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.