting presence provide solace in even the darkest of times.

3. Healing Touch

A mother’s touch has a magical ability to soothe our pains and fears. From the gentle caress that eases childhood scrapes to the comforting embrace that mends broken hearts, a mother’s touch is a powerful balm that heals both physical and emotional wounds.

4. Empathy Beyond Words

Mothers have an uncanny ability to understand us without the need for words. They can sense our joys, sorrows, and worries simply by looking into our eyes. This empathetic connection fosters a sense of security and belonging that is essential for our emotional well-being.

5. Sacrifice and Selflessness

Mothers often put their own needs and desires on hold to prioritize the well-being of their children. This selflessness extends beyond childhood and into adulthood. A mother’s willingness to sacrifice for her family demonstrates the depths of her compassion.

6. Teaching Compassion by Example

Mothers play a pivotal role in shaping their children’s values and character. Through their own acts of kindness and compassion, mothers teach their offspring the importance of empathy and altruism. These lessons ripple through generations, creating a more compassionate world.

7. Non-Judgmental Listening

Mothers offer a safe space where we can express our thoughts and feelings without fear of judgment. Their ability to listen without criticism fosters open communication and strengthens the bonds of trust.

8. The Power of Forgiveness

No matter how many mistakes we make or how many times we stumble, a mother’s love and compassion remain steadfast. Mothers are quick to forgive, offering us a chance to learn and grow from our errors.

9. Compassion for the World

A mother’s compassion doesn’t stop at her doorstep. Many mothers extend their nurturing care to the broader community and even to strangers in need. Their acts of kindness ripple through society, creating a more compassionate world.

10. Legacy of Love

A mother’s compassion leaves an indelible mark on our hearts. It becomes a legacy that we carry forward in our own lives, passing on the gift of compassion to our children and those around us.

Conclusion

The compassion of mothers is a force of nature, an unwavering beacon of love and understanding. From the moment of conception to the lessons they impart throughout our lives, mothers are the embodiment of compassion. Their boundless love and selflessness inspire us to be better, kinder, and more compassionate individuals. In celebrating the compassion of mothers, we recognize the remarkable role they play in shaping our world with their endless love and empathy.

*This blogpost was written by AI (Chat GPT)*

Over the years I have read self help books, went to therapy, and watched shows like Dr. Phil to help me better understand myself and others. I have always had a deep interest in Psychology, but, I do not profess to be an expert of the mental health field. I simply learn what I can, apply what is suggested and see what happens. If it works, great! If not, I learn more about myself and try to hone in on the real issue at hand and go from there until the problem has been solved.

However, with that being said, there have been two key areas I failed to “diagnose” in my situation. Even counselors failed to pick up on the issue or at the very least never stated what potentially may have been going on: That I was living with a narcissist and that I was codependent.

I have a hunch now that my step-father was a narcissist and I was married to one as well.

I have also recently learned that I am codependent because of complex trauma that I suffered as a child. That trauma causes codependency and in turn causes someone like myself to get into unhealthy relationships.

It sucks. But. Now, I finally understand that I am not broken. That I am not useless. That I am not less than others. That I do deserve happiness. I do deserve healthy relationships. That I can be heard and my voice does matter. It sucks that I am 48 years old and discovering this reality about myself. As much as it sucks to not have known this information until now, I am extremely grateful that I am not like my mother who didn’t explore her options at all and died of alcoholism at the age of 66.

My mother had a rough upbringing. Her father abandoned his wife (my grandmother), my mother and her two sisters. What he was unable to give to one family he suddenly was able to give to another. She was raped by her step-father and her mom’s third husband, who was a good man, died too young. I can’t imagine how she felt. She must have had feelings of abandonment, hurt, maybe she even blamed herself. A lot of those thoughts and feelings go hand in hand with shaping codependency. It sounds like this type of behavior may be three generations deep into my roots. I cannot really blame my mother for the decisions that she made. She didn’t know any better and did what she thought was right. That is the key: what SHE thought. I think differently and chances are very high that you do too. It’s not about winning or losing. It’s about understanding. Understanding what shapes us to be who we are. To be ourselves. And when we are unhappy, it is up to us to figure out what will make us happy. To obtain the tools and guidance necessary to get us to where we want to be.

