Shedding 2016

I had a dream last night.  I don’t remember what it was about exactly but a snake figured prominently.  Oddly, when I awoke, I wasn’t afraid but I was curious about the significance of the snake.

Snakes shed their skin to allow for further growth and to remove parasites that have attached to their old skin.  As a snake grows, its skin becomes stretched.  The classic dream of the snake is a symbol of transformation. 

This year, through my continued learning about being an adult child of an alcoholic, I can see that I have grown.  I have shed a lot of my old insecurities, self-doubt, people pleasing, and other classic adult child characteristics.  I have also removed people from my life who sought to bring me down rather than lift me up.  The transformation is uncomfortable but worth it because I’m finally becoming the person my Creator made me to be.

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

The Gift of Change

As we enter the season of giving I can’t help but to reflect on my life.  A year ago I was discovering what it means to my life to be an Adult Child of an Alcoholic (ACOA).  Through study and gaining knowledge I’ve been able to make many small but significant changes in my life and in myself.

With these changes also came a spiritual transformation.  With the outcome of the 2016 United States Presidential election, the world seems to have been tossed off its axis.  What does this mean for humanity?  Sorry, it’s my ACOA trait – anxiety kicking in. 

When I say I want world peace, first I have to understand that without inner peace, there will be no world peace.  One of the ways in which I can serve the cause of humanity is to be within myself; a genuinely spiritual person respecting all sects and creeds, but standing on my own as a conduit of higher truth.  I will not wait for peace to be handed to me as a gift for good behavior but will do the inner work needed to achieve it.

I look forward to continued growth and transformation in the coming New Year.  Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

#ACoAAwareness

www.innerlook.com

Distorted Reasoning

Some ACOAs suffer with distorted reasoning, a disease that distorts the reasoning all around them.  Because we try so hard to hide the pain of watching ourselves and those we love become mired in the disease and losing our grip on our own happiness, we use our thinking to twist and bend the truth into a more palatable shape.

We rationalize and deny what is right in front of us, make excuses and sometimes lie because it makes us feel better than to admit the truth.  The alcoholic lies to hide their uses and abuses, the family members lie to hide the extent of addiction and their fear, pain, and confusion. 

Soon our thinking becomes so filled with denial and rationalization that we lose our own sense of what is normal.  Eventually, our sense of reality becomes distorted.  This was the story of my life.  But now I am able to tolerate the truth because I know that I have a program, I have accepted the things I cannot change and changed the things I can.

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

#ACOAAwareness

@TrinityUniv

www.Innerlook.com

The Confusion Inside

In the bible, James 3:13-14, it says “the reason there is so much confusion around you is because there is so much confusion in you.”  The root word for confusion is confuse, which means to be unclear, indistinct, and to have no clarity.

Because Adult Children of Alcoholics live with constant dysfunction, we don’t know what’s normal.  We have to guess or try to figure it out on our own.  We see our friends’ parents and the television moms like Mrs. Brady, God rest her soul, and wonder why our family life looks so different.

We feel different from everyone else; like the odd ball.  Some of us try desperately to fit in at any cost.  It’s no wonder there is so much confusion inside.

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

ACOAs and Interpersonal Relationships

Growing up with an alcoholic father caused me to have some problems with interpersonal relationships.  I find that I need help to learn the things that I was deprived of growing up.  As a child, the world within an alcoholic household was both unpredictable and unstable.

Daughters need to feel that they can count on their father to care for them and to love them.  I certainly could not depend on my father.  Promises made while he was drunk were soon forgotten when he was sober.

The stages for development that all children need are proper nurturing, support and guidance.  My father was seriously lacking in these areas and as a result I did not develop a sense of self, and sense of self-esteem, like other children did.

I’m grateful for knowledge and the great strides that I’ve made in the past year.  Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m a recovering Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

#ACoA_Awareness
#myacoalife
#breakinggenerationalcurses

Thanksgiving Past

I used to dread the holidays.  My dysfunction family made it impossible to love.  After my father died and we kids were all on our own, we used to gather the family together for the holidays.

After dinner, my brothers and their wives would gather around the television drinking.  It would not be long before a fight ensued.  It would either be brother against brother; husband against wife, or sisters-in-law arguing with one another.  Their children were young, but I know it had to affect them.  I did my best to comfort the kids who watched their out-of-control parents in horror.

I don’t like the holidays that much because of my past experience.  These days a quiet dinner at home with my spouse is good enough for me.

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

So What’s Good about being ACoA?

Sometimes I get sick and tired of the negative characteristics of being an offspring of an alcoholic.  We have to be more than just a sad face hiding behind a mask.  Some of the negative characteristics are children of alcoholic tend to lie when it would be just as easy to tell the truth; they don’t cope well with change; they have a hard time expressing their needs; they tend to be indecisive, the list goes on.  Do ACOAs have any good characteristics?

Amy Eden, author of Adult-Child Issues, Raise Yourself Up offers that we can take those negative characters and use them for good.  We can even change the world by realizing that we are tough, imaginative, sensitive, and creative.

