Adult Child of Alcoholics

My honest journey from dysfunctional adult child of alcoholics to functioning adult.

Chapter One

We live in a world where drinking alcohol is part of our social makeup. You go out with friends, go to social occasions, christenings, weddings or funerals and alcohol is always readily available. It’s human nature. We grow up witnessing our parents drinking socially with friends. Everyone is happy and laughing and you grow up thinking that having an alcoholic drink is fun. As a young child these were certainly sights I witnessed, alcohol to me was just something my parents and relatives did. Every adult I knew drank alcohol. That was the way of our world. I’m sure past generations behaved no differently and I don’t believe at this time my parents behaved any different from a lot of my peers' parents and relatives but what happens if in the blink of an eye if tragedy strikes your family and your once happy social parents don’t drink to have fun anymore? They instead drink to numb the pain of an unbearable tragedy that took them from loving functioning parents to alcoholics.

This is the story of how I grew up to become an adult child of alcoholics, how I struggled through life with so much pain, anger, and resentment inside of me. Every minute of every day I felt dead inside, reaching my rock bottom and contemplating whether I could go on for another day until I made the brave decision to seek recovery. This allowed me to discover who I truly was and come to terms with the emotional damage that had been done to me through the disease of alcoholism.

The journey I’ve gone on since the start of my recovery has been one of the most painful challenges I’ve ever faced, but for the last four years, I can honestly say that it's been worth every minute of it.

I’ve shed more tears and felt like quitting more times than I’d like to admit. I’ve gone on an emotional roller coaster day after day. Some days I was happy, some days I was sad. Some days I was hyper and untouchable, the next day I couldn’t get out of my bed because the darkness inside of me had made a violent return, but I fought hard every day and today I’m happy, at peace and living the life I could only ever dream of having. True happiness is something I thought other people had.

I am living proof that with hard work, support, and determination you can achieve true happiness and recover from being an adult child of alcoholics and live the life you’ve always dreamed of.

Chapter Two

I can only begin to imagine how many people have grown up with very similar stories to mine probably trying to work out why life is so painful and maybe even turning to drink or drugs to help deal with the darkness inside of them. Sadly, that is, statistically, the reality many adult children of alcoholics grow into. Why wouldn't they turn to substance abuse? Our parents did it. To people like me, it's a normal way of life, we don’t know anything different so how can we do differently?

I want to talk a little about who I am, where I come from, my pain and heartache, and my decision to seek help.

I was brought up with two loving supportive parents and an extended network of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandmas. In my early years, I was a happy child. At this time I had an older and younger sibling. Life was good. We played with our friends and spent time with our extended family. One evening my gran was at our home and took me and my older sibling to the kitchen to tell us mummy is in hospital because she had a little baby in her tummy and the little baby has died. She carried on by saying that mum was going to need us to be good responsible children and help more with our younger sister. At the time I couldn't really understand what it all meant but years later I would discover that that’s probably the day my childhood came to an end. I was five years old.

My parents made the decision for us to move house and go on and have another child. Life became more challenging as I grew up. The words my gran said to me about being a responsible and good child were deeply ingrained in me. I always tried to be a good girl but looking back it was probably driven through fear of my mother's reactions. As my father's drinking escalated from weekends to every night, so did my mum's and along with that came anger and that anger, most of the time, was directed at my siblings and I. Going to school was good because you got a break from it all, but lunchtime would approach and you then had time to think and then the anxiety would set in as to what you were going home too.

Were we going home to the mum who's pleased to see us and has an interest in our day? Was it the mum who didn’t mind that we left our jackets and bags on the floor in a rush to get sat in front of the television? Or was it the other mum, the one who didn’t care how school was, the one who screamed and shouted at us for leaving our jackets and bags on the floor? We had all toughened up to the unpredictable behaviour or so we thought.

It seemed like anything that happened was an excuse for my parents to get drunk. Family parties were the norm, now not only were you around your parents, who were even more drunk than normal, but you had aunts and uncles to deal with as well, then neighbours would join in and even though for a part of the time everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, our anxieties became more heightened the more drunk they got because you knew a fight was about to erupt at any time soon because it always did. Being around drunk people has always and probably always will make me anxious. I lived in a very unpredictable world and I still find to this day drunk people can be very unpredictable and frightening.

