Before I ever took a drink

Before I ever drank alcohol, I was an untreated Alanon but I didn't know it.  The qualifying alcoholic in my life was my mother.  Although she never acknowledged she lived with this illness, the symptoms were glaringly obvious and certainly affected the whole family. She died last year and it is ONLY for the grace of God and the 12 Steps that I was able to be of service to her as she transitioned.  My brother, Clifford, insisted she be given a decent burial and so I did what he wanted.  I love him and knew this was important to him.

One time I told my mother, "Mom, I just want you to know I forgive you."
She said, "For what?"
She really didn't know and didn't want to know.
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In the later stages of her illustrious drinking career she had to see a doctor because she was starting to spit and vomit blood.   The doctor told her she would have to stop drinking alcohol or it was going to kill her.  She said, "But doctor, I'm in so much pain."  So her adventures with pills took full flight and she didn't drink anymore.  She was "cured" of alcoholism and no one could tell her a thing about the pills because a doctor had prescribed them.  She lived to be 78 years old and did suffer from physical problems that pain medication helped alleviate somewhat but she still hurt.  God bless her.
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My mother was not the only alcoholic in my family system.  Drinking and drugging was rife.  The ranting, raving, unpredictably was quite normal and acceptable.  Physical, mental, emotional abuses were paramount.  Emotional incest was expected otherwise it was neglect and abandonment.  Sex abuse.  Not talking, not trusting, not feeling were well taught, finely honed survival skills taught from infancy.




Recovery, for me, has been about learning to be true to myself, to speak my truth, to be able to listen and care about others' truths, to trust the process and to feel my feelings and encourage others to feel theirs...wow.