It sounds so easy. But why isn’t it though? Because we do not recognize in ourselves what we readily see in others. Even then, the symptoms mask the real issues at hand. Instead of seeing the wounds that need to be healed, we see what appears to be a normal shell only to be plagued by this inner nagging feeling of being broken. That somehow we will never be enough, that we are un-loveable, cannot be fixed and useless.

I am here to show you that it is not hopeless. YOU can heal and move forward to lead a happy and satisfying life. I can share my thoughts and the work I have done to get to where I am today, but ultimately, if you are not where you want to be, you have to decide what it is that YOU want and start designing the map on how to get yourself there. No one besides you can take this journey. We are all responsible for our own pathway.

As a little girl I had noticed that everyone had a mother except me. I never understood why. I must have started to ask about my mother a lot because my step-father (who adopted and then obtained legal custody of me) told me that my mother was a drunk, drug addict, a whore and that she liked to party a lot. He said that I could probably find her in a bar. He later added that she was also a child molester.

I was born in March of 1974 to a single mother who had just told my biological father that she didn’t need him in her life. That she could raise me on her own without his help. I was told that my mother couldn’t find my father when she went into labor with me. They had gotten into a fight a few days before I was born. When she finally found him he was in a bar getting drunk. My mother ended the relationship with him after he saw me in the hospital for the first time.

At some point my mother met my stepfather and they moved to Texas. It was there that they got married. I believe it must have been sometime around Christmas in 1976. Around that time is also when my stepfather formally adopted me. My biological father gave him permission to do so because in his mind he felt that I would be better off having both a father and a mother in my life. My mother was living in Texas and my biological father was living in Wisconsin at that time.

I know that I was young but I have no memories of my mother and stepfather together. Everything that I know is because of pictures that I have seen or stories that have been told to me by my family. But, it also could be because they weren’t together that long either. They were married when I was two and already split by the time I was five.

It is interesting that my step-father being active duty in the Army was able to get full custody of me in 1979 and take me over to Germany. I am still not sure how that happened. There are logically only two ways: He took my mother to court and won or my mother signed off on all of her parental rights. Their divorce wasn’t finalized until 1982.

I did see my mother briefly in 1982 when we we flew to Wisconsin for a vacation and that may have also been the time that my step-father and my mother went to court to finalize their divorce. I have hardly any memories from that visit. I can tell you what my favorite t-shirt had written on it and I can tell you that my step-father and mother screamed at each other. Other than that I have no memories of anything.

In fact, I hardly have any memories until I am eleven years old and I met my best friend. She was German and we went to the same school. She invited me to her birthday party and we were inseparable from then on.

I don’t know if I just don’t have a good memory or the type of trauma that I endured as a child took my memory away but it is so frustrating to me that I can hardly remember anything. I cannot remember things like where I lived, who my friends were, what schools I attended or what my teachers looked like. It’s like half of my life was erased or never even existed and yet here I am.

I remember some things here and there and those are the things I will be writing about. Who knows, maybe by me writing about what I do remember it will jog my memory on the things that I don’t.

Around the age of 11 my step-father started to abuse me in a sexual way. Up to this point he abused me verbally and at times spanked me, yanked on me or pushed me.

Every year on my birthday I can remember how he would lay me over his lap as I was faced down, and then he would spank me the amount of times coinciding with my “new” age and then he’d give my butt a firm pinch in order “to grow an inch” with a smile on his face.

As I look back, I can’t help but wonder if those were excuses for him to touch me so he could “normalize” certain behaviors and mold me into what he wanted me to do as I got older.

I can vividly remember the evening that his behavior changed. We were in the living room watching a movie. He was on the couch and it appeared that he fell asleep. I got up at some point and when I came back he was laying on the couch in his underwear. The next time I got up and came back he was laying on the couch naked. I didn’t know what to think. I reasoned that he did it in his sleep. So I went to bed and tried to put it out of my mind. I was only 11 and really didn’t know how to process or what to even do with that information, but, deep down inside I knew that what he had done was wrong.

