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.