About me.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: Newark, Ohio
Posts: 24
About me.
I reckon I was supposed to do this before I posted, but I have just now found the time to sit down and do this. I am new to the boards here. I will try to cut my life journey down for you.
I was born in the sixties. My mother was barely sixteen. It was the typical story of my mother being from the wrong side of the tracks in a relationship with a boy from the right side of them. His parents did not approve and after his parents kept trying to fix him up with the "right" girl, my mother left the state and met my stepfather. They were married when I was nine months old.
As far back as I can remember, my stepfather was an alcoholic. I don't recall exactly when he began beating my mother, I can only say that I always knew what to do when he began to beat her. I knew to protect my brother and sister from entering the room or drawing too much attention to themselves. And it seems that I always knew that we didn't tell people the truth about any of it as well. My mother used those lame, tired excuses of walking into a door or falling down the steps, etc...
As I grew older, my mother got tired of fighting his drinking so she joined him. This was a difficult period to say the least for my family. My stepfather had an affair with my mother's best friend and I can remember being homeless, going hungry, and living in our car afterwards.
Years of this goes by. When I am 12, my stepfather begins to sexually molest me. I believe because the pattern had been that we didn't discuss what happened in our home with anyone that I felt I couldn't tell anyone what was happening. It wasn't until I turned 16, that I even found someone that I felt I could tell.
He was a special person to me. He was much older, seemed so wise, and cared about me. It wasn't a boyfriend nor a intimate relationship. He was like a father to me. His advice was to tell my mother. Realistically as an adult, I know now that he knew she was the only one who could really help me. To get involved without her help wouldn't have helped me much.
It didn't really turn out that well. I dare to say out loud that she treated me like the other woman and went into deep denial about it. I kept a suitcase hidden under my bed for a quick get-a-way. I hated to think that if the family broke up, it would be because of me.
Nearly a year later, I ran away from home. When that day began, I had no idea that would be how it would end. I was merely trying to help my mother out and in the end, I found out some disturbing truths and decided I couldn't go back. I was angrier with her than my stepfather for my whole life. I was the child and no matter what she should have protected me. It was because of her that I didn't know my biological father and had no one but her.
I was placed in a foster home and went to counseling for a couple of years. When I graduated high school, I resumed counseling myself with tools that my counselor gave me and some self help books that I checked out at the library. I won't say that I am totally healed, (is there such a thing?) but I felt I have improved my life a great deal.
I had begun to drink quite a bit and experiment with drugs while in high school. It came to a point that I questioned what I was doing. Did I want to be like my parents? Did I want their life? The answer was a big fat no. I decided then and there that the path I would choose would not be the path I had learned. I would do better by myself as I deserved better and wanted better.
I gave up my high school sweetheart to be with a boy that everyone thought was my perfect match. I loved the boy, but wasn't in love with him. Of course, I wouldn't admit that to myself until years later. The weirdest thing is that I didn't really grow out of all of the learned behaviors. I married this boy and allowed him to treat me less than him because of my background. I was never truly happy and didn't know why. According to everyone else, I had it all. Or did I?
When I was six months pregnant with my firstborn son, my mother passed away. She was 43yrs old. She had quit drinking about five years earlier and was diagnosed with a hereditary kidney disease. She died from cardiac arrest. It was the most devastating thing of my life. She had become my mother in those five years and a best friend of sorts.
The one thought that kept repeating through my mind for the next two years was how much like my mother I really was. I remembered her as a sad woman who's only joy was her children. Did I want my children to remember me that way?
When my son was a yr and a half old, I asked for a divorce. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but I determined that I had to set boundaries of what did and did not make me happy. I had to do this not only for myself, but for my son as well.