An online article entitled What’s Your Great Asset provides 5 strengths of an ACOA:

We can empathize:  We are exceptional listeners.  We’ve spent so many years thinking about the feelings of other, before ourselves, that we’re deeply talented at putting ourselves in other people’s shoes.

We are independent:  Because we didn’t think highly of the authority figures in charge of us for so many years, we’ve got lots of opinions about how to run things.

We are creative:  So many children of alcoholics go into the arts.  They are actors, writers, and painters.  Our sensitivity – to animals, to people in pain – gives us a third eye and ear that allows us to see and hear the realities of the human condition.

We are resilient:  We are survivors.  We are growing, healing, and redefining our futures.  Resilience is the ability to recover from insult or injury.

We are calm:  Children of alcoholics would make great emergency room doctors, nurses, paramedics, or fire fighters.  We are hard to shock, and we can stay calm in the midst of chaos.

This list makes me feel like less of a freak and more like a regular person.  Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m a recovering Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

#ACoA_Awareness

Breaking the chains

It saddens me that I have wasted so much of my life being bound by the chains of ACOA family dysfunction.  When I think back when I was elementary school, my teachers often commented on my report card that: Elizabeth is not working at her full potential.

I was an under-achiever because I was hiding under the shame of my dysfunctional family structure.  I never wanted to attract attention to myself.  I never wanted stand out or be singled out.  I downplayed my talents and dummied down my intelligence.  I just wanted to fit in and be normal.  The problem was - I didn't know what normal looked like. 

To be honest, I haven’t changed much.  But being introduced to the Adult Children of Alcoholics Organization has really helped me understand the effects of growing up with an alcoholic parent.  That’s why I am advocating for a national awareness day.  There are adults now in their 20s, 30s, 40s, even 50s and beyond that don’t realize they are ACOA.  An awareness day could make a difference in their lives. 

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

#myacoalife

#ACoA_Awareness

Follow me on Twitter @TrinityUniv

Have Fun

Growing up with an alcoholic father and an ACOA mother placed a high burden of responsibility on me and I was constantly seeking approval.  This has stayed with me throughout my adulthood.  I tend to be oversensitive to the needs of others; my self-esteem seems to come from other people’s judgments, and I seem to have a need for perfectionism and acceptance.

I also find it hard to completely relax.  Even when everything is going great, I’m usually worrying about something.  However, I cherish those rare moments when I can completely be in the moment, relax and be myself.  One such moments came recently when I attended my grand-nephew’s first birthday party. 

Ever since I began to understand what it means to be ACOA, I am learning to have fun like my life depends on it.  For ACOAs this is really hard to do.  The truth is, living with an alcoholic is the most boring thing you will ever do.  All that burden of responsibility, being on edge 24/7, having to be the sensible one, the entire time.  It’s exhausting.
I pledge to myself to make more time for fun activities and unburden myself from the past.  Letting my hair down won’t turn me into my alcoholic parent; it will release me from the responsibility trap it put on me.

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

#myacoalife

Stop Beating Myself Up

One of my favorite songs is called Don’t Let Me Get Me by Pink.  The first line in the chorus: Don’t let me get me.  I’m my own worst enemy, really speaks to me.  I feel like I get in my own way because of lack of faith in myself. 

I spend more time regretting things that I’ve done or decisions I’ve made because I don’t seem to trust myself or trust my instincts.  For example, back in March I was signed up for a Media Ethics course at Trinity University.  The class description looked tedious and talked myself out of taking the class; so I dropped it.  I’ll take my final two courses in the fall, I rationalized.  I was signed up for economics and another course when in August the University informed me that I was not required to take the economics class.  I could have kicked myself.  If I’d only taken that Media Ethics class in March, I would have been finished taking all my required courses for graduation.

Author Peter Shallard wrote, if you beat yourself up, or if you think you’re not doing good-enough, or if you constantly feel like you’ve got under-utilized potential then you don’t trust yourself.  It’s true.  I seem to be terrified to allow myself to feel good.  Shallard says that we are afraid that if we do feel good, our motivational drive will disappear.  We don’t trust we will still want to create, give or grow.

The challenge for me is to find a way to break the self-perpetuating cycle that I’ve created of stress and anxiety to ensure I never get to the happy place.  That way I can finally stop beating myself up; give myself a break and be happy.

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

#myacoalife

#generationaladdictions

The Neutral Character

I used to think that being a neutral person was a good thing.  It seemed to keep me on the path of non-resistance, where I felt safe.  And it helped me to avoid conflict, which I detest.  When I became a writer I found that the 'neutral character' did not seem to be a good idea.  This character doesn’t feel strongly one way or the other when it comes to good versus evil or law versus chaos. 

Growing up in an alcoholic home, one of my first successful coping mechanisms was isolation.  I could play by myself for hours; engrossed in my own perfect make believe world.  As a recovery ACOA I’m learning that neutrality hinder growth and isolation is both a sanctuary and a prison.  As a result, I now sometimes find myself suspended between fight or flight; agonizing in the middle, and resolving the tension by explosive bursts of rebellion or by silently enduring the despair.

