It's not apples and oranges

My father was an alcoholic.  Although I loved my father, I hated is habitual drinking.  For one thing it was embarrassing to me.  Do you remember the old Andy Griffith television shows, where Andy played the sheriff and Don Knotts played his deputy, Barney?  Every weekend Otis the town drunk stumbled into the jailhouse; locked himself up in one of the cells, and slept it off.  In later years, the television show Good Times had a similar character they referred to as Ned the wino.  These characters were always good for a laugh but I secretly despised them.  To me, their image represented all alcoholics, which included my father.  I didn’t take on the habit of consuming alcohol.  Don’t get me wrong, I drink and have been drunk on occasion, but I’m no alcoholic.  I have been proud of that fact for years.  However, ACOA material has opened my eyes to my addiction, which is food.  I learned that common addictions include unhealthy and repeated over-use of alcohol, drugs, gambling, smoking, and yes eating.  Food addiction is, quite simply, being addicted to junk food in the same way as drug addicts are addicted to drugs.  It involves the same areas in the brain, the same neurotransmitters and many of the symptoms are identical.  I have a bowl in my office that I used to fill with peppermint candy.  I had to stop filling that bowl because by the end of the day, the candy would all be gone.  I would compulsively eat the peppermint when I was stressed and anxious working on a project.  As I write this blog post, it’s important to note that I just finished off a huge slice of carrot cake because getting my blog post completed on deadline is stressful to me.  I realize that my junk food addiction is as serious as alcoholism and drug abuse.  Compulsive eating can lead to type 2 diabetes and obesity.  So here’s another eye-opening revelation in my quest to understand the effects of being ACOA.



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

The Procrastinating Me

There is a poster that depicts a huge polar bear lying flat on the ice.  The caption reads: "When I get the feeling to do something, I lie down until the feeling goes away".  This is the sign of the resigned procrastinator: broken by frustration, unable to catch up, chained by depression and sustained by the simple apathetic response, "I don't care anymore".  Well, I cannot say I’m that bad but my procrastination really gets on my nerves sometime.  I find myself having arguments with myself, saying “you know you need to do this or that” or “if you don’t get started now you’re not going to be able to finish on time.”  It’s maddening.  I know procrastination must be an ACOA trait because it seems to go hand in hand with my propensity to avoid situations that I find uncomfortable or tasks the dread undertaking.  When I do prod myself to work on whatever job I’d been putting off, I find that it’s so easy for me to get distracted.  I can be researching something on the Internet for a school project then find myself checking my Facebook page.  During my continued research in ACOA characteristics, I learned that in fear-motivated procrastination, you have to try to identify the fear.  For example, as a Trinity University student, I may drag my feet in completing a class project because of a fear of obtaining a poor grade.  An accounts analyst may find it a chore to complete even one assignment towards his or her CGA certification because of fear of the material itself.  This example may in fact have to do with the persons’ lack of aptitude in his or her chosen field.  In a nutshell, both the fear and the sources of that fear must be confronted before the behaviors expressed by procrastination can be addressed.  I’m trying to get to the source of my fear so I can start dealing with my problems head on and quit procrastinating.  One day at a time.

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

The Lost Child

My research on the characteristics of the Adult Child of an Alcoholic (ACOA) has been both eye-opening and disconcerting.  On the one hand, I am gaining a greater understanding into my own psyche; getting in touch with my inner self or inner child.  On the other hand, it’s a little unsettling to learn all this stuff so late in life.  I’ve been surfing the Internet and reading various articles about ACOAs.  In my reading, I discovered that I identified with being what is called the “lost child”.  The lost child demands little and receives the same.  Positive characteristics include having good observation skills, being a good listener, being independent, and not demanding of others.  Negative characteristics include denying one’s own feelings, being detached, unable to develop close relationships, and depression.  This made me depressed just reading it.  It reminded me of some of my past romantic relationships.  For example, I would always be the one that gave the great Christmas gifts, especially if my boyfriend at the time had children.  I rarely received gifts in return.  When asked what I wanted, I always said that I didn’t need anything.  I think I secretly wanted them to be creative and come up with a gift for me on their own.  This proved to be a double edged sword because, when I did receive an occasional gift, I was generally disappointed.  However, I never expressed my disappointment.  I always conveyed my gratitude and told myself that it was the thought that counted; thus denying my feelings.  Thinking about it now, I have to ask myself how much of this disposition had to do with being ACOA or the religious teachings that were imposed on me.  We were taught in bible school to be like Jesus, who was meek as a lamb.  I will have more to ponder another day.

