I failed at this around Day 18 (in my defense, work was crazy AND a benefit for a good friend happened this weekend, so out of work time was crazy and then Kiddo was over and yeah I suck....) but here is my shortened version of each to play catch up:
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
To each his/her own. In a time where half of all marriage fail in this country, I feel like anyone, no matter their sexual orientation should have a crack at it. Plus, all those "marriage is sacred" people are usually on their 4 or 5 one (example: Rush Limbaugh is on his 4th where the 59 year old married a 33 year old girl. Nuff said.) Plus my first best friend in the 3rd grade was a boy who later came out in high school. We played barbies together as kids, so I always knew. I love me some gay dudes. In grad school, I had a girl crush on the cutest lesbian ever...we worked together on a project and she called me pretty. How flipping flattering is that?! Basically, whatever floats your boat is my credo on love in the romantic sense.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics? (I choose to discuss religion....politics are annoying, at best. Religion talk is the lesser of two evils to me.)
I see religion as something that gets so many people through each day and through tough times of life. I see the point and why there are so many different ones, but growing up Catholic I found little solace in my faith. I dabbled in being Methodist for a while. Then I went to college, became an Anthropology Minor and learned so much about evolution that I can't believe in God and all that jazz. I also took an Eastern Religions course where I decided if I did ever decide to pursue one again, it would be Buddhism.
Currently I like to think we aren't all just floating around on a whim, and that things to do happen for a reason, but I don't think God is that reason. I don't think praying to this God results in things happening or not happening, but I do think it makes people feel better to believe such a thing, so again, to each his/her own. Wouldn't it be nice of religious extremists (of all faiths, mind you) could say the same?
I also think religion is used by the powerful to undermine the weak, and that it has NO PLACE WHATSOEVER in government (even though it continues to crop up again, an again and yet again.)
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Ehhhhhhhh, this is tricky, because I used to partake in smoking a certain plant (and when legalized, I would probably again) AND I have a very love/hate relationship with booze. But let the truth be told......
I am a high strung individual. I don't decompress easily so I sort of used to use a little maryjane for medicinal reasons. It made me such a nicer person to be around. And yeah, it was smoked a lot just for the hell of it as well. After a while though, it got boring, and all I would want to do is nap afterwards, and that's not exactly conducive to getting homework done in college. I don't think Marijuana is addictive. At all. I think some people just really, really like to get high all the time. I have friends who have jobs, pay their bills and taxes and are awesome people, plus they like to get high. I think the government should legalize and tax the crap out of it (much like Alcohol and cigarettes) and get on with it.
Besides that, I've never done any other drugs, or any "hard" drugs......with one single time of snorting coke. I was not impressed and never did it again. Addiction is a scary thing, and I am very careful when prescribed any strong painkillers because having an Alcoholic father and a somewhat addictive personality could equal very bad things. This also kept me away from anything crazy, along with good common sense that putting something in my body that could potentially make all my teeth fall out (ie: meth) is a BAD idea, no matter the high.
Drinking IN MODERATION is something I am A-OK with. When an individual loses control, time and time again, I have a major problem with it. It can be a very bad thing for some people. I've seen it, first hand, deteriorate relationships and cause so many problems that would have never been without intoxication. Alcoholism is a disease, and if you know me well, I tend to stop drinking altogether whenever something dramatic happens with my dad and the sauce. I haven't felt out of control with it since before I met my husband though, so I think I am doing just fine with occasionally, socially drinking.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
First off, my best friend and I are grown ups and we rarely fight anymore. I'm talking it has been YEARS since we have argued. We have agreed to disagree on certain things, but we never fight anymore. We don't live near each other to see each other a lot, so we just tend to have a good time catching up when we do.
If it would have happened when we were in high school, I would have cried a bunch and then headed to the hospital to make sure she was okay. If she was I would have apologized, and if she wasn't, I would probably be a much different person today. She is the best friend I've ever had.
So that catches me up. Hopefully from here on out I can keep on track!
Showing posts with label Alcoholics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alcoholics. Show all posts
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Day Four: Forgiveness Part Two.
Something you have to forgive someone for.
This one is heavy. This one is going to suck to write. A lot. I have to forgive my father for being an Alcoholic. Which is huge, since my reaction to his drinking has always been anger. I've been angry at my dad for being an alcoholic since before I realized he was an alcoholic.
The complex part of things is he has always been a functional alcoholic. He went to work, provided us with the basics, and even spent time with us on the weekends. He taught us right from wrong as well as any high school graduate with trade school training could do. He took us to mass every Sunday and Grandmas's every Sunday afternoon for supper without fail. He projected the epitome of lower-middle class fatherhood. He has never met a stranger, and is friendly as you can imagine.
Yet my fondest memories with my dad were the Saturday afternoons I'd go with him to do his "sign ups". There I would sit, in smoky VFW and Legion Tap Rooms where I would spend a few hours playing songs on the jukebox, drinking Shirley Temple's and eating popcorn. It took me until I was about 22 to realize this wasn't normal quality time with a parent. I was getting impatient one day and a poured the rest of a can of beer into a clear glass with about 4 inches of golden liquid in it (I assumed they were both beer and was trying to speed up the process). Nope, it was whiskey. My dad sort of laughed at me for it, and downed it anyway.
