Well, I've been posting here for a while now, I think it's time I explain myself. I anticipate this will be hard for some to read because it deals with abuse and recovery.

I am an Adult Child of an Alcoholic (ACOA). As a boy, my life was pretty uneventful--I'm an only child and I had two wonderful parents. My parents were much a product of their childhood environments. Both grew up in immigrant homes where English was not the first language. Both were very intelligent and INDEPENDENT people. But like all of us, both were influenced both positively and negatively by their family systems.

Growing up was all about wonder, not doing so well in school, and lots of happy times. That would change when I was around 10 years old.

Around this time, a couple of my grandparents died and I began to notice changes in my Mom's behaviors. Initially, I did not process what was going on. There were a lot of good times, and then, for no apparent reason, my parents would fight. These weren't typically spousal disagreements.

Gradually, I started noticing that it was scary to invite friends over to my house, because my parents were fighting so much. In time, I started to see a pattern between my Mom's afternoon martini's and a sudden change in behavior.

Eventually, the fights became violent and lasted into the wee hours. The violence was from my Mom. My Dad would scream back but never once touched her. Lamps, TVs, and glasses were thrown and smashed. I would crouch in my bed wishing it would go away. I was scared shitless when my Mom would come into my room and tell me she hated me and my father.

When I was 12, after a particularly brutal fight, my Mom barged into my room and told me she and my Dad were getting divorced. I lost it! I started crying my eyes out begging them not to get divorced. My Mom, in a very clinical voice, said that "divorce is hardest on the children." Eventually, my Dad told me things would be alright and that my Mom would reconsider it in the morning.

That began a vicious cycle of sleepless nights for me. Mom would get drunk in the afternoon, Dad would come home, the fighting would start, it would stop when my Mom would pass out, I would go to school and have perfect attendance.

When I became a teen, my natural development embolden me to fight with my Mom. She would always win by telling me she hated me and that she wished she would have had an abortion rather than having me. Pretty brutal. I found solace in classical music. Eventually, I'd put on headphone and turn the music up really loud--was it Mom or Brunnhilde?

Time were bad, but there were also good times. My Mom had a wonderful intellect and would spend sober hours telling me about the arts, politics, and live in generally. A large part of my very best self was due to my Mom.

My Dad found solace in work and golf. He stayed away from the house as much as possible. Monday and Thursday nights were the worst. No, it makes no sense if you haven't experienced this type of chaos, but many, many years later, I still could never phone or see my Mom on a Monday or Thursday night.

My Dad was a man's man. He was self-made and had a natural charisma that enabled him to make great friendships. He also was of the generation where men did not talk to other men about their troubles. I had never known my Dad to be inebriated. Sometimes, when the fighting would start, he would take me to the car and we'd drive around LA for hours waiting for my Mom to come home.

I still clearly remember the night (I was probably around 15) when I asked my Dad if Mom was an alcoholic. He simply said, yes. I was devastated. There was no way MY MOM could be an alcoholic!

As for me, I became a recluse. My passion was music. I hated what every other kid was listening to. I drove potential friends away because I couldn't take a friend home. What if they found out about my Mom?

Secrecy is BIG in alcoholic families, no one dares talk about it.

My senior year in high school, I was a freak. Despite that, I had a couple of guys who figured out I was weird, but they liked me anyway. A year after that, I dumped them because I found my own powerful drug--Mormonism. I was an easy mark--no alcohol. My friends talked about sex, cussed, and drank beer. They also had subscriptions to Playboy. I had to keep myself pure, so I ditched them.

Mormonism provide me with my own high. For the first time in a long time, I was special. I was chosen to hear the Gospel. My parents were fucked up. I was righteous. I was going to preach Mormonism to the world. Within a short time, my parents gladly shipped me up to BYU to get rid of my self-righteous ass.

As you know, if you read my posts, BYU was a mixed bag. I had lots of sober friends, but I could never measure up. And, I was a wanker. Hell, I still have my letterman's jacket with a big M on it!

As I matured and started working I began to question a lot of tenants of Mormonism. But, the church was true, and my feelings of uneasiness were due to my failures of the flesh.

Right before I got married, I had two serious blowouts with my parents. One time, at Christmas, I joined in on the fighting. My Dad put me on a plane and told me not to come back home. But I did. The next time, I lost it with my Mom. I pushed her away from the kitchen sinks and started pouring copious amounts of booze down the drain in front of her eyes. I also started yelling, "Fuck you and your fucking booze." My Dad stopped me and took me to a hotel and told me never to come back (which I didn't do for a long time).

Well, I can't tell you the guilt I felt being a priesthood holder who screamed obscenities at his Mom. So, I got into therapy. Truth be told, I entered therapy in my 20s and still go back when I need to.

