hexaemeron

Hello, all,

Thank you for reading. I've come to the end of my rope with my parents and after ten years of holding my hand out to both of them (much longer, and for different reasons with my mom), my sense of emotional and physical self-preservation have finally kicked in and I need to cut them out of my life.

This whole sick, sad tale is epic, confused, complicated and often maddeningly ridiculous, but then, I imagine these are common feelings when dealing with addicts.

A little about myself before I actually start laying everything out: I'm a 33 year old .com professional who escaped his very backward, rural Midwest locale as a very young adult and has lived the rest of that time in San Francisco, building a life and name for myself here. Ambitious, intelligent, driven, perfectionist and not given to an overabundance of emotion are likely the most common ways that the people closest to me would describe me. I'm also a proud gay man with a loving partner of over seven years and have an Asperger's Syndrome diagnosis from well, well into adulthood (27).

So, that's a little about me. Rounding out my family is my 24 year old sister, who still lives in very backward, rural Midwest locale with mom. Mom and dad are still married, but they do not cohabitate.

One of my earliest childhood memories (if not the earliest) is my mom telling me as a child of perhaps three or four years old to hide because my dad was coming home and he was drunk. Unfortunately, he's not a happy drunk, swinging from crying to raging. So, I poured my little compact frame into a tiny cupboard inside our coffee table and I waited there until my mom opened the door and got me. Substance abuse (of many stripe) has been a part of the experience with my parents right from the very start. Most of my childhood was peppered with my dad abusing alcohol (and other stuff I found out about later, as I can best piece together) and my mom tried her best to shield me from the worst of it.

I was a very bright child and I was encouraged by my mom to always get the best grades I could get. As a child, the amount of pressure that she put on me with her always-escalating expectations of perfection from me really took a toll on me, because no matter how perfect my grades were, how many awards I won, it never, ever seemed to be enough. As an adult looking back, I understand that she was trying to prepare me to be have the skills and grades and fortitude to get out of our unfortunate little town. But even so, to actively put that much pressure on a child... I felt absolutely responsible for being nothing less than perfect, so my mom would be happy and she wouldn't have to worry about me like she worried about my dad.

Adding to this was the fact that from the age of six or so, I was my mom's only confidante in her deciding what to do about her life and marriage. She would talk to me about divorcing my father and should she do it and on and on and on. I was six years old in 1985 and in almost 2013, they're still married. But the discussion from her was always there. And I felt responsible for her well-being. I had to be stable, reliable for her. I had to make her happy because she was so happy about everything else.

Even as a child, I knew these things. And as the years went by and my dad went in and out of sobriety, my mom became more intent on focusing all her attentions upon me. And by attention, I mean, utter attempts at control.

When I was eleven years old, that winter I had come home out of the snow and I was taking my snow suit off and in super cold weather, snot (sorry) tends to crystallize in your nose due to the extreme cold. She came in to see how I was, and she strode right over to me, grabbed me by the chin, shoved my head up and screamed at me over "that garbage up your nose".

I was mortified. I had no idea what she was talking about and I pushed her off and asked her why she was being like this? She kinda shook her head absentmindedly and apologized and left the room. My mom, to this day, refuses that this event ever took place. (A pattern of behavior she continues with almost religious fervor to this day about EVERYTHING she doesn't want to hear or think about)

When I was passing through my teen years, and I became aware of my homosexuality, I was heartsick because I did not want to add to my mom's pains and sadnesses. I did not ever want to disappoint her. So, I redoubled my efforts to present the ultimate perfect facade, and all the while I was rotting on the inside from turning myself inside out to be something I just wasn't. I even went so far as to attempt to commit suicide, seven weeks into my freshman year at university (on a full scholarship, no less, because my parents had no means to send me to even a state school) because I had grown so weary of feeling the constant and unending pressures of having to be perfect for my parents that I figured if I was dead, at least they could have the memory, forever unblemished, of their perfect son and I could finally know peace.

Well, thank the universe, the attempt did not work, and I realized almost immediately what a fool I had been, and I came out at 18. My parents were more or less okay with it, as long as we never ever talked about it ever, or as long as I never mentioned it to other family, in the name of my mom insisting she was "protecting my privacy". Even then I knew that was bull, but, I have to be perfect for mom, so I went along with it.

As the years went by into my early 20s, I went through a LOT of stuff just on my own. I was finding my way in the world, and had a few substance issues of my own that I was able to deal with myself (and have never returned).

