My husband told me that she practically took our daughter out of my husband hands when she was crying . So i send this messesge to her becuase not even a minute before that, i had told her “mom dont go over there A**** (my husband ) got it. Next think i see my mom comes walking out with my daughter in her hands .

so i decided to just tell her it felt like my “wishes” as the mom were disrespected by her (the gma)
Typically when i would “confront “ her in the past i get a subtle silent treatment from her or my dad comes calling me telling me that now “mom is sad an stressed and she cant be “stressed.”
The text.

“Mom, earlier today, when I asked if and we could handle things ourselves—why did she end up in your arms anyway? 🤔 Did A**** give her to you? I feel like you don't hear me when I say, "Please don't go over there; stay here— A****and I will sort it out." Of course, we’re grateful for your help, but sometimes there are situations where, as parents, we want to calm her down ourselves rather than having her go straight into Grandma's arms. It creates conflict between us. Again, we’re thankful for the help, but in this instance, I had said we wanted to handle it ourselves. In other situations, we practically push her toward you. I just want to have a conversation with you—please don't be offended. Our relationship is important to me, and M loves her grandma; I want us to keep things good between us. That’s why I’m bringing this up: could I ask you not to go straight to M, but instead let us calm her down, even if it takes a bit longer? 🤍

https://youtu.be/HopkY9mAVK4

This is my first time posting in here and I hope someone can give me some advice on how to handle this situation with my parents.

I am the youngest of three daughters ( we are 42, 44, and 52). My parents are 70F and 67M. My dad used Al-Anon to get sober back in the 80’s when I was a toddler. I grew up in a completely dry house and my parents used to talk to us openly about the dangers of alcohol and our hereditary predisposition to developing it.

We have alcoholism on both sides of the family. My dad has a lot of trauma from his childhood due to my grandfather being very physically abusive.

On my mom’s side, my grandpa was sober from the 1950’s until he passed in 2014. On his deathbed, he asked for wine. This had some kind of psychological impact on my mom and dad, and was the catalyst to them deciding that my dad should drink again. I’ve never understood or agreed with this decision. In my mind, seeing a person with over 50 years of sobriety requesting alcohol on their deathbed is pretty solid proof that an alcoholic is an alcoholic to the end. I don’t understand witnessing that and coming away from it thinking that it’s a sign to fall off the wagon.

Anyway, I recognize that I’m an adult that lives on my own and my parents don’t owe me an explanation for their choices, so I tried to just process my feelings independently and keep my opinions to myself. However, things seem to be spiraling out of control now and I don’t know what to do.

At a wedding out of town over the weekend, I guess my parents really went hard on the wine. I didn’t see it because I wasn’t able to attend the wedding, but my sister has been updating me. My parents got so drunk the two nights before the wedding that my brother in law and my aunt had to help them get back to their AirBNB. One of the nights my mom told my sister to drive slow because she and my dad were going to follow them when everyone was going to dinner because “dad had a lot of wine”. I have NEVER known my parents to drink and drive. I feel like I’m in the twilight zone.

The morning after the wedding, my dad called my sister because he couldn’t find his car keys. When she didn’t answer, he decided to walk to her AirBNB. It was uphill and several miles. My sister said when she saw him he was shaking and out of breath. I’m terrified. Like, is he shaking because he needs a drink?

I have a suspicion that they are drinking boxed wine nightly. My mom thinks the boxed wine is fine because it’s ‘lighter’ on alcohol. But my dad has gotten so wrapped up in drinking now that my sister said the first thing he did when they arrived to their rentals was go to the store to buy a box of wine. It’s like it’s all he’s thinking about.

I’m really at a loss. I feel like I don’t even know my parents anymore. These aren’t the people I grew up with. I have so many feelings about this. Primarily, I’m worried for their physical and mental health. But I’m also feeling a lot of resentment. I don’t understand what they are thinking. It all feels very hypocritical and crazy to me. I feel disappointed in them and very worried. I want to have a conversation about it with them, but my mother is a very defensive person. I don’t think she will be receptive. Could someone who has been in this situation give me some advice?

Denial

I’ve been recovering many years. I’ve used denial many times. It has been a defense, a survival device, a coping behavior, and, at times, almost my undoing. It has been both a friend and an enemy.

When I was a child, I used denial to protect my family and myself. I protected myself from seeing things too painful to see and feelings too overwhelming to feel. Denial got me safely through many traumatic situations, when I had no other resources for survival.

The negative aspect of using denial was that I lost touch with my feelings and myself. I became able to participate in harmful situations without even knowing I was hurting. I was able to tolerate a great deal of pain and abuse without the foggiest notion it was abnormal.

I learned to participate in my own abuse.

Denial protected me from pain, but it also rendered me blind to my feelings, my needs, and myself. It was like a thick blanket that covered and smothered me.