Moving from neutrality and isolation is the first step an Adult Child must make in recovery.  They have been my security blanket for so long that I am finding it difficult to release.  But I am changing with God's help.

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

#myacoalife
#generationaladdictions

Receiving is harder than giving

I grew up hearing idioms such as: it's better to give than to receive.  I supposed the reason for this was to safeguard me from becoming a selfish, self-centered person.  However, recognizing others' needs; honoring their feelings, and being responsive to the needs of others while ignoring my own needs has been a big problem for me growing up a child of an alcoholic.

There is a hidden downside to prioritizing giving over receiving; it has to do with interpersonal relating.  I find it difficult to receive love, caring and compliments.  I silently squirm inside when someone offers a kind word or a present.

Growing up in an alcoholic home I took on the role of the hero or responsible child.  And I'm just learning that this role is not all good.  My alcoholic father did not provide emotional support to the family, and my ACOA mother focused on that absence.  This left me to fend on my own.  I learned to handle life and all its realities.  But I don't think I learned to handle everything very well.

I think giving and doing for others provide me with the attention and recognition that I craved.  And I've been carrying that baggage all these years.  I think the next time offers me a compliment, gift, or even a hug I will be mindful of my feelings then allow myself accept it without feeling guilty or selfish.

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

Tears are good

I grew up in a household where crying was often viewed as a means of manipulation; to get what you want.  And it wasn’t going to work in our house. I learned to repress my tears of sadness especially when it came to relationship matters. 

As a young adult woman I eventually adopted the myth of the strong black woman and worked hard at holding a lot in.  I still tend to hold myself together during stressful situations; thereby holding onto toxins that are not good for me.

My husband recently suffered a stroke and for weeks now I have been in typical ACOA perfectionist wife mode; making sure he takes his medication, getting to all his doctor’s appointments, and being his advocate when it comes to work-related matters.  Then one day I heard Stevie Wonder’s song All I Do on the radio and a flood gate of tears opened up.  The lyrics ‘all I do is think about you’ triggered something.

At first I was worried.  “What in the world is wrong with me?” I asked myself.  But then I remembered that crying a cathartic release and have healing properties.  I’m glad to know my body knows how to heal itself when my head doesn’t.

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

The Devalue Effect

Self-awareness is the conscious knowledge of one's own character, feelings, motives, and desires. The process can be painful but it leads to greater self-awareness and growth.  For the past ten months or so, I have been questioning everything I thought I knew about myself and considered normal.

I just became aware that I have difficulty accepting praise or a simple compliment on, say for instance, my hair style or clothing.  Just the other day, a co-worker noticed my onyx cat necklace. When she said she liked the necklace, my response should have been simply thank you.  But instead I said it's just costume jewelry.  Why did I devalue the necklace?  It was so unnecessary to do so.

Looking back, I realized that I have also lessened my accomplishments.  Recently, I participated in my university's tradition of Cap and Gown Convocation.  This is when members of the senior class wear their caps and gowns for the first time and are officially recognized by the university as seniors. I attended this function alone; I invited no one, not wanting to inconvenience anyone.  How lame is that?

As important as this event was; a celebration of my achievement, on some level I don't believe I valued the accomplishment.  It's like I was telling myself, it's no big deal at this point; you should have completed your undergraduate studies years ago.  Thereby, diminishing the ceremony.

As I continue to grow and become more self-aware, I vow to value myself and remember that it's all right to put myself first and to be proud of myself.

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

The Silent Woman

The Strong Black Woman (SBW) label leaves no room for vulnerability; thereby no room for healing.  Over time, the SBW gets labeled as angry, which carries a negative connotation.  On her “Fix My Life” series, spiritual life coach, Iyanla Vanzant used the term Silent Women to described those black women who give more in a relationship than they received; trying to enhance someone else’s life.

After hearing this, I realized that I’ve been the Silent Woman many times in my relationships with men over the years.  It made me wonder if the reason stems from a longing to somehow make my father’s life better.  Perhaps at an early age I sensed his pain; the shame he carried for being born out-of-wedlock, and the abandonment he must have felt from his paternal family members’ failure to acknowledge him as one of their own. 

I was the best daughter I could be but it wasn’t enough to lift his spirits and give up the drinking.  So I became the SBW for every man in my life.  Now, I understand my burdens in life and know that it’s time to let go of past hurts and be free.

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

The Child of an ACOA

I was reading through a list of feeling words in my ACOA red book.  This is like the bible for ACOAs.  The definitions described where and how different feelings are felt in the body.  As a child of an alcoholic, I learned to dissociate from my feelings. 

The ACOA red book explains that as children and teens, we based our feelings on our parents’ mood and actions.  We were hyper-vigilant to a parent’s tone of voice, body language, and gestures.  After reading this, I realized that it wasn’t so much my alcoholic father that caused my hyper-vigilance, it was my ACOA mother. 

My mother’s father was a “fall down” drunk, as she called him, and she detested his drinking.  Her feelings of anger, shame, embarrassment, and humiliation extended when she married an alcoholic.  I always seemed to be in tune with what she was feeling, and reacted to those feelings.  Thereby, never really tapping into and understanding my own feelings.  So I denied the existence of my own feelings.  I supposed that’s why I have such difficulty identifying them.  I’m still in learning mode.

