jety75

Hi everyone

After reading many wonderful, honest and sometimes very painful posts I don't feel so alone. For years I tried to heal myself. I have had wonderful therapists but I wasn't ready to face the demons in my closet. At 33 I am ready now. I do know I can't do it alone. So here I am.

My father is an alcoholic. I am the middle daughter and the one who seems to not "get over" the past according to my sisters and mother. My mother would prefer I never talk about the past. I used to think it was because it was too painful, now I realize it's because if I talk about the way it really was she will have to admit to her role in the chaos that was my life.

I have accepted that my father made choices and he has to own that, not me. I have choosen to have minimal contact with my dad because that was the right choice for me at the time. It took me years to realize that it is not the alcohol that was the problem but the players.

Like most alcoholic families silence and shame were the main themes. My mother the "martyr" is the tie that binds. She is not a positive person. She is able to tear you down and then act surprised that she hurt you. If it really is an act. My older sister is the "good girl" She is responsible, reliable and is controlled by my mother. She seems to enjoy that role. She was my fathers favourite and always wanted my mothers love and approval. She is still waiting.

My younger sister is angry, hurt and will not accept that these feeling do not go away until they are dealt with one way or another. She doesn't believe it stems from an alcoholic home life. My mother has told her many times she just a jealous bitch.

Now me....I was the middle child but wanted to be the baby. Up until a few weeks ago I called my mom "mommy" I wanted to be special to my mom. I wanted her to love me because I was a wonderful, successful, daughter who made some mistakes but turned out ok, not because she felt guilty for the neglect and abuse I was subjected to during her evenings out. Those evenings out usually resulted in her coming home drunk, having a few more with my father and then fighting until 3 am. I would beg her to come up to bed. When she finally did my father was right behind her. We would sleep in the closet while he would sit on my dresser in his underwear with the lights on yelling and screaming. At 12 and 13 I was the protector, and no one was protecting me.

I am tired of pretending it "wasn't that bad" or hearing "it could have been worse." I recognize that I can't change the past but does that mean I am suppose to bury it to be happy? What if I don't want to anymore? What is wrong with accepting that your past influences your present and future decisions? I am not sure where I go from here. I guess this is where you all come in. I am not alone anymore.