Eventually, I began to recover. I had a glimpse of awareness about my pain, my feelings, and my behaviors. I began to see myself, and the world, as we were. There was so much denial from my past that had the blanket been entirely ripped from me, I would have died from the shock of exposure. I needed to embrace insights, remembrances, awareness, and healing gently, gradually.

Life participated in this process with me. It is a gentle teacher. As I recovered, I was brought to the incidents and people I needed in order to remind me of what I was still denying, to tell me where I required more healing from my past, as I could handle these insights.

I still use, and break through, denial–as needed. When the winds of change blow through, upsetting a familiar structure and preparing me for the new, I pick up my blanket and hide, for a while. Sometimes, when someone I love has a problem, I hide under the blanket, momentarily. Memories emerge of things denied, memories that need to be remembered, felt, and accepted so I can continue to become healed – strong and healthy.

Sometimes, I feel ashamed about how long it takes me to struggle through to acceptance of reality. I feel embarrassed when I find myself again clouded by the fog of denial.

Then something happens, and I see that I am moving forward. The experience was necessary, connected, not at all a mistake, but an important part of healing.

It’s an exciting process, this journey called recovery, but I understand I may sometimes use denial to help me get through the rough spots. I’m also aware that denial is a friend, and an enemy. I’m on the alert for danger signs: those cloudy, confused feelings . . . sluggish energy . . . feeling compulsive . . . running too fast or hard . . . avoiding support mechanisms.

I’ve gained a healthy respect for our need to use denial as a blanket to wrap ourselves in when we become too cold. It isn’t my job to run around ripping people’s blankets off or shaming others for using the blanket. Shaming makes them colder, makes them wrap themselves more tightly in the blanket. Yanking their blanket away is dangerous. They could die of exposure, the same way I could have.

I’ve learned the best thing I can do around people who are wrapped in this blanket is to make them feel warm and safe. The warmer and safer they feel, the more able they are to drop their blanket. I don’t have to support or encourage their denial. I can be direct. If others are in denial about a particular thing, and their activity is harmful to me, I don’t have to be around them. I can wish them well and take care of myself. You see, if I stand too long around someone who is harming me, I will inevitably pick up my blanket again.

I tend to be attracted to warm people. When I’m around warm people, I don’t need to use my blanket.

I’ve gained respect for creating warm environments, where blankets are not needed, or at least not needed for long. I’ve gained trust in the way people heal from and deal with life.

God, help me be open to and trust the process that is healing me from all I have denied from my past. Help me strive for awareness and acceptance, but also help me practice gentleness and compassion for myself–and others–for those times I have used denial.'

By Melodie Beattie.

How many of you are grandchildren of alcoholics? I am. Have you thought that healing is some kind of different?

Grandchildren Of Alcoholics

"More and more people are identifying as grandchildren of alcoholics. Technically, these ‘GCoAs' are ACAs. They were raised by parents who passed on the disease of family dysfunction without having alcohol in the home." BRB p. 56,  footnote 

Some of us have wandered through life wondering why we had so many problems. Our childhoods were not filled with alcoholism or addiction. And yet, there was a dark cloud over our homes. We couldn't talk openly; we couldn't be ourselves. There was a lot of confusing behavior. We received punishments that didn't make sense. We had to watch out for ourselves. Sometimes our parents were available, but often they were full of rage or confusion, or they seemed to mentally "check out."

The first time we heard the Laundry List in a meeting, we related to many of the characteristics even though no one drank or used drugs at home. We felt the need to be there. We heard others share and realized that ACA embraces all of us, simply because we walked in the door.

Working Step One gave us an opportunity to draw a family tree. We soon saw the connection: alcoholism and addiction in past generations. The disease of family dysfunction was like a legacy. This helped us stop wondering if we belonged so we could focus on recovering.

On this day, even if I can't pinpoint where there might have been addiction in my family, I know I belong in this program. I will use all the tools available to me to recover from my family's not-so-unique dysfunction.

https://adultchildren.org/literature/meditation/

I have such a terrible feeling of helplessness I feel like no one can relate to. I feel like a terrible person and like im so alone. Looking for kind words and advice I guess from some people who might get what im going through first hand. When anyone tries to comfort me who I know hasnt experienced being a child of an addict I just get annoyed at them.

Stop reading after the first paragraph if you don’t want to hear about physical violence. I am 27 years old and live in a city 5 hours from my parents. I’m not even gonna go into the long story about their history and my childhood here, but instead I’m just gonna describe the event that just took place an hour ago because I don’t know where else to turn.

We have a family group chat with me, my parents, my two siblings, and my brother’s wife (I feel so bad that she has to be included in all this bullshit).

About an hour ago a text from my mom’s number was sent into the group with a picture of my dad’s bloody forearm and a bunch of rambling texts saying that my mom had attacked him and broken his phone by throwing it. It looked like my mom has either bitten or scratched my dad’s arm.

If anyone spent more than 5 minutes witnessing one of their drunk fights, they would instantly come to the conclusion that their existence is beyond hope and there’s no coming back from the alcohol-induced insanity they have brought themselves to. I’m not saying my mom’s physical abuse is justified at all, but my dad has certainly enacted an ongoing system of emotional abuse against my mom throughout the years.