Even though my dad was an alcoholic, he still functioned as a father and still provided his children with support; unlike a lot of adult children, we still had a meal on the table and we were always clean and tidy and for many years so was the environment we lived in. Sadly, my siblings and I would be so happy if we came home on a Friday and there was no sign of mum. We felt excitement, hoping and praying that she was either out with our aunts or she had gone to a funeral.

Either one of these situations was a bonus because there was a chance she would be out all weekend, meaning we could relax and enjoy our weekend being children instead of frightened little animals. Growing up I never felt afraid of my dad. He was a good natured man, he was funny, he taught us things, always had us out in the fresh air having fun, allowing us to be children. Sadly life with my mum was the opposite; she was very unpredictable and you always felt on edge being around her. You knew what you were getting with my dad, the same could not be said of my mum. I don’t think I was ever deeply affected by my dad's alcoholism but I was certainly affected by my mum's reaction to my dad's alcoholism and for my siblings and me, that’s where we were neglected and deeply affected. Emotionally, we were stuck at a very young age and would carry our emotional baggage with us into adulthood and into our relationships.

Reaching puberty for many people is a trying time, testing their boundaries with their parents. It's all part of who you are and you emotionally mature as the years go on. Well I think that’s what you do, I honestly didn’t have a clue, I always felt so immature and confused with life.

As my siblings' behaviour became more erratic, so did my mum’s and with that came more screaming and shouting and sometimes physical abuse. So many times I wanted to step in and protect my sisters from what they had to endure but I knew life at that time was all about survival. If I stepped in to protect my siblings, I would end up worse off. No thank you. I put my head down and got on with life. During this time I would spend more and more time out of the house at friends. Friends who I’d never allow to my house. Not only was I too afraid to take them to my house, in case another fight broke out between my parents but deep down inside I felt so ashamed of what my parents had become.

Over the years things only got worse. My dad's alcoholism was starting to control him even more. Out of work and nothing to do with his time, his drinking was now a daily occurrence. He was beginning to shut down from his children. The more my sisters misbehaved, the more my mum screamed and shouted, the more my dad drank, and the more he drank, the more sad he became and this pattern of behaviour continued. I was now working and out of the house even more, socialising with friends and trying to enjoy life but my fear and anxiety always kept my thoughts on home. My friends always knew how to let go and enjoy themselves but I always felt more reluctant. Truth is I didn’t know how to enjoy myself like them. I always felt so unsure about life, my friends knew what plans were in place for their career and what they had to do to achieve it.

I didn’t have a clue about any of this. All I was ever told at home is if you leave school you best get a job to help support this family. There was never any discussion about further education or career choices. I’m 42 now and still don’t have a clue.

I always had a fear inside of me of ending up like my parents or, even worse, meeting an alcoholic. That was never going to happen to me. I was going to make sure I never lived a life like theirs but, what do you know, I fell in love with someone who was fighting his own demons and used drink and drugs to escape from them. So much for the promise I made myself. Doesn't the old saying go, "like attracts like?" As much as I promised myself I'd never be with someone like my parents, looking back, every boyfriend I had was addicted to some sort of drink or drug.

Early on in our relationship, things were great. There weren't many signs that he had problems. He had a good job, a child who he was devoted to, and I was in love. The only time I felt slightly concerned with his behaviour was when he was around my family. I noticed his drinking was more erratic so when he was offered a job in another country, I jumped at the chance foolishly thinking if I got him away from the alcoholics then he wouldn’t become one. How wrong I was.

That was me moving away to another country with the man I loved and not an alcoholic in sight. Life was good for a long time for us but as the pressure of his job started to take hold, so did his need to escape. Coupled with the fact that we had become parents to a sick child was too much for him and his dependence on drink and drugs took hold. The more he wanted to escape, the more frustrated I became and it was soon apparent that the damage that had been done to me being raised in an alcoholic home was raising its ugly head. I started being controlling mostly through fear. I couldn't explain to him how it was making me feel because I’d been raised not to talk about emotions, but to suppress them. I couldn't even admit to him let alone anyone else that my parents were alcoholics and now on top of it all I find out one of my siblings has become a heroin addict. I felt so ashamed. Unfortunately alcoholism was taking its toll not only on me but also on my siblings.

