Today marks 8 full weeks of sobriety for me and my family. I’m a little lost for words this morning as I’m needing some “Eat, Pray & Love” time. Whatever that means, lol. Lots to be thankful for as I sit here drinking coffee and listening to chickens and the sound of the ocean. Chickens are everywhere in Kauai, it’s crazy! My family and I are in Kauai and living like locals for 2 weeks in a friends beach house right on Hanalei Bay complete with a dog named Zumba. House sitting and dog sitting. I could get used to this. Each morning we are to feed their 2 horses who live across the way where they have taro fields. Not once have I ever experienced a trip to Hawaii like this. Anyhow, I’d like to share an article about an extraordinary individual named Kinichi who is 96 years old and lives on the property. All it took was a shake of our hands and instantly I wanted to know what the secret was to live a long life like him.
Day 51 for me and I’m really feeling like my attempts of trying to let go of certain things is beginning to work. Still struggling with other things I want to let go of but I’m getting there.
I was getting some stuff done around the house the other day and I had the music loud. I love music. I consistently have it on and enjoy all types. On this day I had shuffled the music and Bob Seager’s Still the Same plays. I love that song but it made me think of my real father….you know, that real a$$hole. When I was probably about 4 years old, my uncle, my Dad’s brother, lived with us for a short period of time and what I remember about that was a guy who took time to hangout with my brother and I. He’d build some pretty cool stuff out of tinker toys and he loved listening to Bob Seager.
A year and a half ago I had finally built up the courage to call my Dad. Let’s just refer to him by Jim. He doesn’t deserve me referring to him as my Dad because he never knew how to be one. Anyhow, I called Jim, he answered and I let him know that I had to build up the courage to make this phone call for a few years. Let him know I had 3 daughters and all I wanted was to hopefully meet up and possibly have him see my daughters. My daughters ask a lot of questions as to why I don’t have a Dad. I was hoping to somehow find some light on how to bring closure to this conversation. They have a loving dad in their life who loves them hard each and every day and I’m thankful they are growing up not knowing any different. Jim obviously has no idea how deep the pain is that I’ve had to endure my whole life due to him not being in my life. To make a long story short, after I explain and try to set up getting together he talks…..he says that he’s not interested in seeing me and therefore seeing my daughters isn’t going to happen either because of not calling him back or by reaching out sooner. So there goes me trying to show them this person who I probably resemble. He says that he had left a message on the recorder probably when I was something like 12 to invite my brother and I to see him and his wife get married. Because I didn’t call him back 29 years prior, he finds that a reason to drive that knife in my heart further. Go Jim! What a man you are….not. Anyhow, I express that he’s got to be kidding me and manage to get off of the phone before he can hear my emotions. I’m not sure if I cried because of the thought that a parent could do this to their child no matter what their age is, if it was because I had been wanting to know where I stood in his life and it was crystal clear at that moment or if it was because I was really hoping to have some kind of relationship with him. Probably a little of all of those thoughts. That would be the last time I will ever hear his voice or share a conversation ever. Does that hurt? Yes. Interesting enough, he must had called my uncle because later that afternoon I get a message from him hoping to arrange to see me and my family. Although he has a heart and I appreciated that, I really don’t want anything to do with that side of the family. It wasn’t my uncles job to make me feel better. What really gets to me though is the many times I’d hear from people that a girl really only needs her mom. A girl needs both and if you have both or had both growing up you wouldn’t really understand how it feels. I’m hoping that being honest with my feelings about Jim on this blog helps free me from the emptiness that he has put in me all these years. Hell, I might even drop him a letter and a copy of this. You’re an a$$hole, you’re a quitter and a coward. I just don’t want to own the ill feelings associated with him any longer. I’ve held onto them for too long and I’m done. Which reminds me of a few more feelings he left for me to feel for way too long. Like the time he had me for the weekend and got so drunk that he left me at a get together at one of his friends houses. I was probably 7 years old and for the longest time I thought he left knowing he left me behind. Years later I understood what all those Coors beers did to his brain and understood what alcoholism was. But thanks for the gift of insecurity and abandonment. The Dude gets an A+. He still is and will always be the same….I however won’t.
Getting this out feels uplifting and a bit of calmness is setting in. It’s a bit of relief to not hold it in. Plus it makes me realize that my sobriety is gold in my kids world. I can’t take back past mistakes but I can continue this path and create positive, healthy, great memories for me & my daughters. Cheers to one day at a time!
For years, I couldn’t watch A&E’s Intervention. I was uncomfortable relating to many of the same things I was watching. Why would I want to draw more attention to my addiction that I wasn’t yet ready to admit was a problem? I watch it now. My throat gets tight, my stomach sour and sometimes my eyes fill up with tears.
Last night, while watching an episode of two female alcoholics it dawned on me that most of the time these addicts started their battle just like me, taking their first drink at an early age. Coming from a divorced family where one parent becomes absent from their life. Then comes the blended family and family members stating facts of the addicts early years and the troubles that were faced.
One of the addicts says something to the effect that she has grown to hate alcohol, that she doesn’t even like it. I can relate. It gets to the point that it doesn’t even taste good. Probably because of the taste it leaves in my mouth the next morning, the pain I see in my husband’s and kid’s eyes and because of the toll it takes.
When I started this blog, I promised myself I would not hold back on what hurts me no matter who reads this for fear that I would upset someone I love. The sober me doesn’t want to hurt anyone. The intoxicated me doesn’t care.
Sobriety makes me feel everything. My mind is sensitive as well as my heart. I was upset last night. How could I be in such a good place and Bam! Like a switch. I’m angry, resentful and not really at peace. I vent to my husband because I trust him. He’s heard it all before. Again & again. Over & over. I cry. I cry hard. Crying sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable. Shows I’m weak. Admits I’m hurt. Makes me feel foolish. I hate that. Hate brings on resentment and there you have it, a vicious cycle.
Talking to certain people or even seeing certain people make me question myself. I understand the whole, you allow people to make you feel a particular way. When they’re friends it’s easier to do than when it’s family. My expectations on how a family should be with each person having an exact role and behavior must be where this blows up for me. Are my expectations too high? Are they insane? Wrong? I need to be comfortable with the fact that just because I’m making changes doesn’t mean everyone else needs to be on board. I need to get over it, reset boundaries and realize this is not going to change. Ever.
I struggle with a couple relationships. I dream they become different. I even wish. I’m admitting that I am powerless to make these relationships different. C’mon, how much more time can I spend trying or hoping things are the way I hope for? When people tell you to trust that everything’s going to work out I want to storm off. Hello! Trust is hard for me. So more importantly, I’m learning to focus on me being 100% present for my daughters and husband. Eventually every storm runs out of rain? Right? I want the calm and I want it really bad. I don’t want to look back 10 years from now and realize that I wasted time I had with my kids by living in a state of perpetual distraction.
I’m learning from my mistakes. Repeating them over and over would be insanity. I won’t go there.
Awesome interpretation of what we tend to say during early sobriety and what it means vs. what it sounds like it means. Thank you sober identity.com 🙂