I was probably 16 the first time my grandma said it to me. “You know, you and your sister need to be careful because in this family, one of you is going to end up an alcoholic.”
I laughed at her because I was 16 and had never had a drop of alcohol in my life. I didn’t even a have a curfew at that point in time, despite having a driver’s license and a car because I was the epitome of a rule follower and my parents knew that I would never drink in high school. They were right. I didn’t even drink my first year away at college, not because of my grandma’s warning, just out of a sense of following the law.
But my grandma’s comment echoes in my ears now all these years later. My dad’s family is not especially large, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in addiction.
I have clear memories of times in my childhood where I didn’t see my dad after school for days, sometimes weeks on end. I don’t remember asking my mom where he was, but I later learned that he was out drinking at various bars around town. I remember the time our car smelled suspiciously like vomit after my parents were out late one Friday night. I remember the Saturday mornings where my dad had “migraines” and we had to stay quiet.
As an adult, I see the markings of alcohol, but as a child I never noticed. I guess that’s one of the great parts about the innocence of childhood.
Astoundingly, my father is actually the most in control of his drinking and probably the least in denial about his relationship with alcohol of anyone in his family. His brother entered AA a decade ago and if you ask his wife or my grandma, he’s a resounding success story. If you ask anyone who’s actually paying any attention, he’s worse than he was before he got his first chip.
My grandma speaks of him as though he is a beacon of hope. He was the first to admit he has a problem, the first to seek help. And that is commendable. But the reality is that he admitted his problem because his wife made him, got help and then went back to drinking secretly. In fact, drinking more heavily than ever, it seems.
The best we can understand, he drinks on his way home from work. He appears sober at his job, but in the evenings, on weekends, at holidays, he is obviously, severely drunk. He drives in this state, he goes to family events, and somehow, everyone pretends like he’s sober even when there is every indication otherwise.
There was the time he was belligerent about eating before everyone else and in the process broke a crock pot, cut his hand open and didn’t even notice, even though it required stitches and bled profusely on his floor. There was the time he drank an entire bottle of vodka between sundown and going to bed while camping with my dad and pretended as though it was his first slip up in a decade. When it happened at every future camping trip, it became clear that it wasn’t an accident and it wasn’t unusual. No one should be able to handle that much alcohol, especially after a decade “sober.”
And every weekend his children post pictures and statuses about drinking on their Facebook and I watch by, in horror, seeing them slowly transform into their father. Talking about blacking out, talking about their 3 day hangovers.
I feel like screaming from the top of my lungs, but like everyone else, I am not brave enough. I am not brave enough to say what everyone sees, what everyone knows. I’m not afraid to speak up, even though it might be the right thing to do. I know my uncle is going to end up hurting someone, and it’s terrible, but I hope he only hurts himself. He drives drunk, he operates heavy machinery drunk, he hunts drunk. There is no question that he is a danger. And yet, I feel as though I am silenced by his secret addiction as much as he is.
I know that the only way he will stop, the only way his children will stop, is when something catastrophic happens. And I fear that day because I know that I will look back and realize that we could’ve done something, we could’ve stopped this spiral. But we chose silence, because silence is easier than confronting demons, easier than spilling secrets.
Because we chose denial, even though the truth was screaming to be told.
I have similar issue in my own family, although it is my step mother and she doesn’t hunt or operate any machinery. She is killing herself though, has had pancreatitis a few times all ready. We all have various reasons for keeping quiet, but for me it is mostly the fear of her denial, and having to prove her wrong. Typing it out makes it feel more ridiculous. Off to look up how to approach the subject, there must be resources out there to help…thank you for your story!!
I come from a long line of alcoholics. Growing up I was warned by open talking father, who was an alcoholic when I was young. I didn’t start drinking until college and I found how how much I liked it (and still do.)
It is a fine line I walk and I could easily slip alcohol with food, my current drug of choice.
I have the same situation in my family, only it’s my cousin who’s drinking. and it’s not a secret she does it blatently. We were all horrified when we found out that she was far enough along in her pregnancy that she could tell us that she was having a boy and we’d all seen her drinking almost constantly for the last several months. She has two small children who don’t even realize when she isn’t around. She dissappeared for a family Thanksgiving dinner this year because she stayed the night at someone’s house getting drunk and her kids weren’t even phased… they, in fact, asked to stay the night with our uncle when she got home later in the day.. The scariest thing about it all is that she’s driving around with her children this way.
We’ve all said something to her privatly about it, she’s been through treatment for all of it, and yet still she drinks.
sad sad sad
Have you ever considered calling the police and reporting her as drunk driving (at a time when you know that she is)? I’ve never had to do this, but I know people who have, and I think you can explain the situation. I also think that, if her kids are in the car with her while she’s drunk, they’ll be taken away (temporarily, at least, until another family member can get them). Getting arrested and having her children taken might be a wake up call. Or maybe not. My friend’s step-dad ran another car off the road, almost took out a telephone pole, and was still making his way down the road when he was pulled over, oblivious to the fact that there was anything wrong. This was 7 years ago, and he’s still a drunk driver.
This is such a great post…so many people can relate. xo
My brother is an alcoholic. We all know it. None of us are ashamed to admit or to say anything in front of him. It doesn’t help though. Until he is ready to change nothing anyone says or does will matter. I just hope he decides to change before he hurts someone or himself.
I am terrified of the fact of becoming an alcoholic, so I don’t drink often. My problem is moderation…when I drink I go for broke. On Halloween I drank and entire 750ml (that’s just over 25 ounces) bottle of El Toro tequila by myself. My cousin’s grandfather said he couldn’t believe I was still standing, much less walking and not throwing up.
Another time I drank an entire 350ml bottle, in shot form, in an hour. When I first turned 21 I was drinking until I couldn’t drink anymore every other night. Somehow I snapped myself out of it and decided that I was being stupid and needed to chill out.
I’ll be 24 this month and haven’t drank since Feb 13th, before that, New Years Eve. My 21 yr old best friend doesn’t understand why I won’t party with her, but I am proud of myself for not giving into the pressure.
My dad is an alcoholic. It pains me to say I mostly see him drunk then sober now. He would drink every night if he could and sometimes he does. My dad is a good man with a serious problem. He drives drunk and it absolutly kills me. I beg and beg him to just call a cab or our family to come get him. He’ll clean his act up and then start again a month or two later. I’m so afraid of what could happen to him or others on the road. I don’t know what to do and I know that’s no excuse but I really don’t know. I’m sorry he has this problem.
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