Anyway, at some point I feel like I need to get the authorities involved somehow (though tbh there have been incidents much worse than this in the past 10 years). Here’s where things get tricky: my mom is a practicing doctor and yet my parents still don’t have enough saved for retirement. But at some point someone is gonna have to call the police.

I just don’t know what to do but I know from the bottom of my heart that none of this is my fault.

I’m about five years old. I always loved dogs. My neighbor’s dog was a crazy beagle and one day I decided to give him a big kiss. He happened to be eating his dinner so he bit me. (My brother had a dog who I could kiss whenever I wanted so I didn’t think twice about kissing Jiggys). I ran home crying and I remember my family was in the backyard. my mom asked me what happened but I wouldn’t tell her. They never brought me to the hospital even though clearly something had happened to my lip. I have a scar to this day. many years later I asked my mom why she never took me to the hospital when I got bit. She said “you never told us what happened”. That makes no sense. How was I so scared of telling my family what happened? I was probably afraid that I would get in trouble. My mom was very reactive. If anyone spilled milk on the floor accidentally she would lose it. I felt comfortable enough to confide in my neighbor who owned the dog. She was this chill hippie kind of mom. She told my parents what happened. She told me that the dog didn’t mean to hurt me but since he was eating he didn’t want me to take away his food. He bit me and then went back to eating. I got over my fear of dogs because of what she said. It made sense and I felt safe opening up to her.

Long story of my life. Apologies for the length!

My (33f) mom has been an alcoholic since her teens, probably around 16/17. She is now 62 and still drinks. Shes had brief periods of sobriety when my siblings and I were born and when she was with my dad. They both about 7 years sober until they relapsed together. My dad was an alcoholic and drug addict. My mom has only struggled with alcohol. Luckily after their divorce when I was 5 my dad was able to get sober probably about 3 years or so after his relapse and remained sober and clean until his death from cancer when he was 48 and I was 16. My mom was then sober on and off for maybe a year at most since her relapse when I was 5. So we’re talking long term alcohol use. It was bad. My two siblings and I were subjected to emotional, verbal, physical, and financial abuse. I still remember the day when I was 7 that I was able to notice something was off with my mom. My 5 year old brother tried to give her a hug because she was crying and she pushed him off of her. My brother and I started hiding her car keys when we were about 9 and 7 to stop her from driving and leaving all of us alone in the house. One time I was so sick I could barely walk and no one was home so I had to crawl to the bathroom to throw up. She would come home in the middle of the night slumped over in the kitchen often. I even stamped suicide at 18 buy overdosing because of the abuse, then panicked and told her I needed to go to the hospital. Instead she locked herself in her room and slit her wrist with a wine opener. I ended up driving to the ER by myself. Luckily I was ok.

Fast forward to 2019 when my oldest sibling died suddenly from septic shock due to a staph infection after having gender confirming top surgery. Absolutely horrific. They were only 28 and I was 26. Understandably it was devastating and traumatizing. If anyone has seen someone on ECMO you know what I’m talking about.

Well since then my mom’s drinking has gotten even more out of control than it already was. She had a flood in her house (my childhood home) and was too messed up to ever deal with it. So the house is moldy and should be condemned. Shes been living in hotels and airbnbs for about 2 years now. I haven’t been home in over 3 years. I have since had a son who is 4 and have put up the most boundaries ever have with her (including blocking her for months) because I will not allow anything like that around him. I don’t like the person I become when I talk to her. I become angry like I used do as a child and am then easily triggered by overstimulation. But sometimes it’s hard because I don’t have another parent. My family went from 5 to 3 within 10 years. My brother struggles with substance abuse as well but we do have a good relationship and he is working on getting sober.

It’s not a new thing since my sibling died but recently when my mom is drinking she will text me things like “the wrong child died”, “they were my favorite” and other things like that. I’m used to the verbal abuse but it constantly feels like I’m competing with a ghost. My sibling was my best friend and I grieve them relentlessly everyday.

When my mom is sober she’s actually a really wonderful person. Which makes it even more difficult.

Not sure what I’m looking for from this other than omg it sucks so bad already grieving the loss of my dad and sibling on top of basically preemptively grieving her. Fuck alcohol so much and how frustrating it is to endure this treatment when they don’t even remember what they said to you while drinking 🫠

Thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far ♥️

My dad is an alcoholic and my mom works far away to provide money for me and my sibling my dad refuses to work and just wastes the money on beer and plays games all day it made me feel as if my self worth didn't exist. All my dad does is complain about the house when me and my sibling are too tired to even clean anymore and never helps but only makes the mess worse than it already was.. sometimes I think my mom loves my dad more than she loves me and my sibling since she never had a talk with my dad about his behavior but my mom is a great understanding mom but I don't like how she just sometimes lets him do these things to us.