In therapy, I learned about family systems, pyschological collusion, and role-playing. My Mom was the alcoholic, Dad was the enabler, I was the victim. I played my victim hood out by PUNISHING MYSELF FOR NATURAL REACTIONS TO THE INSANITY IN MY LIFE!!! See, I couldn't control or stop my Mom's alcohol, but i could choose to leave the scene rather than subject myself to abuse.

Later, I found that I fit the profile of an Adult Child of an Alcoholic. I'm going to copy the "laundry list."

We became isolated and afraid of people and authority figures.
We became approval seekers and lost our identity in the process.
We are frightened of angry people and any personal criticism.
We either become alcoholics, marry them or both, or find another compulsive personality such as a workaholic to fulfill our sick abandonment needs.
We live life from the viewpoint of victims and we are attracted by that weakness in our love and friendship relationships.
We have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and it is easier for us to be concerned with others rather than ourselves; this enables us not to look too closely at our own faults, etc.
We get guilt feelings when we stand up for ourselves instead of giving in to others.
We became addicted to excitement.
We confuse love and pity and tend to "love" people we can "pity" and "rescue."
We have "stuffed" our feelings from our traumatic childhoods and have lost the ability to feel or express our feelings because it hurts so much (Denial).
We judge ourselves harshly and have a very low sense of self-esteem.
We are dependent personalities who are terrified of abandonment and will do anything to hold on to a relationship in order not to experience painful abandonment feelings, which we received from living with sick people who were never there emotionally for us.
Alcoholism is a family disease; and we became para-alcoholics and took on the characteristics of that disease even though we did not pick up the drink.
Para-alcoholics are reactors rather than actors.

When I read this, I fit most of these indicators. Now an AH HA, when I was a Mormon, my drug of choice was the Mormon religion. Think of each of these as a survivor of not only alcoholism, but of a cultic religion!

In time, I finally figured out who the Boner was through being a parent, finding a proper vocation, and leaving Mormonism. These were enabled though caring and compassionate therapists, all of whom were LDS. Yes, all LDS, but not a judgmental turd in the pack.

Eventually, I would learn about bi-polarism, alcoholism, and the demons that plagued my family. Alcoholism does not have a happy ending. Eventually, there will be a rock bottom experience.

I sat with my Mom twice while she was going through the DTs. She was physically restrained because she was trying to hurt herself and the people trying to help her. She saw me and immediately started swearing at me and blaming me for doing what was happening to her. The nurses and social worker put their arms around me and led me out of the hospital room as my Mom was headed to de-tox.

Did this hurt? Yes, but, I had also discovered an essential part of me, I'm a caring and compassionate person. Also, by this time in my life I had connected with my Christian heritage and recognized that in my Mom in that bed I saw grace. Grace in that I loved my Mom more than I could ever imagine. The behaviors were unloveable, but my Mom was loved by me deeply and unconditionally. The word I use to describe this is grace.

Eventually, I forgave my Mom for the demons, but alcoholism doesn't have a happy ending. Slowly, but surely, the disease destroys. In the end, I held my Mom's hand as she passed. In my faith tradition, I made the sign of the cross on her forehead, said the Our Father, and gave her back to our creator knowing that if God exists, however one sees God, my Mom is now healed.

Many of you do not or cannot have belief in a God. I respect and understand that. What I would hope is that my post gives you hope in recovery. There are cases where the abuse is so great, one is under not obligation to forgive. I get that. But for me, my healing came through love and forgiveness even though the behaviors were hurtful and insane.

In time, I found my real self, and what a self it is! My very best wishes for you, my RfM friends for health, joy, healing, and happiness. The Boner.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 02/09/2017 08:17PM by BYU Boner.

strong post is strong ~


( srs ) ~

Thank you for this courageous, and inspiring post, Boner. I can certainly see how you were an "easy mark", as you say, for the Mormons at that point in your life.

Thanks for your story, boner. I emphasize(d) greatly with your mom, being an addict as well. I am happy that you have found happiness In a faith; in my heart of hearts it is something I want for myself, but I am afraid that it will just never happen, owing to my demons from being exposed to the Mormon church from birth until, well now. I still live in a house that is dominated by the culture of the church.

It makes me feel sick to think that I might cause the the kind of feelings that you have towards your mother- which seem complex, but overall very loving- in my parents. I imagine it might be different when the addict is a child instead of a parent, but probably not on a fundamental level.

Your story gave me a lot to think about. You came out the other end, it seems like, a better and happier person. I look for evidence of this everywhere I go, that stories of trauma, addiction, and just the chaos that life brings can result in happiness in the end. Even if you have to find that happiness in places that aren't very obvious, or are not external to the rest of the world, that's okay, and that's something that I have a really hard time dealing with. I feel like happiness isn't real unless other people can see it, because I feel like other people can't be happy unless I'm happy. I'm mostly talking about my parents. I've heard my mom say things like 'you're only as happy as your unhappiest child' too many times, I think.