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

ACOAs fear emotions and feelings

Today I learned that ACOAs fear emotions or feelings.  We tend to bury our feelings (particularly anger and sadness).  Since childhood, we are not able to feel or express emotions easily.  Ultimately, we fear all powerful emotions and even fear positive emotions like fun and joy.  This sounds crazy to me but now that I am aware of it and hindsight being 20/20, I can clearly see that this is true.  I remember the day of my father’s funeral feeling like I had to hold it together.  I refused to display any outburst of emotion.  I reasoned that the root cause for such outcries was guilt.  I felt that I had been a good and dutiful daughter.  There was no need for tears, sobs, and any other eruptions.  Although I cried my eyes out when I got home; alone in my room, thinking back on it I must have seemed odd or even cold to the casual observer.  I always thought it was just who I was; calm in the face of great sadness, chaos or confusion.  I remember when I was a child that crying didn’t get me anything.  You get no sympathy from me, my father used to say when I cried constantly about one thing or another that I had ask him to do for me or buy for me.  Eventually, I learn not to ask for anything unless I was sure of an affirmative response.  It all goes back to my fear of being disappointed.  My father and his drinking was a great disappointment to me as well as an embarrassment.  I feared people would judge me harshly because of him.  I swear, learning all this stuff about me so late in my life is heavy duty.  I just hope the adage “Knowledge is Power” proves to be the truth.

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

The Peacemaking People Pleaser

I always thought axioms like “Walking a Mile for Peace” and “Avoid Conflict at all Cost” were good words to live by.  Now I understand that as an ACOA it’s simply my go-to approach to conflict.  Conflicts are inevitable.  Conflict is part of all relationships between individuals who live and work together.  But ACOAs have a fear of people who are in authority, people who are angry, and we don’t take personal criticism very well.  We also tend to misinterpret assertiveness for anger.  So we are constantly seeking approval of others; sometimes losing our identities in the process.  I have definitely been guilty of going along to get along and people pleasing.  I don’t like the back and forth people go through trying to get their point across or trying to get their own way.  Aggressive people do, at times, intimate me.  Although not the alcoholic in the family, growing up my mother was very aggressive and I could never win an argument with her to save my life.  She would have a hundred reasons for why I couldn't do something or go someplace.  I learned only ask for things that I knew fit her specifications.  Consequently, I spent a great deal of my youth in a self-imposed isolation.

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

Showing Little to No Emotion

Today I learned that ACOAs fear emotions or feelings.  We tend to bury our feelings (particularly anger and sadness).  Since childhood, we are not able to feel or express emotions easily.  Ultimately, we fear all powerful emotions and even fear positive emotions like fun and joy.  This sounds crazy to me but now that I am aware of it and hindsight being 20/20, I can clearly see that this is true.  I remember the day of my father’s funeral feeling like I had to hold it together.  I refused to display any outburst of emotion.  I reasoned that the root cause for such outcries was guilt.  I felt that I had been a good and dutiful daughter.  There was no need for tears, sobs, and any other eruptions.  Although I cried my eyes out when I got home; alone in my room, thinking back on it I must have seemed odd or even cold to the casual observer.  I always thought it was just who I was; calm in the face of great sadness, chaos or confusion.  I remember when I was a child that crying didn’t get me anything.  You get no sympathy from me, my father used to say when I cried constantly about one thing or another that I asked him to do for me or buy for me.  Eventually, I learn not to ask for anything unless I was sure of an affirmative response.  It all goes back to my fear of being disappointed.  My father and his drinking was a great disappointment to me as well as an embarrassment.  I feared people would judge me harshly because of him.  I swear, learning all this stuff about myself so late in my life is heavy duty.  I just hope the adage “Knowledge is Power” proves to be the truth.
Hi, I’m Liz Hawkins and I’m an Adult Child of an Alcoholic.

It's All About Control

As an ACOA, one of my fears is losing control.  I must maintain control over my behavior and feelings.  When things aren’t clicking on all cylinders, I am not a happy camper.  The ACOA literature that I have been reading says that we do this because we are afraid that if we relinquish control, our lives will get worse, and we can become very anxious when we are unable to control a situation.  For me, I think this relates to my father because I never could completely depend on him.  He might promise me something like buying me a new bike; but when the time came he would renege.  He’d offer an excuse like it cost too much.  I’d be thinking to myself - dude you knew the price when you made the offer.  If there was an event at school that I wanted him to attend, I couldn’t count on him actually showing up.  Even worse, if he did show up, I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t be drunk and embarrass me.  I eventually learned to do a lot of things on my own.  And if I couldn’t do it on my own, I did without.  It’s been a coping mechanism that I have employed for over four decades now.  Unlearning these habits is not an easy task.  But what is worse is the awareness of it all.  Now I know what I am doing and why.  It’s like an inner voice inside me is pointing out my faults to me at every turn.  You’re trying to control the situation again Liz, I often hear it saying these days.  When I was selecting my courses at Trinity for the spring 2016 semester I heard it say, you’re just avoiding signing up for that class because you think it’s hard.  It’s so annoying.

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