I’d always phone home to check on my parents but my mum was always pretty cold towards me always making me feel as if my sisters were better than me. She could never say anything like I’m proud of you or I love you which devastated me and I took that out on the man I loved. Yet again I couldn't express how my mum was making me feel so it came out in frustration and anger. This pattern of behaviour continued for years. None of us knew how to communicate so we just plodded along.

I couldn’t trust anyone to tell them how challenging things were at home and I'd certainly learned from a young age that you never tell anyone anything that involves your parents drinking habits. All I ever felt was incredibly lonely and very sad inside and as the years went on it only got worse. I ended up turning to food as a way of dealing with how I felt. I became an emotional eater and battled with this for too many years as a way of yet again suppressing emotions. I always believed that my partner and I had something special between us as by this time we had another child . We always knew how to communicate with each other when it came to our children but not with each other.

Our children were always our top priority. Two of my siblings also had children and, unfortunately, their children weren't. Sadly they were now raising their children the exact same way they had been raised around addiction and violence and it deeply upset me. Yet another innocent generation being raised in dysfunction. Sadly we were to discover that our youngest child had autism. Something I'd heard mentioned on the news but didn’t understand what it meant but I was soon to learn how exhausting and stressful it would be and how much strain it would put on an already delicate relationship.

One day we had a visit from specialists who advised us to go on parenting classes. I felt so offended. Me being an adult child translated that into your a terrible mother and you better take these classes. That was the sickness that was in me. I couldn’t see that these people were only trying to help us. Anyway off I went to the classes thinking all the time with my egotistical attitude I could teach the bloody class. How wrong I was. I didn’t have a clue how to be a good parent. How would I? I was raised by dysfunctional alcoholics but I certainly was never admitting any of that to anyone through fear of looking weak. So I put my new parenting skills to good use and looking back it's one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Things were now set to take a heartbreaking turn on receiving a phone call from my mum telling me that yet again my dad was in hospital and my reply was, "How long until he gets better", only to hear words that will upset me for the rest of my life.

"Dad's not going to get better this time, it's only a matter of time." Seeing my dad laying in the hospital having gone into organ failure due to alcoholism is an image that will break my heart for the rest of my life. All the time in my head I kept thinking, what happened to that proud hard working dad, how could he be so selfish to let this happen to him and put all of us through this? Alcoholism had killed my dad at the age of 52 and I felt so angry inside that he'd left me. That anger was directed firmly at my partner for his behaviour and the words coming out of my mouth were, "I’m not going to let our children feel how I feel and I’m not going to feel how my mum feels. It's drink or us." Thankfully he stopped.

Looking back I wish I’d said that years previously. So I was starting to naively and immaturely feel optimistic about our future but sadly it was to be short lived as the drinking and drugs had stopped but now it was computer games. He had a new obsession and I was to learn how bad it was.

We soon realised that our son was going to find school too difficult to cope with, so we made the decision to return home to give our son the best possible opportunities available to him and hopefully get some support from my family as his behaviour was taking its toll on all of us but sadly the help I’d hoped for was never going to happen. My siblings had turned out to be incredibly selfish, self-centred people and all my mum was doing since my dad's death was drinking and watching grandchildren. What a mess everyone had become and I found the transition back into that environment painful.

As time went on it sometimes became too much to bear. I was trying hard to stick to the good parenting skills I had in place and all the time my children were seeing dysfunction from everyone. How confusing things must have been for them. I would never allow our children to be around my mum drunk and I was later to find out from my daughter that at the time it upset her that she couldn’t spend time with her cousins. She's older now and has told me that she's glad I did keep her away.