The next day after work he started to walk around the house naked. Most fathers would come home and change out of their uniforms into something more comfortable, my step-father just changed into his birthday suit. That was just a “normal” part of living from then on. I would be so embarrassed if anyone knocked on the door and I was careful not to open the door very wide when someone did. I also never invited my friends over when he was around for fear of them seeing him. I didn’t know how to explain what he was doing to anyone. Nor did I want to.

I lived in this state of fear for nearly four years.

After reading my first post I’m sure you are wondering why I made the difficult decision to stop talking to my mother. It wasn’t one thing or even one event that led me up to that decision. It was years of decisions that my mother made that showed me that I just wasn’t that important to her. It was years of me excusing those behaviors, trying to believe that things would change or thinking that my love and patience would be enough.

My life is a lot like a jigsaw puzzle. There are many pieces. And I do not know where they all belong. I have to take one piece and put it up against another piece to get a fuller picture. I have what my mother has told me and what my father has told me and what I remember. I have to piece together the parts that go together to get an idea of what transpired in my life.

Therefore, my story will not be in chronological order and there will be periods of time missing. Unfortunately, that is how my brain has chosen to cope with many of the events that have happened in my life.

It has been a great source of frustration for me because I am a very detail oriented person. I am a visual learner and when I can’t fit all the pieces together to form a picture, it gets very confusing.

So with that being said, or rather written, I will start my next post at the beginning of my life.

On June 29th, 2020, as I was working, I received a Facebook message from my aunt Penny. She asked me if I wanted to know about my mother. I asked her what was going on and she replied to me that she was in the Intensive Care Unit. I, of course, asked my aunt what happened and she replied with one word “health”. Penny was going up to the hospital soon and she wanted to know how much I wanted to be informed about my mother’s condition.

The last time I had spoken to my mother was around April 2018 when my daughter, Keisha, called her to inform her that she was about to be a great-grandmother. We had a great conversation that day. We all seemed happy and yet she never once called me or my daughter again. Not to see how Keisha’s pregnancy was going, nor to ask for any ultrasound pictures, not even to congratulate her after Jaxson was born. Absolutely nothing. It wasn’t a surprise to me because she did the same thing to me when I was pregnant with my daughter. The only thing she did different was to be at the hospital when Keisha was born.

Knowing that I wasn’t on speaking terms with my mother, my aunt wanted to honor my wishes. I had made the painful decision to not “chase” after my mother again. I refer to my relationship with my mother as a roller coaster ride and I got off that ride for the last time when my grandson was born on my daughter’s birthday and I didn’t hear one word from my mother.

My aunt then informed me that my mother had a do not resuscitate order and if needed be, that my aunt would be the one to make any decisions on my mother’s behalf. Then my aunt asked me one simple question: “Are you okay?”. I replied, “I hope so”.

I just sat at my computer staring at it with tears in my eyes. I was contemplating on whether I could even go see her at this point. I knew in my soul that this was it. I knew I had a limited amount of time left to see her. I lived in Texas and she lived in Wisconsin. I didn’t have a whole lot of time to decide what I was going to do. I asked myself one question: If I didn’t go would I regret my decision? I wasn’t going to be able to go back and do a ‘do-over’. This was it. I decided to go.

I live with my boyfriend, his son, my daughter and my grandson. We all decided to go to Wisconsin so my mother could meet her great-grandson for the first and last time. It was her only dying wish.

It was a very long drive and I had plenty of time to think. I kept thinking about what I wanted to gain from this trip. How could I have peace with her? There were so many questions that I had and would never get answers to. I was never going to receive any type of explanation for why she made the choices that she did. Therefore, I decided that I would put my struggles aside and the only two things that I was going to focus on was letting her know that I loved her and that I forgave her. I wanted her to die as peacefully as she could. She would have to die knowing all of her regrets but I vowed that I wasn’t going to regret my decision to be there for her.

When we first arrived I was unable to see my mother because she was still in the ICU and because of COVID-19 she could only have two visitors and they had to take turns visiting her. Those two spots were taken by my mother’s husband and my aunt.

My mother made the decision to live out her final days at home instead of going to palliative care. I firmly believe she did that so she could see Jaxson. Children under the age of 18 aren’t allowed in palliative care. She never would have gotten to see him otherwise since he was only 19 months old.

Deep down inside my gut I think it was her last final way to show Keisha that she was sorry. That she didn’t want to let her down one last time.

