Thursday, December 31, 2015

The Lost Child II


Greetings followers:

Happy Holidays!  Beginning today the My ACOA Life Blog will be posted every Thursday.

I was reading an article online by Louise Behiel entitled “The Lost Child: Invisible and Unheard.”  She said that the lost child, which I identify as, understands or feels the strain the family is under.  As a result, they try to minimize their demands on their parents and siblings.  I certainly avoided any push back my parents might have given by not asking to go to parties and other events that I knew they would not approve of.  I didn’t fight for the things I really wanted.  To this day, I feel somewhat guilty when I attend a number of events in close proximity of each other.  Behiel says, as a result, lost children are often overlooked.  This leaves them feeling lonely, rejected and isolated.  The conundrum is they get what they want but that result leaves them feeling empty.  The lost child spends much time doing activities such as daydreaming, fantasizing, reading, and watching television.  This describes my childhood to a tee. 

This article also got me thinking about another article I read, in which I learned that I was a compulsive eater.  It got me wondering…does compulsive eating mean I’m feeling empty inside; that the inner child in me is starved for affection or attention.  Am I denying that this exist in me because I was taught to be strong and independent?  This is more eye-opening information to ponder.

Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

The Forgotten One


For those of us who grew up with one or both parents that were alcoholics, we learn first and foremost that we do not matter.  I remember when I was five years old waiting for my father, who was an alcoholic, to pick me up from school.  I waited and waited for him.  I watched child after child leave with their mom or dad.  They’d wave good-bye to me and say “see you tomorrow.”  Some of the mothers even asked if someone was picking me up.  “My daddy is,” I’d replied proudly.  But when all my classmates were gone, I stood alone.  Then, I decided to walk home alone. 

It was only a five minute walk to our apartment.  There were crossing guards at every street that I had to cross.  When I arrived at the four-unit building where we lived, I entered the hallway and proudly knocked on our first floor apartment door.  I just knew my father would be proud to know that I could come home all by myself.  But he didn’t answer the door.  I knew he was there; his car was parked right out front.  He was inside the apartment; passed out. 
For some reason I was unfazed.  I sat on the steps and read my school book for nearly an hour.  Then suddenly I saw my father dart out of the apartment and out the door.  He didn’t even notice me on the steps.  After another 30 minutes or so he returned looking crazed.  That’s when he noticed me on the steps.  You see, alcoholic parents are selfish, self-absorbed, and often forget the important things that go on in their children's lives, which leaves the child feeling as though they don't matter.  This caused me to have no faith in others growing up and to this day to some degree.

Whether they realize it or not, alcoholic parents teach their children to suppress their pain and their emotions to survive.  I don’t remember feeling any particular emotion that day when I couldn’t get into the apartment.  I just knew he was inside and had learned at a very young age how to entertain myself.

Alcoholics also teach their children that the things they say and hear didn't really happen; that reality isn't really reality, and the children grow up, unsure if there really was problem in their home.  I was in denial about the dysfunction of my home growing up for more than 50 years.

The only way to become a survivor is to separate our messed-up childhood from our present.  When we feel as though something is wrong, it's probably the pain of our past.  Only when we separate our present from our past can we truly begin to heal.

Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The Perfect Daughter


There’s a book that put on my list of “books to read” called Perfect Daughter by Robert Ackerman.  It’s said to be a pivotal book in the ACOA movement that identifies what differentiates the adult daughters of alcoholics from other women.  It’s also said to have so many good concepts in it that a few were capsulized in this poem by Kara Di Giovamma so we might better understand the long term effects on children - even into adulthood.

 “After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul.

 And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning

And company doesn’t mean security.

 And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts

And presents aren’t promises.

 And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes ahead

With the grace of a woman or man

Not with their grief of a child.

 And you learn to build your roads on today

Because tomorrows’ ground is too uncertain for plans

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

And after a while you learn

That even sunshine burns if you ask too much.

 So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

 And you learn

That you really can endure

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth.

 And you learn…

And you learn…

With every failure

You learn.”

This is what it means to come out of a dysfunctional home and to try to change your own life.  I am reminded of the ACOA Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the courage to change the one I can, and the wisdom to know that one is me.

Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

Codependency and ACOA


Adult Children of Alcoholic (ACOA) literature talks about being codependent; I never have identified as codependent.  I didn’t think it was applicable to me.  However, I’m learning that being ACOA and codependency go hand-in-hand. 

Children from alcoholic families tend to take on roles in order to survive such as the role of caretaker, which I felt a tremendous need to look out for my alcoholic father by making sure he ate and driving him to the liquor store so he wouldn't drive drunk.  True, I was enabling him but I felt there was no other alternative.  I also became somewhat of a clown; laughing and making jokes in order to conceal my shame and pain.  And of course, I am a classic avoider; avoiding conflict, difficult conversations, and anything else I perceive to be hard or uncomfortable.