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

Mirror Image

A mirror image is a reflected duplication of an object that appears almost identical, but is reversed in the direction perpendicular to the mirror surface.  When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I realize that what is being reflected back on the surface is not really as it appears.

ACOAs tend to be perfectionist.  On the surface our lives may appear fine but scratch that same surface and wounds appear.  And anxiety and control issues are rampant.  Up to this point, I have been living my entire life in a state of denial; believing I’m in control and that everything is perfect.  It may seem perfect to others but that’s only because it’s the image I present.

I never wanted to look in the mirror and see my alcoholic father reflected back at me, so I vowed never to abuse drugs or alcohol.  Yet I find myself repeating substance abuse-like patterns with food, shopping and other compulsive behaviors.  Our mirror image, on the outside, reflects the image in the opposite; if only it could reflect the true image from the inside out.  I’m just musing today.

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

My Feelings and Me

I have trouble getting in touch with my feelings.  This is because I tend to ignore my feelings or deny that I have feelings.  I try to pretend that nothing bothers me or hurts me.  I don’t like feeling vulnerable, so I always have my armor on to protect and shield myself from hurtful feelings.

This is the way my ACOA mother taught me to be.  She said crying about something that hurts you or drinking your troubles away (a dig at my father) was a waste of time.  She viewed this as being weak and I was taught to be strong, independent, and to let things like emotions roll off my back like water on a duck's back.  She was full of little idioms like that.

Anyway, it’s no wonder I felt different growing up.  I felt like a square peg trying to fit into the round circle of life.  Truthfully, I still feel that way at times.  The good news is I’m aware and can actively work on changing.

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

The Façade of the Hibiscus

I just finished reading Purple Hibiscus by Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.  It tells the lives of a Nigerian family through the eyes of the 15-year old daughter, Kambili.  She and her older brother Jaja lead a privileged life.  Their father is a wealthy and respected businessman, and they live in a beautiful house.  But soon we learned that the appearance of their happy home life is just a façade.

As an adult child of an alcoholic, I too feel that my life is somewhat of a façade.  The outer appearance that I show to the world is what I believe the world expects to see and is normal.  However, I realize that I don’t really know what normal is.  What I’m familiar with is family dysfunction.  It’s been my only model growing up in a home with an alcoholic father and ACOA mother.  My choices in life and in choosing a mate were based purely on what was familiar to me.  I didn’t know any better then but that familiarity has bred contempt over the years.

In North America, hibiscus symbolizes a perfect wife or woman.  I have lived the majority of my life trying to be perfect; only in recent years understanding that perfection is part of the ACOA façade.  Learning and understanding my past is helping me to carve out a brighter future for myself.  I’m still taking things one day at a time.

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

Buried Memories

I just returned from a mini vacation to Las Vegas, Nevada, today.  It's not my first time to Vegas but during this trip the slogan '"What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" struck a familiar chord.  One of the cardinal rules growing up in an alcoholic home is "There's nothing wrong here and don't you dare tell anyone."  To talk openly about growing up with an alcoholic parent is like breaking the shroud of silence.

My mother, like me, is also an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.  She grew up experiencing the shame of having a drunk for a father too.  And she passed on the message to me that what happens in our house, and what's said is no one else's business.

I was in denial about my family situation for many years.  I convinced myself that my life and upbringing was normal and I had come through just fine.  But when I overcame the barrier of denial, I see that I have been profoundly affected because it requires me to confront the consequences of this disease in a very personal way.

Although I have learned so much in the last eight months or so about how I've been affected by my father's drinking, I still find it hard to believe that I'm not perfectly fine and unaffected by it all.  I supposed I've been great at hiding my feelings or burying my emotions so far down that I've forgotten that they exist.  In fact, I feel that I have some form of selected memory loss because I don't remember much of my childhood.  I seem to have gotten really good at forgetting the unpleasant memories and only recalling the pleasant memories.

When I do recall an unpleasant memory, I tend to turn it into a joke.  I wonder if I should seek professional help in recollecting the unpleasant memories and deal with them; or just let them be. It just something more for me to ponder.

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

Making Time for Me

Someone once told me that with all I have accomplished in the past year or so, it looks like I’m just starting up when most people my age are slowing down.  Simply put, I seem to be a late bloomer.  I was taken aback by this at first; even a little miffed.  But I finally had to concede that that statement was nothing more than an honest observation.

All my life, I have been taking care of everyone else; solving everyone’s problems, and making sure everyone’s needs were met.  It’s a typical ACOA trait sometimes labeled as The Hero.  Also known as The Model Child, we tend to take over family responsibilities; can be an enabler of the alcoholic parent, and ignore our own wants and needs.  The latter is especially true in my case. 

I told the person that referred to me as a late bloomer that I have been taking care of others all my life and have taken no time to care for myself.  Recently, I re-dedicated myself to working on the second draft of my book.  Then my mother announced that she is ready to move into an assisted living facility.  So I have thirty days to arrange everything for her move.  This leaves little time for me to keep the promise I made to myself; to work on my book.