So the more my mum drank, the more my sisters resented her and all she ever did was look after their children and people please them. Never questioning their behaviour towards their children, how could she, that’s exactly how we were raised. I was doing things so differently, because I never wanted my children to feel how I felt but the more angry and frustrated I became with all of them, the more I took that out on my partner. I was slowly becoming the person I never wanted to be. I was becoming my mother and that terrified me. Truth be told I was probably always like her, how could I be anything different I had learned behaviours.

It all got too much for me when my emotional eating had spiralled to new levels. I was severely over weight, seriously depressed, and needed help, but how could anyone help me when I couldn’t express how I felt? Every day was a dark day in my world. When people would say you must be so proud of your children I'd smile and agree. I had no idea what that emotion felt like. The only emotions I ever felt were negative ones. Anger, hatred, resentment, and jealousy. I couldn't see the beautiful functioning people our children were becoming because I was so consumed with what all the addicts around me were doing. It was all I could focus on and life was just becoming unbearable to the point I didn’t even want to live any more. The only thing that stopped me and kept me fighting through the pain was the thought of these addicts damaging all the work I’d put in in raising our children. How could I put my babies through the same pain I was going through? Enough was enough. I was 38 years old and I’d been made to feel like the worst person in the world from the people who are supposed to love me and I was taking control of my own life and leaving them to do what they wanted.

Time to find out who I was.

Chapter Three

I’d previously had plenty of conversation with my older sister over the years about our upbringing and she would always say that we are adult children but I just agreed having no idea what she meant. One day she got so frustrated with me that she screamed at me and said, "For god's sake, you're not depressed, you're an adult child and you're deeply affected by alcoholism." I was slightly annoyed and left. From this though, I went on an online mission to see what rubbish she was talking about. And there it was, everything I was feeling and thinking every day was right there in front of me. Stories I read from other people like me, it was like they were talking about my life. That was it: I was an adult child of alcoholics, everything I’d gone through in my life. All the pain and heartache I’d suffered for most of my life was because of alcoholics.

So now my anger was completely directed at my parents. My rage was on a whole new level. I was in more pain than I’d ever been in my life so yet again, fully in the throws of adult child behaviour, I took that out on my partner and blamed his obsessions for why I was so angry. I couldn’t express that I’d finally understood who I was and I thought I needed help so I just did what I always did and went straight for his jugular. I realised soon after that I could recover from this terrible family disease and now that I knew I wasn’t needing anti depressants I decided that I’d give recovery a go. Wasn't sure how it could help but I’d tried everything else to feel better and nothing had ever helped. What did I have to lose?

Recovery to me now is the best decision I've ever made. Everyone in the house is happy. Our children are open and honest about how difficult it was sometimes seeing me so sad all the time. I wasted so many years of my life being caught up in other people's bullshit that I missed the beauty around me. Over the last year, I’ve worked my recovery harder than anything else in my life. I’ve realised that my mum and sisters are very mentally sick people and the more I’m around them, the more sick I become so I’ve completely detached from them all. Not because I don’t love them because I do but I don’t like their behaviour and it affects my recovery. Now that I can feel real emotions, all my emotional eating has stopped and I’m beginning to lose weight. I go to the gym a few days a week, I eat healthy, and constantly try to work my recovery programme. I do still have tough times but I try and deal with it in the appropriate healthy way.

I will spend the rest of my life in recovery from my parents' alcoholism and I’m okay with that. I don’t feel anger or resentment towards my parents because they were also mentally sick people. I don’t think it's how they planned their life to end up but it did and sadly young lives are still being destroyed because of that but I’m powerless over anything my family does, just as powerless as I was over my parents' alcoholism.

Alcoholism is a disease that destroys families and I hope by writing this, people will better understand the pain that it causes innocent people around them. A lot of people who do drink have fun and move on with their life but sadly there's a lot of people in society today who use alcohol as a way to numb the stress of work or their private life and a glass of wine over the weekend can quickly become a glass of wine a night. Slowly over time, that buzz that they got from one glass a night now needs to be a bottle and sadly it's not until they try and stop do they realise there’s a problem because now they're having to deal with life's difficulties sober. All the problems they could forget about when they had a drink have now reached the surface and it's living sober they can't cope with so yet again they turn to drink to block it all out. It’s a vicious circle of avoiding pain.