Codependency makes it difficult to see your own thoughts, feelings and actions clearly because your focus is primarily on others.  In codependency, value comes from the opinions of others and safety comes from feeling needed.  I thought codependency only pertained to two people that depended heavily upon one another.  Now I’m learning that my strengths of being helpful, self-sacrificing, hard-working, trustworthy, and self-sufficient can turn into codependency when the need to be needed becomes a major factor in order to feel valued.  I have to admit that I have felt the need to be needed many times.  This is heavy duty stuff y’all.

Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Burdens Carried Over from Childhood


Comedy is tragedy plus time.  This is a famous quote by American author and humorist, Mark Twain, and this quote is a fundamental truth about much humor.  Imagine that you see a person riding a bike down a hill and flipping head over heels into a pond.  If this happened as you watched, it would be a tragedy -- head injuries, etc.  But imagine looking back on this event, given the distance of time, and distance from the upsetting emotions of the moment.  The visual imagery can be quite funny.  Many times we can look back at events in our own life -- a lover breaking up with you, for example -- and we can laugh about this years later.  
This is what I’ve been doing regarding incidents involving my father’s drinking when I was growing up.  My father died over 30 year ago and my mother and I still laugh at some of his incidents of disappointing us; like the time he failed to pick us up from the Greyhound bus station after we traveled 22 hours from Florida.  When we finally arrived home after midnight, he had locked the storm door and was in the house passed out.  We stood outside knocking and calling him for over an hour.  Now when we recall this and other stories we laugh.  I guess we laugh to keep from crying or being incensed about it all over again.  But I fear we are only kidding ourselves.  My mother, like me is an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.  Her coping mechanism was to laugh or joke about the embarrassment her father caused.  I chose to ignore my father as often as I possibility could. 


ACOA literature teaches that ACOAs are unable to relax and have fun because it is stressful, especially when others are watching.  I feel that this is spot on in my case.  I didn’t want anyone to know that I had a drunk for a father.  To this day, I really don’t want people to know that I am married to an alcoholic.  Well, they know now --- but the child inside me is frightened, and in an effort to appear perfect, I try to exercise strict self-control.  It’s just more built up burdens from childhood.  It’s getting mighty heavy.


Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

 

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Guilt and Depression


When you ask people what are the signs of depression you usually get responses such as lackluster, despair, hopelessness or loneliness.  This too would be my response if asked to describe depression.  So I confidently declare that I am not, nor have I ever been depressed.  However, ACOA is showing me something different.  I may have to change my opinion.  I read an article on WebMD about guilt and depression and it struck a chord with me.

 

My mother is 84 years old and I thank God for her; but sometimes she drives me crazy.  She can get an unreasonable notion in her head and no one can change her opinion.  She can also be downright ornery in public at times, which is just not cool to me.  I feel guilty about writing this and even thinking it.  ACOA has shown me that I have an obsessive-compulsive trait and as such, I am prone to excessive deliberating about my own actions; driving up my guilt quotient.  The article reminded me that women build self-esteem through relationships.  And as women we have to make sure no one thinks we are being selfish.  That truth just smacked me across the face.  Now I understand that guilt is an underlying cause of my stress. 

 

The article warned that guilt also takes a toll on an already fragile mental state, and contributes greatly to depression and anxiety.  I believe these feelings have been building up in me since childhood.  It’s going to take some time to unravel all the suffocating.  But it can be done.  I’m just taking it one day at a time.

 

Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

 

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

The Grief Build-Up

I have read a number of articles on the Internet listing the characteristics and personality traits of adults who grew up with alcoholism in the home; many list the same traits.  However, I stumbled upon one article that listed something that I never saw before in my research.  It said that ACOAs suffer from an accumulation of grief; a build-up of sorts.  The article stated that the losses ACOAs experienced during their childhood were often never grieved because the alcoholic family does not tolerate intense uncomfortable feelings.

This got me thinking about my childhood.  I spent a lot of time alone but when I was seven my mother’s employer gave me a kitten named Tiger.  Tiger and I were best buds; we did everything together.  But as unneutered boy cats will be boy cats, Tiger longed to go outside and commune with the wild; or a close facsimile, namely our backyard.  One day, Tiger got into an altercation with a squirrel; and the squirrel won.  Tiger was rushed to the veterinarian and never returned home.  My mother never told me what happened to Tiger, not even now after 45 years!  I suspect he had to be put down.  The point is I never had the opportunity to grieve the loss of my favorite pet.  Coincidently, two other family pets went to the vet’s and never returned.
As I got older and began attending funeral services of church members, my mother often pointed out to me that when people made a scene at the funeral, guilt was the root cause.  If she had been a good daughter to her mother she wouldn’t have been doing all the whooping and hollering, my mother often said when we returned home.  That stuck with me for a long time.  Thinking about it now I recall at my grandfather, aunts and father’s funerals, I displayed little emotion and there were no outbursts from me.  The article also mentioned that ACOAs are frequently depressed.  I think that a build-up of grief is cause for depression.  I will examine this further.

Hi I'm Liz Hawkins and I'm an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.