I started writing my post on motherhood, shame and the emotional impact my drinking had on my children.
I see both good and bad. It is really hard to write. I can pull out depression as a reason for some of my personal ups and downs, but alcohol played a big role in me being unavailable as a mother.
I know forgiving myself for my past mistakes is part of making amends to those I love the most. And living a sober life full of joy, excitement, activity and love is the path to healing.
But writing it down is really hard. Being honest is hard. Converting the reality of a situation that seemed so surreal is hard.
I will try to post tomorrow. This is one aspect of my life that I just can’t lie and pretend that high functioning meant fulfilling the parenting role my kids deserve. I am definitely doing that now. But I wasn’t for a while there.
I’m glad I have enlisted a nice therapist so we can talk about these things openly. Keeping problems hidden was required in my family when I was growing up. I hate skeletons in the closet. It is much scarier to not know than to have to discuss uncomfortable subjects.
I have great kids. Kids who truly supported me when I was alone and depressed and struggling to cope. Who are my husband and i’s greater allies. Who perhaps know more about mental health and addiction than they should, but who show kindness and compassion. For that I am truly grateful.
Although I would like to sweep this whole conversation under the rug, i strongly believe that sharing the bad stories as well as the good help us all. Perhaps my own regrets and hindsight will cause another mom or dad to pause, look at their children, and realize they need a sober parent.
Sigh. Off to reflect, but not wallow.