Better

My upbringing wasn’t what I would’ve chosen in a lot of ways. Both of my parents, at different points in their lives, had addictions of some kind and the impact of that is long lasting.

When people think about addiction, they often think about the one with the disease. They think - if he stopped drinking or if she stopped doing drugs then things would get better. The truth is, some things would get better but alcoholism is a family disease and it takes years of work to reverse some of the effects. It’s such a pervasive issue that there are support groups for teens (Alateen) and adults (Al-Anon).

If you have a close family member or friend who is an admitted or by their behavior, an alcoholic, please get help. It’s deeper than you realize and even if the person is now sober, the impact of the disease remains.

https://al-anon.org/al-anon-meetings/

During my childhood I spent a lot of time around people who were addicts. As a result, there were ways that I learned to cope that where flat out unhealthy.

For example, I can tune something or someone out and completely disconnect - I can bottle something up and appear normal and fine. When my mother died, I was having full on conversations with people and not sharing that my mother had died. I told the people who absolutely needed to know and no one else.

About a week after she passed, I called a friend and asked him to pick me up from the airport, I was flying back to DC from California. He replied “Pick you up? How is your mom?” It was then that I told him she had died.

When I was in high school, my mom got a cancer diagnosis. I still don’t know the ins and outs because she told me while we were arguing - she literally pushed me out of the house as she was telling me she had cancer.

I went to school that day and when I walked in I was in tears. I told a friend, who then told the adults and it became a thing I’d have to answer every time someone thought about it. So I decided to keep quiet. I didn’t want the attention, I had no information, and I was just left with the mess of it all.

I saw a lot as a child - things folks wouldn’t believe - and to cope I’d get quiet. I wouldn’t say anything about it because I didn’t want the additional noise and…I had no other information so I was in the dark. What kind of Cancer? I wouldn’t know until years later and I’m still not sure. I have a general understanding but no facts so I kept quiet. It was a horrible coping mechanism.

The more I think about it there was no consistent emotional regulation in my environment. Neither my father nor my mother managed their emotions in a way that demonstrated steadiness and safety. The cycle was - crazy news, no additional information, and no follow up conversations. So I went silent and my pain became invisible to everyone but me.

I have learned to let it out and have been able to both share and listen to stories that are similar to mine. I’m also continuing to learn how to say what’s happening, and how I’m feeling rather than hiding it. My natural inclination is to go inward but I know I have to let it out. This blog is part of that work.

Thanks for reading