A Road Well Traveled

Moving back in with my mom after living my Dad was a little hard.  That's when I began acting out.  I was angry, I lost my identity in the family and I didn't know who I was.

I continued attending Alateen meetings.  I liked the other kids at the meeting. We shared a bond because of our abuse experiences.  Some were getting hit like I was.  Some were being thrown through patio doors.  There was always someone who had it worse.

During this angry period I was going through, I guess I was becoming too rage filled.  My mom talked to me and gave me an ultimatum.  She said either I go see a counselor or I move out of the house.  Being fifteen years old and having a logical mind, I knew moving out wasn't the way to go.

I  ended up seeing this counselor who went to Al-Anon and was a Reverend.  She didn't have much to work with because I'd show up with my long hair covering my face, leather coat, t-shirt and raggedy jeans.  I never talked.  She did all the talking.

Eventually I took the driver's ed class and passed.  My mom shared her car with me.  I found a new sense of freedom.  I also found a new way to hide.

I wasn't the best at picking my mom up from work on time.  I put other people before her.  But then again, I didn't care.

I kept seeing this counselor until I was 20.  I eventually talked to her.  Unfortunately she mislabeled me.  She didn't recognize sexual abuse or PTSD symptoms.  I'd come into a saving relationship with Jesus.  I decided to leave because some of what she said contradicted what the bible taught.  When I asked her about it she said the bible was written a long time ago and basically the things in the old testament were no longer applicable.  That made sense at first until God convicted the truth in me.

The journey of therapy groups and therapists went on for the next 30 years.

Alcoholism, abuse, divorce and other stuff took time to surface and work through.  It's not an easy road.  It's a road that was created by others that only God and I can heal.

And some days.....it's a long long journey.

Divorce Insanity Then Sanity

My parents divorced just after my fifteenth birthday.  For eleven years I was abused over and over again.  There was lots of yelling and screaming and crying from all of us.  

And then....there was silence.

The alcoholic was gone.  The crazy yet predictable behavior vanished.  I no longer had to protect myself, my mom and my sisters from the monster.  The monster was gone.

And yet there was something unsettling inside of me.  Something that couldn't accept this peaceful way of life.  It was too quiet, too uneventful, too "normal."  

One day not long after my dad moved out my mom made another announcement.  She directed it toward me.  "I'm going to be the parent now."  I laughed and said, "Right!  You have no idea what to do."  "That may be true," she replied, "But I'm going to try anyway."  "Fine," I said, "Good luck."

I lost the chaos of living with an active and violent alcoholic which I thought was normal.

I lost the parenting role I'd had for so many years in my home.

My identity was being stripped from me and I was slowly not knowing who I was.

I didn't like the changes my mom was making.  I decided that maybe my dad's alcoholism really wasn't that bad after all.  I asked him if I could move in and he said yes.

When my dad was living with us he would get dressed up on Friday or Saturday night and go out.  I asked him one time where he went.  He told me he went to the chicken place and ate chicken in the car and just sat there.  I didn't really believe him but I did give him credit for not telling me the truth.

I share this because soon after I moved in he came to me and asked if his "friend" could move in with us.  Her name was Shirley.  I said yes.  Shirley became my new best friend.  My borderline personality disorder kicked into full swing.  I clung to her and pretty soon the abuse started all over again.

After three months of living in the insanity again I decided I was going to go to my Alateen meeting.  I packed my bag, walked downstairs and had to walk passed him in the bar to get out the door.  As I approached the bar someone gave him a nod and he turned to face me.  He got toe to toe with me and asked where I thought I was going.  I told him I was going to my Alateen meeting.  He said no your not.  He had that look in his eye like we were going to engage in a starring match.  This is one of times I was glad there were other people around.  He said if I walked out the door not to plan on coming back.  I walked past him and out that door.

The Alateen meeting was about twelve miles from my house.  I walked half way when all of a sudden my mom saw me and pulled over.  I got into her suburban, didn't say a word, she didn't ask any questions and she took me to my meeting (which is where she was going for her meeting).

I moved out of my dad's place.  

I moved back into my mom's house.

Those two blocks between them seemed like miles after I decided to do what was best for me.

I was a real mess for a long time after the divorce.  Even today, thirty-two years later, I still have flashes of anger, irritation, aggravation and other negative emotions surface.