Now, through all of this, I knew my dad was quite a physically broken and unhealthy guy. He was a steelworker and worked like a maniac to provide for our family. That is something I can never say bad about my father. The man is a worker and never, ever left us in the lurch financially. By the time he was 40, he had gone through two back surgeries, three shoulder surgeries and a knee surgery. He had a cabinet in the kitchen set up for just his medications. Pain pills, sleeping pills, and later blood pressure and diabetes meds among others.

What I didn't realize until later is that my dad had been legally prescribed oxycontin by his doctor as early as 1996 or so. He just took his pain pills. That's all I ever knew about that until later.

Now, in 2003, as I was now living in California and trying just to survive after the .com bust, my mom had a very serious health scare. I to this day do not know specifics (Mom doesn't like specifics because then you can pin her down on things in conversation later), but from what I can piece together is that there was some adverse interaction between her hormone replacement therapy and the nicotine in her ridiculous amount of cigarettes a day. It cut off the blood supply to a part of her colon and it died, leaving waste to spill into her body cavity. She nearly died. I didn't have the money to fly there to be with her, (and they didn't have the money to fly me out), so for a few days, I didn't know if my mom was going to make it. So, I did what I thought would be the most helpful and I wrote her eulogy, as I knew it would fall to me to write and deliver it since I was the prodigy. Old reliable in a crisis. But she made it and I was thrilled I could put the eulogy away and I went back to building my own life up. Little did I know this would be the beginning of the end of our relationship.

My first opportunity to make it back home was the next Christmas in 2004. And I was in a bad state. My partner of three years and I had just broken up and even though I initiated that and knew it was best, it still hurt. I don't usually ever ask for help or vocalize when I need it because... I never had it before. I had to do everything myself. But with this, I told my parents that I just wanted to come home and spend time with them (I had 11 days of vacation saved up that I used for the holiday and bought my airline tickets).

Well, when I got home, I could tell immediately that something was horribly wrong. Both of them were rail thin. Confused. Jittery. I'd have had to be blind not to see it. So I went to my dad and I basically just laid it out with "What are you two doing?" No preamble, no nothing. I was an adult now and I would set the tone for having conversations of import with my family as an adult. And that's exactly what I got in return. Be careful what you wish for.

My dad and I went for a drive after I confronted him. He told me that both he and my mom had been snorting oxy for well over a year now, and that I wasn't allowed to let on to my mom that I knew. Just like that. Like we were talking about a grocery list.

Old reliable again. I had been the keeper of my family's deep darks since I was six years old. I'd just add this one to the list. My dad said he had a plan to get my mom into rehab (but not himself) and that he would take care of it.

I was so pissed off. This recurring theme of "I have to be perfect for them, but they can act however the hell they want" was always a sore spot for me and that button got mashed right here. Really, one of the only times in my life that I went to my family for some kind of emotional comfort and sorry, son, we're junkies! But don't worry. We got this under control.

Well, as we close in on Christmas of 2012, this was the beginning of the end for any sort of remotely normal life for me dealing with them. I kept my dad's secret for almost a year until my mom asked me while I wasn't coming home for Christmas 2005 and I hurled at her that I didn't want to approve of their behavior by pretending that everything was okay one moment longer.

...but I still had to be the good son. Old reliable. So, I did maintain phone contact. Always initiated by me. Because they didn't have the money to have long distance. Because they were spending on their money on oxy. Their house paid off, they got a home equity loan and maxxed their credit cards and ended up probably 100k in debt. (Again, specifics are dangerous to my mom so I never get them)

By this point, my mom and dad were at each other's throats and both of them wanted me on their side because I was everyone's ace in the hole, supposedly. I didn't return home again until Thanksgiving 2011, and that's only because by then it had been eight years since I had seen them, things had gotten so much worse, and I was able to only spend two days there as I had to fly to Europe for work the Saturday after Thanksgiving.

Between Christmas 2004 and Thanksgiving 2011, my mom had 4 restraining orders placed on my dad. He went to jail at least 3-4 times, had multiple DUIs. My mom was committed by her family at home for close to a month as a last ditch effort to straighten her out. All the while, my sister, a teenager at the time, is still living with them and is front and center for this freak show. I tried to get her to live with me a few times, but I was already a one-income household with my current partner at the time and I really was the only adult around me who hadn't fallen apart. I was utterly alone.