My mother was discharged on Wednesday July 1st. That morning I went to Walmart to pick up some extra bed sheets and some food that she could eat.

Keisha, Jaxson and I went to see her in the early afternoon. On the twenty minute drive out to my mothers trailer Keisha and I discussed what my mother may be like. Would she be coherent? Able to get around or be bed ridden? Would she apologize to us for missing out on our lives? Give us any last piece of advice?

When we first got there she was lying in a hospital bed that was placed in the middle of the living room. She immediately saw us, recognized us and seemed happy that we finally arrived. I sat next to my mom rubbing her arm as Keisha introduced Jaxson to her. My mother smiled at her great-grandson and turned her head to look at him while he pointed to her eyes.

Hospice came later that day to give us instructions on how and when to administer medications to keep my mother as comfortable as possible. He set up for a caregiver to come the next day to assist her with with her personal cares such as bathing, changing clothes and changing her bed sheets.

On Thursday when we went to see her you could tell her health was declining more rapidly. She slept more and breathing became tougher for her. When she coughed she would try to clear out her throat as if something were stuck in it. She stopped drinking any fluids and she barely had any output.

I prepared my daughter for the signs of death so she would know what to expect. I had been a certified nursing assistant for many years and unfortunately have witnessed death several times before. I knew it wouldn’t be much longer now.

That is when I chose to tell my mom that I forgave her for everything that she had done. All the times she decided not to talk to me or to help me understand what she was thinking and feeling. I told her that when she was ready she could simply just let go. I made sure to tell her how much I loved her despite everything we had been through.

On Friday July 3rd my mother mostly slept. She no longer tried to communicate with us. She barely moved. We made sure that she was free of pain, we talked to her and held her hand to let her know that we were there with her. Around 4:00 pm I decided that we should go and I went to say goodbye to my mom. I gave her permission to die and whispered in her ear that whenever she was ready, it would be okay to let go.

My mom started to open her eyes, make some moaning noises and move her arms. I remembered the hospice nurse saying that she may get agitated and there was some medicine that we could give her to help her calm down. I decided to give her a dose but it didn’t seem to help. Then I thought that maybe she was in pain so I gave her some pain medication. She continued to move her arms and stare up at the light that was attached to the ceiling fan. My daughter and my mothers husband were by her side. They were trying to calm her down and then my daughter said out loud what we all were thinking: “I think she is dying”.

I’ll never forget the look of horror on my daughter’s face as she realized that this was it. My mother’s breathing became very shallow and her eyes just kept staring at the ceiling. At one point she said “Mom”!

My mother was very close to her mother. My grandmother had passed away when I was a preteen and my mother never truly came to terms with the fact that she was gone.

So when my mother said “Mom”, we all knew that she was about to die. Keisha told me to come over to the bed so we all could say our final goodbyes to her and we just held her hand and told her that it was going to be okay. Then after a few minutes she took her final breath.

She was only 66.

Although it was tough losing her, in a way I had prepared myself for this day many years before. When I was in my early 30’s I had a discussion with my mother and I had told her back then that if she didn’t make some changes in her life that as she was lying on her deathbed that she would have regrets.

When it came to her relationship with me, my daughter and alcohol…absolutely nothing changed. She continued to drink and she continued to pretend that Keisha and I didn’t exist.

It is weird to say this but I do know that my mother loved me. I wish that she could have shown me that she loved me throughout my life though. I also wish she could have been brave enough to talk to me. Not to feel shame and fear but to actually be open and honest and allow herself to heal. She endured a lot in her lifetime but it is my honest opinion that some of her choices made her life worse rather than better. Because of those choices she lost out on so much. To her last dying breath she didn’t even try to rectify any of her relationships. To hear that really saddened me but it also made me extremely proud of myself for being there. Because I proved to myself and to my mother and taught my daughter one valuable lesson: No matter how hard it is, do not let others stand in your way of being true to yourself and that can even include not allowing you to hold your own self back.

With this blog I intend to share my experiences of what I dealt with and how I was able to overcome and even grow from what I’ve been through. How I was able to have a wonderful, close relationship with my own daughter despite the obstacles I had to push myself through. I am not a licensed professional but my life is a leading example in many ways.

If I can do it so can anyone else!