Day 14: This time, it’s different.

I wouldn’t be so bold if I wasn’t so sure of it.  Any doubt is removed by my confidence in knowing that, this time it truly is different.  In some ways, at the very least which turns out to be the very most ways.

You see, I’ve always had problems in the area of love and romance, sex and men.  I’ve been a codependent all my life.  A behavior taught by my father whom claimed to love me and be his favorite as he sexually molested me and learned by my mother whom was a codependent herself, also a victim of incest abuse in her childhood.  It was my father whom started to feed me drink at a very early age.  He would have me fetch him a cold Tecate beer, he would poor a fresh lime on top of it till it filled the can’s rim and then sprinkle salt on top of the lime juice.  He would then pull on the tab as the sound of the pop sprang and then the sizzle of the liquid as the lime and salt poured into the beer.  He would take his first drink and make it look so damn delicious as he licked his lips and then he would let some beer liquid onto the top of the beer and he would offer it to me so I too could sip and taste the beer mixed with the lime and salt.

My dad was/is an alcoholic.  When he would come home drunk, it was to my room he often visited first. Oh, how my heart hurts as I type this.  It was here, during these times that I learned to be “submissive” to a man.  I learned that if one didn’t give a man what he wanted, than he wouldn’t love me anymore.  I equated sex with love and boy did that get me into some real bad situations as I became a teenager, young adult and now a woman.

I learned that I wasn’t enough and so I became a perfectionist, an achiever and would go along with the crowds, hiding behind it all.  I never before had opinions about anything and so I often became whatever anyone wanted me to be especially to a man. I didn’t know how to make decisions for myself and I for sure didn’t know what was good for me.

Then I became a mom at the very early age of 18 and then a caregiver to two of my sons which really fueled my inability to know how to care for MYSELF.

Fast forward, 3 marriages later, several sobriety attempts, much therapy and counseling, many many prayers later, I have finally found my voice.  It’s quiet for the most part but I do put it into practice so it can develop. I can see how I’m becoming whom I was always designed to be.  I have opinions and have set down boundaries and the people around me whom are not use to it are taken aback. It’s causing strife.

I ended my first attempt to be sober two years ago (the first months chronicled here on this blog) by drinking AT my husband.  We were going through real hard trying times that involved one of his children and one of mine.  I had kept my sobriety through the initial dramatic stages and then when the dust was starting to settle and I became vulnerable and needing support, I couldn’t find it in him.  I became so infuriated and distraught, I wrote a letter to my sobriety and bid it farewell.  I have that letter somewhere and hope to find it one day and share it.  I remember I told it that he didn’t work, that I still felt not enough and what was the use.  At least alcohol would help me numb the incredible pain I was and still am experiencing from that event. I had other sobriety attempts but each time, I would drink AT my spouse.  Let me be clear, I do NOT blame my husband for any of my relapses.  It was my insecurities that were the culprit. Insecurities that were planted in me as a very little child. Our marital situations would fuel my insecurities and the feelings of unworthiness would come flooding it. It felt unbearable and so I would end up going back to my numbing agent. It was either that or death.  It truly felt that way.

My marriage is still suffering today. We are both believers and want to honor our commitment and so we hang on, praying and hoping things will change.  What is different this time that I didn’t realize until yesterday is that anytime I feel hurt by our conflicts, I don’t seem to think about running to drink anymore.  Instead, I take a deep breath, I pray diligently and I accept the pain and keep moving forward if moving forward is not moving at all.  What’s important is that I find myself at the end of the day realizing I didn’t move backwards.

I’m so grateful by this new knowing and am so grateful to my God whom has answered this prayer.  Thank you Lord!