I’m incredibly fortunate that I don’t have the addictive gene as my siblings do. I’ve seen how they've battled with their own addictions and demons over the years and the damage it's done to their children and generation after generation the circle of addiction and dysfunction continues.

Sadly in this day and age, too many children are growing up how I grew up and it pains me to see that happen. Alcoholism is a recognised disease but it's still frowned upon by many people. My dad died of alcoholism 14 years ago and my mum still won't tell the truth; it's constant lies to cover up the shame that’s attached to alcoholism. Sadly we are living in a society where too many people worry about what others will think and I was exactly the same. I was too afraid to tell anyone my parents were alcoholics as I was afraid they would judge me and not like me, again part of the sickness that affects people living with this terrible disease.

Now that I'm in recovery I don’t care what people think of me. It's not important. My parents being alcoholics is not a reflection of who I am today or who I'll be in the future. More awareness needs to be raised on this family disease. For every one alcoholic, up to 90 people can be affected and it is probably growing all the time.

We as a human race need to have compassion for these people instead of judging for their weaknesses. These people don't want to live the life their living or hurt the people they love the most but sadly that's what the disease will do to them. They are very mentally sick people who need help and understanding. I will probably never understand what my parents went through losing my brother but I don’t think they planned on becoming alcoholics and putting my siblings and me through the hell we went through.

This could happen to any family, one day everything is good and everyone is happy, then disaster happens. I’m not saying that an alcoholic is born over night but as the pain in people's life becomes too much to bear, a quick drink will make them feel better. This can happen to any family at any time. They are not weak, selfish people as I know a lot of people think and to be truthful I thought the same for too many years. That was the attitude that brought me to the point of considering whether I wanted to live anymore. That’s how much I was affected by alcoholism, it could send you mentally insane if you don’t seek help.

Looking back now I can laugh at the way I was but at the time I thought I'd never laugh again let alone be genuinely happy. But I am. I don't resent my parents for the choices they made. My parents are good people who loved their children but unfortunately, their choices made me resent them and hate them for too many years and it controlled almost every part of my adult life.

Even though my mum is sober today, I still choose to not have a relationship with her because she is known as a dry drunk. Basically still behaving the way she did when she was drunk and I choose not to be around that type of behaviour for my own sanity. She's never dealt with the reasons why she became an alcoholic in the first place so all the anger and resentment still resides in her to this day.

I’m not saying that everyone who has an alcoholic in their life should cut off all contact with them and never speak to them again. My decision to end my relationship with my blood relatives was a decision my partner, myself, and our children made altogether. My mum, my siblings, and their children still all live in a dysfunctional chaotic world and even though I've tried to speak to them all separately about recovery nobody will even admit that it's a problem. It is normal to them and it was to me until I decided to help myself with recovery.

It is very difficult to work a programme of recovery when you're surrounded by sickness. Adult children like me love drama and chaos, love being in the middle of gossip and for some adult children of alcoholics, this can become as addictive as alcohol is to an alcoholic and as much as I tried to not get involved slowly but surely, guaranteed I'd be drawn back in again. I'd always use the quote "business is business and mind your own" but again, I’d fall flat on my face and I would be dragged back into someone else’s drama. Again, part of my sickness that I was struggling to control but unfortunately I'd take that back home into my peaceful family life and it was without a doubt causing problems.

Our children don't understand dysfunction as well as my partner and I do as they don't live in that world, so when my daughter pointed out that she doesn’t like how I behave around these people, it's not who I am. It was time for me to make the decision to cut off all contact. My immediate family are my world and they can see how I can change so drastically when I'm pulled back into a dysfunctional world and how quickly and easily it can happen.

I made the decision to walk away to not only protect my mental health but so I could focus on my recovery so that at least my children understand the difference between living the correct way and doing the right thing as opposed to dysfunction and chaos. It's probably one of the bravest and toughest decisions I've ever made but I don’t regret it. If anything I've progressed quicker in my recovery and choose to be around people who make me smile.