Taking care of the needs of others is so imbedded that it’s hard for me to know how to put myself first.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m always going to take care of my mom.  But I’ve noticed that I have a pattern of saying that I’m going to start doing this or that for myself, and something else comes along and shifts my attention from me to something or someone else. 

Being able to take care of my needs; putting myself first without feeling guilty or that I’m being selfish is something that I struggle with almost every day.  Does anyone else ever feel this way?  Hit me up in the comment box.  I’d like to hear what others are experiencing.  In the meantime, I’m taking baby steps to make that change; making time for me.

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

Reflecting on the past

Sometimes when I take time to reflect on my life, I recall the string of male love interest and think:  What in the world was I thinking?  The answer is that I was not thinking; just reacting to what was familiar to me.

Adult children of alcoholics are sometimes attracted to what is called high-risk relationships.  These relationships are exciting; make you feel needed; offer freedom, and exclusivity.  These are all the things I was denied growing up in my dysfunctional home.  Although, I knew deep inside myself that the high-risk relationship was toxic, it seemed to fill a need that I’d been craving at the time.  It was also addictive.  And just like getting high, getting drunk, or overeating, you feel bad afterward.

They say hindsight is 20/20.  I so blessed to be able to look back and listen to my past; understand it and learn from it.

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

Walking through the journey of life

Sigmund Freud, the father of modern psychoanalytic theory, believed dreams represented a disguised fulfillment of a repressed wish.  He believed studying dreams provided the easiest road to understanding the unconscious activities of the mind.  According to Freud, all of our experiences are stored in the unconscious and have an effect on our minds and behaviors.

I had my recurring dream of being in a building and searching for the exit.  But in a recent dream I found my way out.  I then began walking for what seemed like an eternity until I finally woke up.  I learned that walking in your dreams is a symbolic journey of life, and it can mean new beginnings.  As my work environment changes and my duties continue to evolve, my reaction to outside changes as an ACOA intensified.

I considered if I was happy or content in my dream and learned that if I’m simply walking away from a situation, then this can mean I will be forced to make a choice in my life in the near future.  I believe that on an unconscious level, I already knew this was true.  My decision whether or not to retire in 2018 depends on my level of happiest or contentment with my current work situation and what changes lie ahead in the future. 

ACOAs tend to be hyper vigilant and constantly scan their surroundings for potential catastrophes.  This is a trait that I must get a handle on.  My challenge is to adapt the Spanish phrase que sera, sera (whatever will be will be) to my daily mantra.  I must rest in the knowledge that if something is fated to happen, I cannot stop it from happening.  I cannot foretell (or control) the future.

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

The Doors of Life

One thing that I do not like is change to my environment.  A few months ago, I was placed on a temporary work detail for 120 days to another position within the organization.  My hope was that once the detail expired I would returned to my job.  But when I asked management about it, I was told that the detail would be extended for another 120 days.

I did not like this news.  My anxiety levels nearly went through the roof.  Then I began having a recurring dream.  I dreamed that I was in a building that I could not seem to find the exit.  Each door I opened led to another room but none led me outside; where I wanted to be.  Finally, I checked the dream catcher app on my mobile phone and learned that a door represents a new beginning or a transition from one phase of life to another.  This did not surprise me.  In fact, deep down I knew this was true, and that I would most likely remain on the work detail.  My ACOA denial trait was in full force.

But I remembered the Alcoholics Anonymous serenity prayer; ACOA has a similar prayer:  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.  So I am resting in this serenity and taking things one day at a time.  I see it as another opportunity to grow.

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

The ACOA Mask

I read a blog that said ACOAs wear masks on a daily basis to hide who they really are from others.  After reading this I thought: Boy, without even knowing me this blogger has me pegged.  Growing up with an alcoholic father and an ACOA mother really did a number on me; not to mention my home environment.

I learned to put on an outer persona that I showed to the outside world while stuffing my true feelings way deep inside.  I’d buried my true self so deep for so long that I didn’t really know the girl behind the ACOA mask.  I still wear the mask even though I’m discovering and embracing my true self. 

Because of the ACOA mask that I’ve worn over the years, I didn’t develop healthy coping skill, so I became an avoider.  Anything I deemed hard, I’d avoid and opted to take the path of least resistance.  Also, my inability to be my true self caused me a great deal of anxiety; and dare I say, even depression.

Being in recovery has afforded me the opportunity to uncover, examine and work through the effects of being raised in an alcoholic home.  And slowly my ACOA mask is coming off.

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

Fight or Flight

As an adult child of an alcoholic I have learned that we tend to have compulsive personalities, which predisposes us to developing addictions.  Because I despised my father’s drinking so much, I vowed not to become a drunk like him.  However, I did become an emotional eater.  When ACOAs overeat or binge eat, we are eating to meet a need.