But I did what I always do, which is remember that I'm the one who doesn't crack. I'm the one who doesn't falter. I'm the perfect one. So, I just pulled tighter inside of myself and my career mostly thrived and I had more than doubled my annual salary in about five years. But it was so isolating. At the same time, I would be talking to my dad very candidly about getting help and always being there for him to help him get on his feet. Often until 4am, where I'd have to just get ready for work and pretend to be a functional adult at work. I could never have those conversations with my mom because she either never admitted it happened, or that it was all my dad's fault. My favorite was talking about her time in the mental hospital and saying that the doctors always told her they didn't understand why she was even here, because how strong and smart you are! It's so difficult to call a parent out, because it just feels so disrespectful. It took me a long time to be able to do it, but by this point, I just couldn't take her lies anymore. But she continued to deny, deny, deny. Addict 101, right?

So, things pretty much stayed this way, using/not using/DUIs/restraining orders and periods of lucidity. Around this point, my mom's behavior began to change. She began getting even more paranoid than she had always been (and she was ALWAYS paranoid about people knowing her business, overhearing conversations, etc), and what she was saying on the phone with me didn't make sense. She told me that "they" were watching her through the television. She had cameras in the house and "they" had tapped her phone. Eventually, she told me that a 250 million year old fossil (a trilobite, actually) was living in her lamp. Yeah.

So, now I'm confronted with the very likely situation of my mom either hitting ________ and hallucinating, or she was falling into the grip of serious psychotic mental illness. Now, they have no money, assets. They have absolutely nothing to fall back on because of their endless shenanigans. Both of their physical health situations is utterly poor. My dad has hepatitis, emphysema, diabetes, 100 and 85 percent clogged carotid arteries, chain smoking and daily drinking. My mom is at this point 6'1" and around 90#, never eating, never drinking water. Just sitting in her home smoking 3 packs and drinking two pots of coffee a day. Killing themselves. Not just being addicts now. Now they are killing themselves. So, I try to start taking a more active role in getting them help (if that's even possible). I guess I mean to say I was more insistent. More desperate. Begging, bargaining, pleading, whatever it took.

My aunt and I eventually came to the mutual conclusion that my mom is now in the grips of paranoid schizophrenia and very much believes that there are people always coming for her. But she's still a very smart lady. We tried to have her pink slipped by the local police, but she just pretended like she didn't know why anyone was there and wouldn't you rather just have some coffee and cake?

Well, she seems so nice and friendly. She can't possibly be a danger to herself right? I was so mad I could spit. This podunk hole in the ground stuck in the 1950s would just turn their gaze away, because if we just ignore it, it's not there. Mantra for my mom if ever there was one.

While my aunt, my sister and I were regrouping for our next move, about two months ago, I get a call from my sister while I was at work. I had just started a new job and I was absolutely buried in hitting the ground running and overflowing with work. Hardest job I've taken to date. So, she tells me that my mother is in jail about 40 miles away from where she lives, which happens to be a very major metropolitan area. None of us know what happened yet, but my sister notices that all of her jewelry is gone. Almost 4,000 dollars worth in total. Just gone. Hmm... junkies and money...

So, eventually, we find out that my mom did a bunch of oxycontin, oxycodone, xanax (which is a legitimate script of my sister's for her panic attacks - can't imagine why she'd have those) and a bunch of alcohol we find out later was whiskey and she brings all the rest of those pills with her in her purse, gets into her car and goes on a 40+ mile high-speed chase on her way to the metro airport. When the metro police become involved, my mom decides to evade capture (people coming for her, people coming for her) by going to the wrong side of a 10-lane parkway at 85 miles per hour for some unknown distance. She runs a police barricade and eventually the metro police crash into her to stop her and she has to be tazed twice to be subdued enough to be arrested.

Now, with everything I've said about my mother so far, she's never had even so much as a parking ticket in her entire life. And now, she as twelve counts and multiple felonies against her. Hearing this in California, I know I have to take charge here because my dad will just fall apart and use. Which he did. Multiple times, which is why he's now in jail for a good long while for a DUI.

So, I get the information from my sister to contact the arresting officers for more information about what actually happened, and to my not-terribly-surprised-but-completely-irritated state, I find out my mother told the arresting officers that she had no children, so he could not speak to me "to protect her privacy".

I am pleading with the man to let me fax over my birth certificate, or my passport. Whatever is necessary because I have to TAKE CHARGE of this. No dice. He did give me some information he shouldn't have, but he didn't tell me anything truly meaningful. He did tell me that my mom looked about two days away from dead and that she looked like a long-term meth head.

