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Dear You – Me

Thank you for coming on this journey. Life is not for the faint of heart. Parenting is a mystery at best. Just when we think we’ve got this down… a child upsets the apple cart. We scramble to save those sweet apples from bruising and loss. I could have written another book on alcoholism rehab or therapy. I could have given you magic steps on ” what to do” next to survive these stormy waters of addiction and alcoholism, but there are plenty of those books written by Ph.D.’s with incredible information that will never benefit your addict because they won’t accept the help…and that will piss you off more.
For my own peace of mind – I must reconcile the good with the bad, the dark with the light. Remembering who we all are, Children of God, a loving Father in Heaven who cries with us. We can be valiant without enabling our loved ones chronic self-destruction. We can heal our wounds while our loved one won’t, by accepting we are not powerless over booze. I welcome you into the noise of my life, here at Live Wise Life, may we share each others turmoil of someone else’s drinking.
Tough love is not love.
I can do tough love.  I  may not ever see any improvement in you or your behavior but I will be free from it.
Resistance is futile… says the Borg.
I can let go of my outdated, unuseful expectations of a happy life for you and whole and happy intact family unit for me. like dandelions blowing in the wind… off they go.
Love what is baby. Yep, I can do that.  I can be my own healer. I can be my own best friend.
I can have stronger boundaries – I mean, for heavens sake what reasonable 40 year old wants to live with his parents… oh – of course. you aren’t reasonable , you are drunk.
I don’t find any joy in being a co-dependent or enabing you in the slightest way.
I don’t owe you anything. I have done everything  possible under the sun to pursuade you, guide you, encourage you to stop drinking yourself shitfaced. My duty towards you for you – is complete.
Maybe instead of tough LOVE… I can call it tough boundaries… I still love you and always will. But abuse and disrespect from you doesn’t equate to love – so I am done talking about it.  And I am not going to be your victim.
I am sorry you are so sick. I’m sorry you have pain. But in your unwillingness to be free of it and get better, my efforts are wasted and I won’t offer any more.  I may be a slow learner but I’m not stupid.
I am unbelievably sad for you –  because I admit I had a different vision of your life. It’s not wrong – It’s natural -to want happiness and good things for you and the little family you used to have.  I have grieved it and now I am letting it go. But this contention that follows you like a dirty cloud of raining thorns is not working for me. I choose sunshine.
Living with you has been an unending hurricane of uncertainity and destruction.
Your Dad and I  have paid a heavy price for trying to save you from yourself. And now I’m broke. So good luck and God speed. I will pray for you everyday.
I admit I have this on-going, surging, retreating, Mom-guilt conflict in my head… but I can work that out.  It’s easy to be addicted to my addict and his drama.  I know I am an easy target. Its because I want to believe in you. I want to believe in the hope for a better day. I will buy it, hook line and sinker almost every time.
I accept that- to you- I am a bad parent. I accept that in your eyes I am to blame. I accept that you believe everyone hates you and that is good reason to drink… because who wouldn’t drink if everyone hated you.  I accept that your view of life is so distorted you wouldn’t recognize truth if it slapped you upside the head with a broken bottle of booze.
Fortunately for me, I don’t care what outsiders think of me… I am not easily influenced by others – I don’t care what the neioghbors thikn, they have their own secret addicts to worry about.
I give and give and give, you steal, you take and take and I lose.
I take responsibility for my years of enabling and baby-sitting that has prevented you from landing on your feet, to learn and grow from your own experiences… or even die.
I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you a plan of action.
There is no trust left.  You are untrustworthy in almost every regard… only in sober moments can I trust you wont let the dogs out.  I know the booze does this to you… but you are now 1 with the booze.
I am grateful. I can laugh and have good sense of humor about this journey. You are pretty funny stumbling drunk through the house… and you say the most ridiculous things – ya, its good for a laugh.  And I laugh at myself. I laugh when I get caught in your trap… when I find a stash… I laugh when the jail won’t even keep you long enough for a good sober nap.  I know, its a game and good for a giggle. I’m not going to live in anger.
You have been a wonderful teacher for all behaviors I despise.  Alcoholisim has robbed me of a beautiful son – but it has robbed you of everything good.  It has robbed you of any sense of goodness towards others including yourself. I have learned so many things.
You need to move on. I am breaking up with you.   God will take care of you one way or the other- in the best way for you. Don’t call me.
The rescue mission has been cancelled dues to budget cuts and reduction of parental motivation.
food for thought:
 
” Grainger Brown a family counselor in Helena Montana , describes the trauma of a parent trying to save his or her addicted child as equal to the trauma of a combat veteran who has blamed himself for the war…
1992 by Judith Herman in her book Trauma & Recovery. It is a psychological injury that results from protracted exposure to prolonged interpersonal trauma with “loss of feeling in control”, “disempowerment”, or “feeling trapped,” which parents suffer knowing they are responsible for underage children in grave danger. The key difference between PTSD and C-PTSD is the concept of “protracted exposure.”   we see now  high percentage of first-generation addicts, and the devastation to relatively normal parents when their children turn to drugs is incomprehensible    Bonnie A. DenDooven, MC, LAC,
drunk
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