I was never physically abused (and for that I am so grateful) but there was a great deal of emotional/psychological abuse. There was a time he was really wasted one afternoon when I was in high school. We got into an argument about something or other (which was usually a combo of three things: the speed at which I talked, him being hard of hearing AND being intoxicated) and I got scared. So scared I locked myself in the bathroom, crying. When asked why I had locked myself in the bathroom, I told him he was scaring me and he proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs on the other side of the door about how could I ever think he would lay a finger on me? He would NEVER do that. And he never did, but I can't count the amount of times things resulted in screaming and crying. I would say at least once a week during my teenage years and I witnessed it earlier than that, while my older brother still lived at home.
Since I moved out and we've all gotten older, there have been multiple times he's almost drank himself to death. The first is what made me finally realize he is an Alcoholic. The last time it came out that he switched to vodka because my mom wouldn't be able to smell it on him (whiskey was always his drink of choice with a beer....or four) and the people at the bar thought he was having a stroke before he lost consciousness.
I do not want to get that call one day....that he is gone because of booze. So even though I know, for a fact, my anger doesn't stop the drinking, I cling to it, because I don't know what else to be about it because it is so frustrating and I'm so stubborn (so much like him) about things.
The anger I feel about it is dumb. I know its a disease, I know it is so much harder than just stopping. I know he is now retired after working over 35 years and he doesn't know what to do with himself. I know there is probably some mental health issues he has and has never confronted. I know I have to forgive him for it, for being loaded most evenings of my childhood, for the memories of my parents fighting about it, resulting in him walking to the bar a few blocks from our house, for putting my mother through dealing with him all these years, its just hard. Hard to let go of anger I have been brewing for over half my life.
He hasn't drank since the last "episode" with the vodka (as far as I've been told) so I'm hoping things stay that way. Although it is very hard to be optimistic when he has "quit" more times than I can count and he always goes back and he never tries AA.
This one is heavy. This one is going to suck to write. A lot. I have to forgive my father for being an Alcoholic. Which is huge, since my reaction to his drinking has always been anger. I've been angry at my dad for being an alcoholic since before I realized he was an alcoholic.
The complex part of things is he has always been a functional alcoholic. He went to work, provided us with the basics, and even spent time with us on the weekends. He taught us right from wrong as well as any high school graduate with trade school training could do. He took us to mass every Sunday and Grandmas's every Sunday afternoon for supper without fail. He projected the epitome of lower-middle class fatherhood. He has never met a stranger, and is friendly as you can imagine.
Yet my fondest memories with my dad were the Saturday afternoons I'd go with him to do his "sign ups". There I would sit, in smoky VFW and Legion Tap Rooms where I would spend a few hours playing songs on the jukebox, drinking Shirley Temple's and eating popcorn. It took me until I was about 22 to realize this wasn't normal quality time with a parent. I was getting impatient one day and a poured the rest of a can of beer into a clear glass with about 4 inches of golden liquid in it (I assumed they were both beer and was trying to speed up the process). Nope, it was whiskey. My dad sort of laughed at me for it, and downed it anyway.
I was never physically abused (and for that I am so grateful) but there was a great deal of emotional/psychological abuse. There was a time he was really wasted one afternoon when I was in high school. We got into an argument about something or other (which was usually a combo of three things: the speed at which I talked, him being hard of hearing AND being intoxicated) and I got scared. So scared I locked myself in the bathroom, crying. When asked why I had locked myself in the bathroom, I told him he was scaring me and he proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs on the other side of the door about how could I ever think he would lay a finger on me? He would NEVER do that. And he never did, but I can't count the amount of times things resulted in screaming and crying. I would say at least once a week during my teenage years and I witnessed it earlier than that, while my older brother still lived at home.
Since I moved out and we've all gotten older, there have been multiple times he's almost drank himself to death. The first is what made me finally realize he is an Alcoholic. The last time it came out that he switched to vodka because my mom wouldn't be able to smell it on him (whiskey was always his drink of choice with a beer....or four) and the people at the bar thought he was having a stroke before he lost consciousness.
I do not want to get that call one day....that he is gone because of booze. So even though I know, for a fact, my anger doesn't stop the drinking, I cling to it, because I don't know what else to be about it because it is so frustrating and I'm so stubborn (so much like him) about things.
The anger I feel about it is dumb. I know its a disease, I know it is so much harder than just stopping. I know he is now retired after working over 35 years and he doesn't know what to do with himself. I know there is probably some mental health issues he has and has never confronted. I know I have to forgive him for it, for being loaded most evenings of my childhood, for the memories of my parents fighting about it, resulting in him walking to the bar a few blocks from our house, for putting my mother through dealing with him all these years, its just hard. Hard to let go of anger I have been brewing for over half my life.
He hasn't drank since the last "episode" with the vodka (as far as I've been told) so I'm hoping things stay that way. Although it is very hard to be optimistic when he has "quit" more times than I can count and he always goes back and he never tries AA.
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