Now, I've asked my dad many times about what they do and he swears up and down that they've never touched that, but who actually knows? It wouldn't surprise me at this point. Not much would.

So, my mom is released on her own recognizance and goes home. And says nothing to anyone about what happened. When I finally call her to tell her that I love her and I'm not judging her, that I just want to know what happened so I can help her prepare her case, she says it's all made up and that she would never do something so criminal!

Like I'm five years old or something. So, I finally blow my stack and tell her to cut this _____ and tell me the truth, because I can't help you if you don't.

And she hangs up on me. She is taking to hanging up on everyone who tries to inquire about her or offer assistance because she's ignoring the whole thing. Pretending that it never happened. Using and sitting in her home, smoking and drinking and not eating... and using some more. She won't even get herself a public defender, because that would mean admitting that it actually happened. And we can't have that. If I don't think about it, it's not there. And if I allow that to continue, she will show up to court with no lawyer and she will be put in prison for a year or more and in her mental and physical state, I don't know that she will ever walk out again.

So, after all this time, all the hours on the phone with my hand out just asking her what she needs, what will it take... whatever it is, I will make it happen, but you just have to tell me. After almost ten years with my hand out, with nothing getting better and everything getting worse and both of my parents utterly committed to ending their lives as slowly and painfully as they possibly can, I've hit my limit. I am taking a flight home without telling my mother so that I can show up and I'm going to let her know in no uncertain terms that if she does not work with me right then and there to get herself a lawyer and input into a 30-day rehabilitation program, that I am going to walk out the door, fly all the way across the country and never see or speak to her again. And I mean it. I really do mean it. Same for my dad, really, but who actually knows if he'll be amongst the non-incarcerated when I'm home to speak to him. I'll have to tell him separately, I'm sure.

I cannot believe it has come to this. I cannot believe that THIS is what is going to be how my parents spend whatever months or years left to them. I think what hurts the most is that during all of this, as selfish as this sounds, they never really cared about getting to know me as an adult. They have never visited me, even when I offered to pay (I understand now they couldn't bring their pills with them, so it wouldn't be a vacation so much as it would be hell). They know nothing of my life, or what things make me happy in this life. They've never met my partner of seven years, and have spoken to him maybe two times for less than three minutes in all that time. When I found out about my Asperger's diagnosis, they didn't read any books. Ask any questions. It was like I told them I went to the gas station. I don't feel like a part of the family so much as a prized pet. Someone who is just there to give love and approval, but not to have anything to actually say. But I know they love me, and maybe in some messed up way this is their own way of trying to protect me from them, but all of that time wasted. Gone.

I need to do this for myself. I've been living in a constant state of fear and stress and panic about them since Christmas of 2004. A day does not go by where I am not worried about them, or am emotionally wrecked because of what's happening. And I finally, finally understand that the change I so desperately hoped for is only going to come when I change. So I'm going to be the change I want to see and I'm going to move on and focus on making my own life full and happy. I hope to get my sister to finally move out here at some point so I can show her what the real rest of the world looks like and all of the opportunity here for a beautiful life.

I feel the hole, where my memories of them should be. It hurts. It hurts feeling like you're cut adrift because you're the functional one. But I'm not going to rationalize or apologize for their behaviors, or for my own in waiting for a train that's never going to come. I do know that I'm going to give my parents written copies of the eulogies I've had written for them both (Old Reliable, to a fault) and promise I will always love them. It's my absolute last hand to play. I hope it makes a difference, even though I know in my heart it won't.

I'm sorry this was so long. I've never actually written about this and only a few people close to me know anything about this (as I tend to always rely on myself for just about everything), so thank you for reading. Just being able to get this out lifts a weight from my head and my heart.

Here's to finding peace in 2013 for us all.

ACOA12

(((hexaemeron)))

I am so sorry for what you are going through. I just joined here very recently and have found it to be helpful. I hope that you stay and find some support here.

I have a similar situation with my dad but not with drugs but alcohol. I understand your feeling alone and having that feeling of stress and panic. I know the feeling of loss because your parent(s) don't have your back because they can't even take care of themselves let alone worry about how you're doing and you're worried about protecting them not the other way around. It is so freaking maddening that they act like everything is ok and that what goes on is normal behavior!!