Karly Randolph Pitman, author of Overcoming Sugar Addition, says that no matter how we are using food, we heal by turning toward our pain; relating to it with kindness and compassion.  One of the needs that drives overeating is the fight or flight response, also known as the acute stress response.  This is eating to soothe the build-up of anxiety, fear, inner tension, or stress.  Pitman explains that in this instance, overeating is almost like a panic attack.  When you finally eat that donut or chocolate cake, the anxiety has reached its breaking point, and you turn to food to cope.  When you binge or overeat, you initially feel better because you have lowered the anxiety and stress.  You’re not in fight or flight anymore, but you feel terrible for bingeing. 

This has been the story of my life and I never recognized it as a problem until now.  When I was a child I ate all the sweets I desired; just being a kid I surmised.  But when I started having weight issues as an adult, it is not so easy to give up the food that gives so much comfort.  I often find myself in a vicious cycle of dieting and losing weight, only to binge eat and regain the weight back (and more).  Food became my drug of choice, as alcohol was my father’s drug of choice.

Today, I’m trying to find ways to lower my anxiety and inner tension.  ACOAs tend to put a lot of pressure on themselves.  For me, I know this is true.  I am learning to relax my standards a bit and give myself a break.  I’m still a work in progress – taking it one day at a time.

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

The Power of I AM

Joel Osteen, in his book The Power of I AM, says that whatever follows the words I AM will come looking for you.  So, when you go through the day saying: I am blessed; blessings pursue you.  I am talented; talent follows you.  I am healthy; health heads your way.  I am strong; strength tracks you down, and so on.

I thought about this and recognized how I end my blog post every week with: Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.  From this day forward, I am modifying this statement to: Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m a recovering Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Like anyone struggling with an addiction, recovery is a process of change through which an individual achieves abstinence and improved health, wellness, and quality of life.  To continue to categorize myself as simply an Adult Child of an Alcoholic implies that I accept it as a perpetual never changing part of my life.

While I do accept that being ACOA has shaped my life, I now understand my behavior and its root cause.  I do not, however, accept that I cannot change and grow; because I can, and I am changing and growing.

Although, the journey through denial, self-awareness, and personal growth continues to be challenging, I wouldn’t give anything for my journey thus far.

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

Dead Man Walking

As I pen my memoir, I have been interviewing my family member for more insight into my father's character.  My mother, in her commentary, described my father as a dead man walking.  She didn’t elaborate further but later I surmised that my father was in a perpetual state of never-changing.  He often said that people basically don’t change.  I wonder if on some unconscious or subconscious lever he was referring to himself.

From the time of his birth outside of wedlock in the 1910s he was blatantly ignored by his paternal side of the family.  In fact, he did not even know his neighbors were actually family.  Because he was abandoned and ostracized by his paternal family, he grew up making choices that destroyed his family emotionally, including substance abuse.  He sought solace in the bottle and remained in that perpetual state, hiding himself from the world and self-medicating to relieve his pain, his entire life.

Thank God I am breaking the cycle; one day at a time.  Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

Out of darkness

I stopped attending ACOA meetings after about two months.  I think I’m still in denial about my family dynamic.  In the meetings, I’d listen to everyone’s experience and think: I just don’t relate to their experiences. 

The ACOA trait that states:  ACOAs have stuffed their feelings from traumatic childhoods and have lost the ability to feel or express their feelings because it hurts so much (Denial), resonates with me, although I still have trouble characterizing my childhood as traumatic.

Because my father wasn’t this raging alcoholic that terrorized the family with physical abuse, I could not relate to the stories I heard in the ACOA meetings.  But clinical research strongly suggests that the emotional and physical trauma that children of alcoholics endure does not go away.  In some cases the stored hurt creates a dissociative effect in adults.

The person appears to function normally in society, but the stored trauma is there, creating bodily ailments that can appear as depression, anxiety, hyperactivity, or laziness.  All my life I have suffered with all these traits at one time or another.

When my writing couch asked me about how my father’s drinking affected me, I was truly baffled.  I’ve not been affected at all, I quickly retorted.  Now I know that because I have been holding down or avoiding my feelings all my life, I have been living in state of perpetual denial.  It’s time to step out of the deep caves of darkness and into the light.

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

Intimacy Issues

Developing the skills necessary to establish positive emotional intimacy is the most critical developmental task for children of alcoholics.  Intimacy problems begin when people push you away and reject you.  The core of all intimacy problems is a fear that other people will abandon you.

Growing up, my family did not hug and kiss each other and there were no verbal expressions of love.  My father was born out of wedlock and rejected by his paternal side of the family.  My mother was a child of an alcoholic parent.  Between the two, neither of my parents developed the skills needed to express emotional closeness.

I grew up being emotionally isolated from my own feelings and from people around me.  As an adult, I confused intimacy with something else.  For example, for years in my relationships with men, I constantly gave too much in hopes of receiving something in return.  Instead of the intimacy I sought, I just got taken for granted.  Robin Norwood points this problem out repeatedly in her book Women Who Love Too Much (1985).

I am thankful for this knowledge.  It keeps me from continuing on the emotionless track that I traveled for years.  I must say knowledge is very freeing.