I can say that today, I am a happy person. My life is what I wanted to make it. I have learned it is okay to learn something new every single day and that each day is a blessing and a miracle in itself. I eventually got back with my high school sweetheart. We have been married nearly nine years and have a son together. He has a similar background to mine, but also found that he wanted more from his life as well. I can say that we neither of us are big on drinking or the violence that occurred in our childhoods. We have the same goals and the same ideas about how we want our children raised. He is the love of my life. And he takes great care of my firstborn when his father slacks which is pretty often.
Neither of us could say that we lived in the same place for most of our childhood. My children have had the same home for a little more than nine years. My husband has held the same job for nearly nine years. (His father changes jobs yearly) We feel we continue to progress forward.
Through the years, we have helped family members out by allowing them to stay with us when they were down. I can say that most of them have gone on to lead better lives. I don't want to say that it was because of us, because they did their own work. We just loved and supported them through it, without allowing them to break our boundaries and rules.
Which brings me to why I am here today. I allowed my Aunt, who is 53yrs old, to move in with us in February of this year. I have had all I can take of her disrespecting our home, our family, and our boundaries. I told her to move on. She is clearly an alcoholic in denial. She seems to not realize that we can see that she lies, steals, and sneaks to hide the truth of who and what she has become. I had to face the fact that I have not changed some of my learned behaviors from childhood. I don't know if I can overcome these behaviors or not, but I do know that it is my job to teach my children that the things she is displaying are not acceptable. If I allow her to stay and continue in this manner, which I am certain she will whether I approve or not, I am sending them the wrong message.
I cannot do this. I will not do this. I found this site before I decided to tell her to take her problems and move out. She has refused any and all help that I have made available to her. (I got her into counseling, she lies to her counselors. I tried to get her into to AA, she uses an old excuse to not go, etc..etc..etc..) If she doesn't want the help, I cannot make her get it. But I can control how she affects my family.
It weighs heavily on my heart. But I know it is the right thing to do. When my children began hiding her beer and asking her to not drink every day or not to buy it when she goes to the store, there is a problem. Whether she wants to admit it or not.
Well, bless your heart, if you read this whole thing.
I was born in the sixties. My mother was barely sixteen. It was the typical story of my mother being from the wrong side of the tracks in a relationship with a boy from the right side of them. His parents did not approve and after his parents kept trying to fix him up with the "right" girl, my mother left the state and met my stepfather. They were married when I was nine months old.
As far back as I can remember, my stepfather was an alcoholic. I don't recall exactly when he began beating my mother, I can only say that I always knew what to do when he began to beat her. I knew to protect my brother and sister from entering the room or drawing too much attention to themselves. And it seems that I always knew that we didn't tell people the truth about any of it as well. My mother used those lame, tired excuses of walking into a door or falling down the steps, etc...
As I grew older, my mother got tired of fighting his drinking so she joined him. This was a difficult period to say the least for my family. My stepfather had an affair with my mother's best friend and I can remember being homeless, going hungry, and living in our car afterwards.
Years of this goes by. When I am 12, my stepfather begins to sexually molest me. I believe because the pattern had been that we didn't discuss what happened in our home with anyone that I felt I couldn't tell anyone what was happening. It wasn't until I turned 16, that I even found someone that I felt I could tell.
He was a special person to me. He was much older, seemed so wise, and cared about me. It wasn't a boyfriend nor a intimate relationship. He was like a father to me. His advice was to tell my mother. Realistically as an adult, I know now that he knew she was the only one who could really help me. To get involved without her help wouldn't have helped me much.
It didn't really turn out that well. I dare to say out loud that she treated me like the other woman and went into deep denial about it. I kept a suitcase hidden under my bed for a quick get-a-way. I hated to think that if the family broke up, it would be because of me.
Nearly a year later, I ran away from home. When that day began, I had no idea that would be how it would end. I was merely trying to help my mother out and in the end, I found out some disturbing truths and decided I couldn't go back. I was angrier with her than my stepfather for my whole life. I was the child and no matter what she should have protected me. It was because of her that I didn't know my biological father and had no one but her.