I go to Alanon for Adult Children once in awhile and it's so helpful to hear from others
who have addicted parent(s) and grew up in dysfunction. I am not working the steps or anything like that (I know that I should though) but it is a good reminder that we truly aren't alone in how our lives were/are.

God Bless.

Kialua

Welcome. I'm so sorry this has happened in your life, like mine. My Dad was the alcoholic and my Mom the enabler. I would invite you to read my blog found on our site here
http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...treatment.html

My Mom did the confidante thing to my brother as well. NOT the right thing to do a kid at all. He finally got fed up with the whole thing and with getting beat and started body building and got them to leave him alone. He ended up physically separating from them, long story involving the draft during the '60's.

My sister was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. I lived with her a lot to escape my Dad, yeah great plan. Ha. I'm very familiar with "them" watching. The link to my blog above speaks to that and the long journey to commitment and treatment.

I understand the need to separate and the need to take care. I did both. But I was emotionally detached, I think that is what you need to start with. Keep posting and please read through the site, I think there is a lot of hope and help here for you.

hexaemeron

I want to thank you both for responding. This is such a strange time, especially with the holidays to be in this mode of thinking, but it's definitely the way to go.

frances2011

Glad you're here. Welcome. I'm sorry for all the sh*t that happened to you.

THIS: "And I finally, finally understand that the change I so desperately hoped for is only going to come when I change. So I'm going to be the change I want to see and I'm going to move on and focus on making my own life full and happy."

THIS is a remarkable statement of life, purpose, and possibility, in my opinion.

As a child of an alcoholic mom and dysfunctional a-go-go, I relate. I relate to being Perfect and secret-keeping. I relate to the story of breaking free.

I support your heart's desire to be happy. I am creating my life of being surrounded by love and fun and challenges. And people who love you just because you are you.

My experience is that when I finally let go, it was as easy as dropping my end of a rope. I. Just. Dropped. My. End. I didn't need to say or do anything. I didn't need to tell anyone about my "plan." I just let go. I have been No Contact with an older sibling for 2.5 years. I have re-examined my motives about simply ceasing. Every time I re-assess, I have the same sense of peacefulness that I am making the choices that are best for me. The only time my parents challenged me on it, I told them I loved them and that I was not going to discuss it with them.

A really amazing idea here for us ACOAs, imo, is about Boundaries. Boundaries are not about the other person. Boundaries are about me. What am I willing to do or say or not do or not say? I don't have to be concerned with the other person's actions. They will do what they will do. Haven't they always?

No more dance-stepping. No more trying to figure out where the land-mine will be this time. It always got me where I never thought it could be.

My experience is that this little corner of SR is safe. People here get that the insanity we lived through is real, and really happened. You don't have to worry about "convincing" people who think "it couldn't have been that bad." We get it.

Wishing you peace. Glad you are here.

EveningRose

Regarding the confidante thing, yes, here, too. My mother told me things that to this day I wish she would have talked to an adult friend. She was confiding, using me as a counselor, but also determined to turn me against my father. All of it was bad. You don't say some things to a kid.


My older sibling struggles with this, I believe, trying to be perfect. I could give you a long, long list of her accomplishments, but it's never good enough for her, and I believe this striving for perfection is what brought on the stress that led to her rages--yet when I tried to say so gently, not blaming her at all, trying to say, don't put yourself under so much pressure--that, too, in her mind was a criticism of her. No, it's a criticism of our parents. I struggle with it myself.

Secret-keeping: As I've traveled this journey the last few years, I've tried to unravel the bizarre behavior that makes no sense and the fragmented memories, and I suspect (may never know if I'm totally off track) that part of my mother's apparent hatred of me is that I told. I have a very clear memory of way out of line behavior from my dad, and I bet I told my mother and she branded me a liar rather than face the truth and risk becoming a single mother in the early 70s.

So much gold in your post, Frances. This has been my experience, too. "You're burning your bridges," is one of my family's phrases, and I finally understood that no, I am not burning bridges at all. Rather, I have spent a lifetime racing with buckets of water to put out the fires they start. This time, they doused the bridge with gasoline and tossed on two dozen lit matches, and I didn't run for water.

I have spent a good deal of energy re-examining my actions, motives, alternatives, and every single time, I come back to the frustrating but freeing conclusion there was simply nothing else I could have done to have any more peace than I do now. I could have continued smiling and turning the other cheek while they tore me down and I died a little more inside each time with the humiliation, I could have finally gotten down in the mud and fought them (and I would have lost, given family dynamics), or I could have walked away. I chose Door #3.