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

Self-Sabotage II

I continue to struggle with my weight loss efforts.  I make progress but then I’ll binge on sweets or salty snacks.  I wondered what was behind my self-sabotaging.  On some deeper level do I believe that I don’t deserve a thin body and happiness? 

In a strange way, carrying the extra weight may be much more inside my comfort zone.  As unhappy as I am with the being overweight, I already know what to expect in life – things are familiar and predictable.

These are beliefs that I either learned from others or created for myself.  However, I must learn that I don’t have to carry these beliefs any further.  Changing these beliefs will require some deep reflection and earnest effort.  But any negative beliefs I have about myself, my body or my worthiness as a person can be changed.

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

The Triangulator

When I think back on my childhood and the choices I made in my life, feelings of anger, hurt and resentment bubble up inside me.  I feel like my life would have been much more exciting and fulfilled had my parents not imposed their own will on me.  I was good daughter and did what they said.  I figured their advice and direction was for my own good and in my best interest.  But now I’m left to wonder what if I’d followed my own heart and mind.

Dr. Robert Ackerman, in his book Perfect Daughters, describes what he calls the triangulator, the adult daughter that never deals with anyone or anything directly.  She blames others or outside reasons, and makes excuses when things don’t go as planned.  I was ready to reject this characteristic applying to myself until I read further.  Dr. Ackerman said that adult-daughter triangulators probably learned their behavior from their parents’ relationship.  The daughter may have been used as the focal point between the parents because they did not want to deal directly with each other.  This was exactly my family dynamic, or rather my family dysfunction.

The result of this for me has been deep seeded anger, hurt and resentment and I reacted by channeling my emotions into negative and self-destructive behaviors.  Within my own marriage, I can see that I am a poor communicator and can be quite passive-aggressive.  In order to recover, I must learn to: (1) accept responsibility for my behavior; (2) learn appropriate ways to handle or release anger; (3) learn how to communicate directly, and (4) learn alternative ways to handle stress.

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

The Detacher

An Al-Anon blogger once posted that detachment is neither kind nor unkind.  It does not imply judgment or condemnation of the person or situation from which they are detaching.  Separating ourselves from the adverse effects of another persons’ alcoholism can be a means of detaching.  This does not necessarily require physical separation.  She said that detachment can help us look at our situation realistically and objectively.

If this blogger is suggesting that it’s all right to be a detacher, I disagree.  I certainly understand how an ACOA becomes a detacher.  Like me, they may not even realize that they are detaching.  It may have been developed as a coping mechanism from a very young age.  But knowledge is power.  And now that I can see my detacher characteristic for what it really is, I must vow to do better.

I find that when I am not willing to deal with anything or anyone that makes me uncomfortable, my first impulse is to leave.  This approach does not allow me the opportunity to work things out or find solutions.  The emotional motivation for the ACOA detacher is to avoid being hurt and trying to become non-feeling or emotionally numb.

I believed that by detaching, I was protecting myself.  I thought that if I didn’t detach, I would be vulnerable and not in control of my emotions.  The hard work begins with consciously trying to unlearn this coping mechanism that I have employed for so many years.  It’s time to face the uncomfortable situations of life head on.

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

The Resiliency of the ACOA

Ambivalence is the experience of having an attitude toward someone or something that contains both positively and negatively valence components.  I was born into a home with an alcoholic father and an ACOA mother.  At a very young age, I learned just how important resiliency is and could be, whether I was aware of it or not.

I loved my father because he was my father; the male barometer by which all men entering my life would be measured.  However, I despised his drinking.  I hated the smell, his physical imbalance, and the lowered inhibitions, which gave him the courage to say and do inappropriate things that he otherwise would not if sober.

I was embarrassed by him.  Growing up, my life was riddled with fear, hurt, pain, guilt and confusion.  But just like my ACOA mother, I married a replica of my father; another alcoholic.  So as I did when I was a child, I try to rise above it.  I keep it locked away from the world as much as possible because I am ashamed. 

I am a smart, talented, educated woman.  I’m proud of all my accomplishments.  Yet, I have this one aspect of my life that prevents me from shining; this barometric replica of my father.  The love/hate ambivalence of an adult child is like an albatross around my neck; a psychological burden.  No answers today folks - just observations.

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

A struggle just to be me

As an adult child of an alcoholic, I learned the art of people pleasing early in life.  Unpredictability, mixed messages, and erratic displays of emotion were common experiences in my home.

As an adult, I often found myself attracted to or drawn to people who exhibited the kind of inconsistent behavior and moods that I encountered growing up.  I found it difficult to understand this behavior, and had to resort to guessing to figure out how to feel or express myself.  As a result, I have a hard time expressing honest emotions.

However, through learning about ACOA, going to meetings, and much prayer, I’m growing into the person I know I was always meant to be.  I sometimes joke that it’s a shame that I learned about the effects of being ACOC so late in life; but better late than never I supposed.

Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins, and I’m an adult child of an alcoholic.

Runaway Child

I tend to be a runner; in the metaphorical sense.  If in the literal sense, I would be a lot slimmer.  But seriously…I notice as soon as I become uncomfortable, nervous, or if something is not going perfectly, I get the urge to be someplace else, be it mentally or physically.

