Disclaimer…..this post is not well organized and may trigger feelings. It’s raw and real.
Hi my name is Mar. I am a grateful believer in Jesus Christ. I am codependent and the daughter of alcoholics.
I am shaking writing this. I’ve been thinking about this post since I started this blog just 12 days ago. I will not post this blog on my Facebook account because so many people don’t know that I grew up in the home of an alcoholic. And I don’t want to upset my siblings for talking about it.
So here it goes, from the youngest daughter point of view of my alcoholic home….
I’m the poster child of being codependent. And it’s no wonder I have made the choices I have in men. My last relationship was when a man I’ve known off and on since high school (twenty something years ago). I knew he had struggled with drinking and he told me he was sober. Reality was he was dry not sober. I thought ‘ok I know what this looks like’. I can handle this. But boy was a wrong. But this post is about before this relationship. Totally different kind of alcoholic and that’s a story for another day.
I was the youngest of 6. Spoiled or so my siblings say. Maybe in some ways but not in others.
I grew up in a house where my parents drank every night. They drank to the point of passing out on the sofa….every night.
The smell of Canadan Club turns my stomach.
The sound of ice clinking the sides of glass and a drink stirring makes me shake my head.
The sound of someone slurring their words brings me to tears.
They drank every night. And they got up every morning and went to work. They worked hard to support the family.
I’m sad to think why they learned this as how they coped with life.
My dad carried a lot of shame. That’s my belief anyway. He died 13 years ago. I miss his wise advise, kindness and fairness.
My mom had a difficult childhood. Her brother passed away. He was hit by a car and I think she blamed herself. She was the litte sister. Her dad was not a nice man. They moved a lot. She died 8 years ago. I miss her support, love and quick wit.
They learned to cope with life by drinking.
At that age when you start to go on sleep overs, I remember thinking, why weren’t their parents drinking and falling asleep on the sofa? So that’s not normal.
Only trusted friends spent the night at my house. Which was only a few and when I was older (high school) and likely because we were drinking too and they wouldn’t notice.
Not long after high school. I fell in love with the class clown. The life of the party. And all I wanted to do was fade into the background. I didn’t drink by choice and he did plenty of drinking for the both of us. My life quickly became about family and kids. His life didn’t change much. And after 16 years together I decided I had enough and I left.
When my dad died in 2002. My moms drinking got worse. It got to the point, that I called her earlier and earlier in the day because she wouldn’t remember what we talked about the night before.
In late 2007 my mom was diagnosed with cirrhosis. But she didn’t tell us. We found out when she was taken to the hospital in what was basically a coma.
There was nothing to do but ride this diagnoses out.
Fluid backed up in her system and her skin would crack and water just driped out of the cracks. She would be so bloated with fluid, they would drain off liters at a time.
She was DNR. Do not resuscitate. She had to say it with every nurse shift change. I know she hated to have to say it out loud everyday, several times a day.
She was slowing dying.
She spent months in the hospital and a nursing home. I went to see her almost everyday. I put lotion of her feet and brushed her hair.
Then we had ‘the family meeting’. There was nothing left to do and she should go home with hospice care.
I will never forget the look on her face when they said that. Hospice, hospice is for dying people…..oh shit I’m dying. That was what she was thinking.
She was transferred home the next day. She didn’t opened her eyes again 24 hours later. When I left that night. I wispered to her….it’s ok to go mom, we’ll be ok. I love you.
She passed away that night a few hours later.
Today is the 8 year anniversary of her passing.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about and miss her.
She was an alcoholic but she was my mom. And I love her so very much.
It’s not her fault. It’s not my dad fault. It’s just how life played out for them. And for me.
But I’m stopping the cycle. I will not allow myself to be in another codependent relationship. I want to model a healthy relationship for my kids. Realtionships with God, with yourself, with each other and with who they love. That’s what matters.
My journey to serenity continues…