This is so true. I can't tell you how often I hear myself talk and think this is so crazy, so and so must think I'm leaving out something awful that I did. But I'm not. Their behavior is simply irrational, except if you look at it through the lens of alcoholic family dynamics.

Hexaemeron, I do not mean this post to be a distraction from anything you posted, but more of telling you yes, this is happening to them, to me, to you, to all of us...it's standard, typical, and you're not crazy, and there's only so much you can do. Sometimes they leave us no choice but to finally walk away.

tromboneliness

Yes, that's exactly how I used to describe how I handled my Dad, in his last year or so when he was completely impossible. He'd call, I'd answer, I'd get the life sucked out of me... so next time, I wouldn't answer. Over time, it got to where I'd answer, oh, every third call or so. He'd try to pull me in, I'd let go of the rope.

All of these "shoulds" that are so prevalent around the holidays are completely artificial. We "should" get together with all these toxic people -- after all, they're family, blood is thicker than water (whatever the eff that one's supposed to mean), if you haven't got family, you haven't got anything, blah-blah-blah-humma-humma-dronnnnnnnne....

Well, no, actually. We don't "should" gotta do any of that. People who meddle, control, insult, and destroy us... have no right to see us, just because we share some of the same ancestors!

When I go to Al-Anon, I hear a lot of this, "My Family of Origin are horrible, but I couldn't bear not to see my nieces and nephews at Christmas," and that sort of thing. Well, like everything else, that's a choice. It's not a "have to" or a "should" -- the nieces and nephews may be adorable, but don't come crying to me because their parents are you-know-whats. Send the kids something nice, but you are not required to put up with the same stuff you grew up with!

T

Mracoa

Hang in there hexaemeron. You don't owe them anything and you can't save them.

Spend some time focusing on you. If they manage to survive, eventually they will contact you. If they are sane, sober and rational feel free to carry on. If they try to pull you back into thier crazy, just say no! (Nancy Regan would be proud).

EveningRose

I have two nephews and a niece I will probably never know as a result of their parents' behavior. Yes, I made the choice to stay away from family holidays, but I have always regarded it as their choice to drive away people who would have loved their children dearly, and I'm sorry the kids miss out, but honestly, what would I have in the end? Three nieces/nephews who have been raised by their parents' example and words to think such and such of me. I feel this is exactly why there is trouble between me and the younger siblings--because my mother raised them from day one to think certain things about me and how they could treat me, and those attitudes have not been unlearned now that they're adults. So, unfortunately, I take the possibly cyncical attitude that this sibling will raise the children the same exact way. So I'm not missing out on a great future relationship, anyway.

I hope that someday, those children will grow up and ask questions and think for themselves, and my door will be open. But I have no intention of trying to build a relationships at the expense of continuing to be the family scapegoat, which is what would happen if I kept going to family functions.

hexaemeron

Thank you everyone for responding. I'm actually going to my first Adult Children meeting today. I fly home in the second week of January and I definitely think that speaking to a group, or just listening to fellow survivors might help.

I've also been trying to write a novel based on my experiences. I want to take every ounce of the energy I have spent in trying to help/save them and I hope to show what this ordeal has been like from my unique perspective.

Again, thank you all and happy holidays to you.

Kialua

What a great idea. I have tried to write it all down before but just got lost in the pain. However since coming to this forum I found writing my experiences and sharing them with likeminded souls has released a lot of pain. I ended up putting my thoughts in the blog feature here and started to collect them. You have the option to have comments off while the posts are still read, so it doesn't become a distraction, just a place to think out loud.

Have a great Christmas, we are here for you.

Jur123

Hi hexaemeron,

I can relate to many things that you said. I lived for years worrying about my mom and her self distructive behaviuor. My youngest sister has Aspergers which was diagnosed when she was 26 years of age and my mother had never bothered to read or to know more about it. The same goes with my other sister who has panic attacks and anxiety - my mom wasn't interested in that. I didn't even have an illusion that she'd ask about me - what makes me happy, sad or angry as I saw that she did not care about my sisters who had worse then me (my mom passed away 2 years ago)
I hope you find peace of mind soon.

LadyinBC

So sorry you have to deal with this. As an alcoholic parent I am thankful that I am sober today. As alcoholics we can be selfish and are selfish and you need to do what you have to do to protect yourself.

Thank you for sharing and I will keep you and your family in my thoughts and prayers.