I was placed in a foster home and went to counseling for a couple of years. When I graduated high school, I resumed counseling myself with tools that my counselor gave me and some self help books that I checked out at the library. I won't say that I am totally healed, (is there such a thing?) but I felt I have improved my life a great deal.
I had begun to drink quite a bit and experiment with drugs while in high school. It came to a point that I questioned what I was doing. Did I want to be like my parents? Did I want their life? The answer was a big fat no. I decided then and there that the path I would choose would not be the path I had learned. I would do better by myself as I deserved better and wanted better.
I gave up my high school sweetheart to be with a boy that everyone thought was my perfect match. I loved the boy, but wasn't in love with him. Of course, I wouldn't admit that to myself until years later. The weirdest thing is that I didn't really grow out of all of the learned behaviors. I married this boy and allowed him to treat me less than him because of my background. I was never truly happy and didn't know why. According to everyone else, I had it all. Or did I?
When I was six months pregnant with my firstborn son, my mother passed away. She was 43yrs old. She had quit drinking about five years earlier and was diagnosed with a hereditary kidney disease. She died from cardiac arrest. It was the most devastating thing of my life. She had become my mother in those five years and a best friend of sorts.
The one thought that kept repeating through my mind for the next two years was how much like my mother I really was. I remembered her as a sad woman who's only joy was her children. Did I want my children to remember me that way?
When my son was a yr and a half old, I asked for a divorce. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but I determined that I had to set boundaries of what did and did not make me happy. I had to do this not only for myself, but for my son as well.
I can say that today, I am a happy person. My life is what I wanted to make it. I have learned it is okay to learn something new every single day and that each day is a blessing and a miracle in itself. I eventually got back with my high school sweetheart. We have been married nearly nine years and have a son together. He has a similar background to mine, but also found that he wanted more from his life as well. I can say that we neither of us are big on drinking or the violence that occurred in our childhoods. We have the same goals and the same ideas about how we want our children raised. He is the love of my life. And he takes great care of my firstborn when his father slacks which is pretty often.
Neither of us could say that we lived in the same place for most of our childhood. My children have had the same home for a little more than nine years. My husband has held the same job for nearly nine years. (His father changes jobs yearly) We feel we continue to progress forward.
Through the years, we have helped family members out by allowing them to stay with us when they were down. I can say that most of them have gone on to lead better lives. I don't want to say that it was because of us, because they did their own work. We just loved and supported them through it, without allowing them to break our boundaries and rules.
Which brings me to why I am here today. I allowed my Aunt, who is 53yrs old, to move in with us in February of this year. I have had all I can take of her disrespecting our home, our family, and our boundaries. I told her to move on. She is clearly an alcoholic in denial. She seems to not realize that we can see that she lies, steals, and sneaks to hide the truth of who and what she has become. I had to face the fact that I have not changed some of my learned behaviors from childhood. I don't know if I can overcome these behaviors or not, but I do know that it is my job to teach my children that the things she is displaying are not acceptable. If I allow her to stay and continue in this manner, which I am certain she will whether I approve or not, I am sending them the wrong message.
I cannot do this. I will not do this. I found this site before I decided to tell her to take her problems and move out. She has refused any and all help that I have made available to her. (I got her into counseling, she lies to her counselors. I tried to get her into to AA, she uses an old excuse to not go, etc..etc..etc..) If she doesn't want the help, I cannot make her get it. But I can control how she affects my family.
It weighs heavily on my heart. But I know it is the right thing to do. When my children began hiding her beer and asking her to not drink every day or not to buy it when she goes to the store, there is a problem. Whether she wants to admit it or not.
Well, bless your heart, if you read this whole thing.
Member
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: ontario, canada
Posts: 540
You truly did the right thing. You know you did. It sounds like you have had a very difficult life but have managed to overcome alot of obstacles. My heart goes out to you. Only your aunt can change her own behaviour not any one else. Children do not need to be subjected to the abuse of alcohol. Don't be so hard on yourself.
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