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Being An Adult Child Of An Alcoholic

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Being an adult child of an alcoholic, I have described myself as a third generation depressed, suicidal alcoholic. That is not who I am today. It’s more a diagnosis, or a description of my lineage.
Although alcohol was never my drug of choice, I managed to do the same amount of damage using other substances, however, at times alcohol was a part of that.
Other than my existence within my own family and my drug addiction, I have no other identity. Most of my life I lived under the influence of one substance or another. I lived a life of fear and numbness. The only child of an abusive, alcoholic father and a totally self-absorbed mother who never taught her any of the basics of being a strong, independent woman. My mother never finished …show more content…

Some of my cousins did well, some did not.

My mother was consumed by substance abuse problems for as long as I knew her, Dad never had those problems, he never smoked, only drank socially. More specifically, after my mom’s death, he only drank while attempting to seduce women. If he had an addiction, it was sex. You could call my dad a misogynist. He was never physically abusive, he didn’t have to be.
They became the proud parents of 3 girls, I am the middle child. Doing well in school, my older sister got a job and moved out of the house right after graduation. She became the defiant one. The baby, my younger sister, Dad and I tried to shield from my mom’s outbursts, she became the protected one. As for myself, I was always running from one to another trying to keep the peace, I became the peacemaker.
Deciding to take up Commercial Shrimping, my dad bought a boat and started going out for 2 to 3 week trips. This was when my family really began to unwind. As a result, my mom began drinking and acting out more. Looking back, he must have had someone watching her, he always knew what was going in and when he came home there was hell to pay.
Since he made all the major decisions, a pattern of “waiting until your dad comes home” began. It was along about this time that our house burned down. Because he had bought it and remodeled it for her, customizing the kitchen to accommodate her 4’11 stature. I think he felt that she was disrespecting him.

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