I know this is the ACOA in me.  I recognize it, but can’t always stop it or control it.  I was recently inducted into my university’s chapter of the National Communication Association Honor Society.  I was assigned to read about 230 words at the induction ceremony; more words than any of the other seven inductees.

I remember using my entertainment center as a make shift podium to practice my reading portion out loud.  Every time I messed up, I turned and left the room.  I practiced my section over and over throughout the day.  When I practiced in my bedroom seated at my computer and fumbled my lines, I would get up, go to the front door and look out. 

So I made another discovery about myself.  I already knew about my compulsive behavior to eat when I’m stressed.  Now I recognized my urge to escape when I’m feeling uncomfortable or unsure of myself; I literally try to walk or run away.  The knowledge is power but the ability to change is the challenge.  I’m still a work in progress.

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

Self-Sabotage

For all that I have accomplished in the past year with school and writing my book, there are still aspects of my life that I have not improved.  One of my biggest challenges that I am currently facing is with my weight loss efforts.  I will lose ten pounds one month and before I know it, I have gained eleven pounds the following month.

It’s like I see myself going in the right direction then suddenly make a U-turn and travel back down the wrong road.  I am aware of what I’m doing, but for some reason I cannot stop it.  I spoke to my good friend and co-worker Dr. Nicole and she called it self-sabotage.

Self-sabotage is self-tale that communicates that we are no good; that we can’t do something, and that we can’t change.  Self-sabotage undermines our belief in ourselves and our motivation to change and grow.

I think because ACOAs tend to ignore our own needs due to the fact that our emotional needs continually take a back seat to our alcoholic parent, we make excuses and talk ourselves out of doing anything good for ourselves.

So it’s another eye-opening week for this ACOA.  I’m a work in progress.  I will continue to work on me because I’m worth it. 


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

Embrace the Challenges of Life

In her book Inside Out, author Kimberly Daniels said that “when we attempt to go around things in life instead of going through them, we keep the same mind-set.  The result is that our mind-set stays un-renewed in the areas of life where we are being challenged.”

I am a classic avoider; I own that.  The problem is that I never realized how much this character trait hurt my development in school, at work, and in life.  I had the spirit of arrested development that denies any growth. 

Now I’m starting to put myself out there more and more each day.  I’m taking on more challenging duties at work.  I can no longer allow fear to rule my life and cause me to avoid new things.  I admit I’m still nervous but as it says in the book of 2^nd Corinthian 5:7, we walk by faith, not by sight.

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

From Discomfort Comes Growth

In his book, The Healing Journey for Adult Children of Alcoholics, author Darryl E. Quick revealed that many ACOAs feel isolated and disconnected with people around them.  I certainly feel that way in social settings, especially around new people.  Quick says that it is vital for ACOAs to reach out and risk contact with others.  This way we can gain support, encouragement and the needed reality checks that help restore sanity to our chaotic existence.

Although many of us express the need to change, underneath lies a strong resistance to change.  It really does seem that for most of us the more things we want to change, the more things stay the same. We like to stay in our comfort zone.

This rings true for me.  There are three reasons why we should embrace discomfort, whether we deliberately choose it, or it simply happens to us.

1. Comfort is overrated.  It doesn't lead to happiness.  It makes us lazy and forgetful.  It often leads to self-absorption, boredom, and discontent.
2. Discomfort is a catalyst for growth.  It makes us yearn for something more.  It forces us to change, stretch, and adapt.
3. Discomfort is a sign we're making process.  You've heard the expression, no pain, no gain. It's true! When you push yourself to grow, you will experience discomfort, but in the end, it's worth it.  

The bottom line is you can either be comfortable and stagnate or stretch yourself; become uncomfortable and grow.  You may think that comfort leads to happiness; it doesn't.  Happiness comes from growth and feeling like you are making process.

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

Sink or Swim

One Friday afternoon, my director called me into his office to tell me that he is moving me from my current position in Quality Assurance to a job I previously held in the organization ten years ago in Policy and Compliance.

I was unwilling to make the move but he insisted that he needed me to do this because Policy and Compliance desperately needed help.  So I'm their savior, I thought; that cannot be possible.  I stressed about this the entire weekend.  The following week, I met with the new supervisor, then returned to my director asking him to reconsider the decision.  He insisted that Policy and Compliance needed my help and was confident that I could make a difference.

After a few days of pondering the situation, I had an epiphany.  The words sink or swim popped into my mind.  Then I remembered a story my husband told me about how he nearly drown in a pool until he had the presence of mind to relax his body.  It was only then did he float to the top.  I applied this theory to my situation.

I told myself: as long as you're struggling, you will continue to go down.  Stop struggling and just relax and you will find yourself floating to the top.  I had to remind myself about all the courses at Trinity University that I stressed over and in the end earned an 'A' in the course.  I also reminded myself about how much I agonized over completing chapters for my book and submitting to my writing coach on time and succeeding each time.

The key thing for me to remember is to simply stop struggling.  Past events have shown me that there is no need to do so because in the end, I'm going to float to the top and succeed.

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