TonyCC

Hex,

My mother and father both had issues (dad was the drinker though) and mom had mental issues from growing up as a child in Philippines (Japanese terrorized the people living there....Americans,locals,etc).

My dad was so _________ up on alcohol that he used to come home drunk and pull his gun out and shoot holes in the walls and ceiling (to terrorize my mother and me, his 12yr old boy). Can you Imagine?

You will find these stories are common amongst us ACOA's. Its good to know that you are not alone.

This life is tough man. I'm kinda in a similar situation with my Mother. She's old now and getting more difficult to deal with. Won't take her Meds.

Sometimes i feel like just getting in a car...and driving AWAY.

You did the right thing Hex and moved. I wish i would have had the COURAGE to do what you did. You built a better life than they could have ever done. Don't waste it. You are number 1 man. Don't do what i did. Don't sacrifice your life for them....You will end up hating yourself. God put you on this planet to be happy. Don't suffer anymore with this.

I wish you the best in your efforts...but honestly, i think MrTheka is right on this one.

SAVE YOURSELF Hex...if your mother and father were in their right minds and they loved you...they would say SAVE YOURSELF.

*The problem we have as ACOA's is that we are delusional. We have this dream in our minds that one day our family will be normal...but this will never happen. "Accept the things we cannot change and the courage to change the things we can"

You take care...and thanks for sharing!

~TC

hexaemeron

So, a curious thing happened on Christmas morning. My dad is in jail until the middle of March at a minimum, so I couldn't wish him a Merry Christmas. But I did call my mom to wish her one, if only out of duty at this point.

What actually happened was unprecedented in our relationship. I am not sure if she got scared enough of what's coming, or she's tired of holding onto all the secrets, but she opened up to me and we talked candidly about the events surrounding her incarceration. It wasn't a total come clean, because it's too much for one conversation, but just the fact that she told me that it happened and she doesn't know why she did it (and I actually believe that, if it really is paranoid schizophrenia she has) blew my mind.

I did let her know that I was totally appreciative of her letting me in finally, but that she has to be 1000% transparent with me moving forward and that I need to be in the loop with her and her lawyer. She agreed and thanked me and apologized for everything she and my father had put me and my sister through.

I have no idea if this is actually a turning point, and my instincts tell me not to trust this yet, but it was nice nonetheless. I'm still going home in secret and I'm going to make sure she's making good on her word. I'm also going to see my dad in jail, to let him know just exactly how disappointed I am that he would make an already ridiculously difficult situation exponentially worse. Since he's in jail longer than 30 days, all of his income and insurance goes away. Which means all my mom's income and insurance goes away too.

I guess we'll see what happens. Updates as I get them. Thanks again everyone for reading. Your support means a lot to me.

tromboneliness

Well, the thing is -- and this was a hard one to get for me when my wife went to treatment -- checking up on the alcoholic to make sure they're as good as their word... doesn't help. If they really are staying sober, well, great -- but our checking up on them isn't why they're doing it. If they're not, they're not, but again, what we do isn't going to affect it. If they relapse, it's going to be apparent soon enough.

If we don't check up on them, and just let go, we're not giving up control -- we're just giving up the illusion of control. (I apologize for repeating myself -- this is kind of my standard spiel.) That's a good thing. Once we give up the illusion that we can control the alcoholic's behavior, that lifts a huge weight off us, because we no longer have to worry about it. If they stay clean, they stay clean; if they relapse, they relapse -- but it's not on us either way.

There's an Al-Anon pamphlet called "So You Love An Alcoholic," that I found helpful when I first got into the program and my qualifier was still knocking down a fifth of vodka a day. It had a section called "Some Important Don'ts." Things like: Don't look for hidden bottles, don't argue with them when they're drunk, don't count how much they drink, don't treat them like a child, and I forget the others. But those were all the things I was doing. And how much did they help? Not at all. When I started... not fighting with her when she was drunk, it didn't take long before things calmed down a lot, around the household.

Basically, what it amounts to is that we don't tell the alcoholic what to do -- we just set boundaries and stick to them. They can be... whatever works for you -- not talking to them on the phone when they're drunk, not giving them money, not picking them up off the floor and putting them to bed when they're passed out, whatever it is. The important thing is that we can control our own behavior -- so that's what we do. It does end up having some influence on the alcoholic -- but not because we gave orders and they finally obeyed them. Instead, it's because we changed our behavior, stopped putting up with their cr*p, and... brought about a situation in which they decided, of their own volition, to make a change.....