At least I knew enough to know I could go back to my mom.  She has never rejected me no matter how screwed up I get.  I'm very blessed to have a mom who listens and obeys to what God tells her.

You see, she wasn't going to go that way to the meeting.  She felt a nudge to go that way.  And then...there I was.

My Parents Divorce

When I was in Alateen, divorced parents were a common thread for some of us.  There were also parents where one or both stopped drinking and were working an Alcoholics Anonymous program. Still, there were some of us who had one or both parents living at home who were actively drinking and there was no hope of relief.

The moment my mom made the announcement that she was going to divorce my dad is seared in my mind.  She asked my sisters and I into the kitchen.  We sat around the table.  Her words were short without anger or fear.  She simply said, "I met with an attorney.  I'm divorcing your dad."

I'm not sure how my sisters were feeling because this was a decision I'd been pleading with my mom to make.  "C'mon, mom, get rid of dad, we'll be okay."  Coming out of the mouth of a twelve to fourteen year old probably wasn't reassuring but at that time I felt desperate to get him out of the house and more importantly, out of my life.

From my perspective, the abuse was already more than I could handle.  I'd already attempted suicide and runaway from home for two weeks (my parents knew where I was) by age thirteen.  I was still wetting the bed, pulling the hair out of my head, eating food to kill the painful feelings, not knowing how to hide and protect myself from the sexual abuse I'd survived from multiple perpetrators and the violence and intimidation he used to control me was taking a heavy toll.  I didn't think I could take much more.

I thought I would be elated and filled with joy with this announcement.  I must admit, I was relieved.  But then, as the days passed, I found myself feeling mixed emotions.  My dad began acting differently.  He was quieter.  He didn't talk much.  He wasn't home much.  There was a staggering decrease in fighting and there wasn't anymore abuse.  He looked defeated.  I'd never seen him look so broken.

On the day he moved out, he asked me to help him.  Yeah, I know, I thought it was weird, too.  Even though all that crap happened in my life because of him, the healing tools from Alateen that I was applying in my life gave me the grace to help my dad.  No other love but God's love could have helped my dad.

So, he was gone.  He didn't move far.  It was in the same village we lived in.

What does a child do when she is used to the yelling and screaming and then all of a sudden the house is peaceful and quiet?

She moves in with the alcoholic parent.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life

So much has gone on in the past four days I don't even know where to begin.

I came home from my mom's filled with her love, kindness and home cooking.  The fall leaves were at their peak, a black bear was walking down her road then into the forest across from her home and while sitting in her chair looking out the same window the next evening I saw four white tail deer walk out of the forest then back in again.  I felt as if God arranged a nature show.

Her laughter always gets me going.  She's seventy one years old and still makes funny faces, says funny expressions, knows how to play along with a joke and has the best smile I've ever seen.  My mom can be quite a sneaky prankster, too.  While we didn't get to play our 'out for blood' board game (Sorry!), I know the next time I go up to visit, there will be a pot of chili and those cards waiting for us to go head to head.

My mom will be visiting for Thanksgiving.  It's always nice to have her down here.  She gets to see her friends but more importantly she gets to see my one sister and her children.  Mom is all about the grandchildren, of which there are nine.  The oldest is twenty-five; the youngest is ten.  A wide spectrum of opportunity to influence each child for Christ.  My mom is a solid example of living life in Jesus' name.

I hope in my recovery I am able to heal and grow like she has.  I know she would scoff at that but it's true.  My mom has set the example for my sisters and I for just over three decades.  She'd be the first one to tell you she isn't perfect and has made mistakes along the way.  We know that.

My mom leads by example.  When she makes a mistake, she apologizes for it.  She owns it.  She does not justify the behavior or make excuses.  She asks for forgiveness and then she does what all of us need to remember to do:  She forgives herself and lets it go.

My mom lives in the solution, not the problem.  She'll admit she causes a lot of her own problems as do I and everyone else living on this planet.  In our dysfunctional home we were taught the alcoholic was immune from causing problems.  We were the ones to blame for his behavior.  That was a lie.

Today our family lives in recovery because my mom made a choice to get help for our family.  When my dad decided he didn't want to get help or didn't need any help my mom waited until it was the right time to make the right decision.

"I met with a lawyer today.  I'm going to divorce your Dad."

That was in August of 1982.

I didn't know it at the time but that's the day my life would change.....

Forever.