T

Kialua

Wow what interesting development. I understand your hesitancy. I would watch and see what happens. Though she has shared inappropriate things with you before making you her confidant. This may well be another inappropriate communication disguised in truth to make you be her aide again. If she really is paranoid schizophrenia she won't be able to have transparency, ie tell the truth or treat you with consistency. My sister has been diagnosed with that and I lived with her a lot.

You got an apology of sorts from her, I guess that is good. Though my Dad always apologized after he drunkenly beat me, with the typical I love you I will never do it again but always did. So some apologies are not worth it.

Yes I agree with tromboneliness, make sure you have your boundaries in place for your sanity.

Since your Dad is in lockup will they put him in treatment at all? That's what happened to my Dad.

frances2011

+1000 for trombonliness and dolly's shares.

In my experience, when I read your post, I feel my own "Rescuer Superhero Power Energy" coming up. I am sharing my own experience. My experience is that learning to radically care for my body is a full-time job for all my Superhero Powers. My experience is that I can't change, control, or fix anybody else.

I'm sorry for all the crap that's going on in your family. I sympathize having a family member who got jailed.

Trombon--I'm thinking I might have gotten that rope analogy from you? *scratches head* Thanks if so or to whomever I got it from on SR.

I love your novel idea! My experience is that being Truthful is like being a light. I'm not shining to change anyone's opinion, I'm just being. However, the way the universe works is that sometimes one person or many might find my Light useful to them. My light is not diminished by being shared by others.

Please keep sharing as you feel you want to. We're here for you.

elleesjay

Good luck, Hex.

This addiction thing is a LONG road, as you already know, and so is our recovery process as family members. As someone who finally found relief from my mother's addiction (and the answers to WHY i felt so crazy all of the time) through CoDependency and Al-Anon meetings, not to mention an in depth week long CoDa program (The book CoDependent No More by Melodie Beattie is a fantastic read by the way) where my mother was being treated (worth its weight in gold) it has taken me a while to finally get to the point where I am able to move forward with the "tough love" or "love first" card.
A botched Christmas last month where I discovered just HOW much Mom had relapsed from her pain pill abuse to now Alcoholism finally made me realize that I was the one who had to get out. Being 8+ months pregnant, I knew that I had a situation where it may possibly have more effect to cut her off and involvement with her future Grandchild to play the card at this time.
So, it has been just over a week- she's in complete denial, and the voicemails are the worst to listen to her pleading with me, but I am sticking to the plan. No relationship with me until she is in a treatment center. No relationship with her Grandchild either. I don't want her present for the arrival of her Grandchild which would only further stress me out having her present.
This is a VERY hard process to handle, but at the same time I know that my mother, the one who raised me before becoming the addict, is not here right now. This person is very ill that is in her body and I just have to keep reminding myself of that when it is tempting to cave and talk to her on the phone. I have had limited emails with her but no phone conversations- i refuse to speak to her (luckily i live 10 hours away so don't have to worry about drop-ins) over the phone because i know that she will likely forget all that I have said b/c she is high OR will try to talk me out of this/manipulate me. As we all know, they are MASTER Manipulators.
I have heard all of the promises. I have heard all of the pleading. The bottom line is they are typically just telling us anything they think we want to hear to get us to be back in their lives for their own selfish reasons.

Good luck to you with it all- as they say, this often hurts us more than it hurts them...(which I interpret to be because they are typically high all day and in la-la land so they don't even feel real hurt and pain like we are going through).

elle

AtATotalLoss

Wow. Just.... wow. So very sorry for your troubles My mom is the addict. And I am the "perfect secret keeper". A lot of what you said resonated so very deeply with me. Good luck and bottom line: you deserve to live a good happy life and you deserve to be loved and cherished for who you are with all your goodness and badness. I am glad you having a loving partner in your life to make you feel loved and worthy.
I am new to all of this too, but everything I have read so far is almost... not believable. To know there are so many of us secret keepers out there, suffering in silence. To know that so very many of us have had to shoulder responsibilities that were never ours and were so far beyond our capabilities to deal with. To be counselors for our parents. To know that so many of us feel the same sense of wrongness and dysfunction in our lives. It is so comforting (sad too, but...) to feel not alone!
Good luck my dear. And you are on the right track. Take care of you and your life and finally put down the baggage they burdened you with. It isn't yours and you don't have to carry it. Ever again.