I always enjoy your posts, your brand of humor- off-color, my favorite- and the liveliness you bring to this forum. You have certainly helped make RFM better, and I truly think our RFM helps people, and I think you contribute a lot to that.

Thanks for being here, and thanks again for your story.



Edited 3 time(s). Last edit at 02/09/2017 11:10PM by midwestanon.

Thanks for your post! I'd like to share something with you that I tell my own children--There is nothing you can do that would make me love you any more; there is nothing you can do that would make me love you any less. Your parents probably feel the same way, but may not be able to express that love.

I loved my Mom, even during the rough times. She gave me so much and who I am is has been due to her wisdom and love. The pain was with the bipolarity combined with alcoholism. We now know that chemical imbalances play a very crucial role in our mental health. My Mom's alcoholism was probably a desire to self-medicate. I realized that through counseling.

My biggest regret is not my relationship with my Mom. She and I had 10 years together and at the end, I was able to provide help and strength for her. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to understand my Dad.

I wanted my Dad to divorce my Mom when I was a teen. I became very angry at him for not divorcing. He also was the enabler and took my Mom's side in things to keep the peace. Shortly before he did, he and I did a lot of long talks. He told me that he was a bad father. I reassured him that he was a good father, but we had things that neither of us could control or handle. We started to re-connect. He loved her very much and felt that had he divorced, I would have been in my Mom's custody, because that's how things were back then.

The last times I visited them, he actually gave me hugs. I don't know if I ever remember him saying he loved me, but men of that generation didn't say things like that.

When he died, unexpectedly, I was devastated. As with my Mom, I loved my Dad, but he and I were polar opposites. He was an athlete, I was a musician.

If I may give a gentle suggestion, try to work with your parents to develop a loving, adult relationship now. Once they're gone, the grieving is more difficult because one grieves for lost relationship that could have been in addition to the person.

I wish the very best for you! Each one of us probably has recovery issues. I have done things in my life of which I am not proud, but I have learned to also forgive myself for my imperfections. I truly believe that our imperfections are what make us truly human. Your life experience may enable you to help or support others who may be in similar situations.

May you find peace and healing and wholeness in your family!

Thank you for your response, Boner. Someone said something in this thread or another thread, it was something to the effect of "you need to view your relationship with your parents as one of equal adults". That is my problem. Since I still live at home, through a confluence of circumstances that has partly to do with my mental health issues, my addiction issues, and my issues of being a lazy spoiled bastard, I view my parents is far more of an authority figure than a 27-year-old should have to. It has completely affected my relationship with my parents, especially my father. I still fear their disappointment and their disapproval and their anger at the choices I make, both minor and major ones. I still have to come to them for things that are ridiculous because I have such a hard time taking care of certain things, mostly financial issues. I've been looking for a job, a good job this time, with benefits and stuff like that, and despite my parents insistence that jobs like this are falling out of the sky, they are not and they are predictably hard to get for someone in my situation.

The point is, I can't come and really talk to them about this sort of thing without feeling the sting of their resentment for them having to take care of me or live in their home rent free for the past couple of years. Even if they don't bring it up, or say anything like it, I always feel like it's implied. So because of this, a relationship that should've developed- one where as I become older, more developed, and more mature, a sense of mutual respect is shared- has not.

It is as they say, arrested. Both my development, and the development of the relationship that I should have with my parents. There were times when I was on my own and doing OK and I felt like I could come to them, get advice, tell them the truth about my life - when I relapsed, when I was living with a girl, whatever it was, and they might have been angry and express their disapproval, but honestly, if I didn't like what they had to say, I could get my car and leave and go home. I haven't had that luxury in a long time.

I don't envy you the times that you had with your parents that were contentious and made it harder as a consequence of your mom's alcoholism and your dad's emotional distance. I do envy the fact that you seem to have been able to make a semblance of peace with them before they passed, whether that was just a hug with your father, or being there with your mom right before she died.

It's hard for me just to type these truths. The reality is that whether I was living at home or by myself, I hav always had an unhealthy emotional need for my parents and their acceptance. I knew I was never going to get it from them regarding religion, so I felt like I could make up for it By making better decisions in other areas of my life, and obviously that never worked out. And now it's like there's a desperate search day by day just to try to do things that make it seem like my life is just pointing in the right direction, Even if it's not obvious that I'm on a road to anywhere.

I know my parents love me. They'd do anything for if they thought it would really make me happy or healthy. There's the common therapeutic expression about parents who love their children to death, and while I'm not sure that is necessarily applicable right now, I'm afraid that it is fast moving in that direction. Not necessarily towards a literal death, but the death of whatever potential I have left that I haven't wasted, or whatever amount of ability or intellect I have left that hasn't been snuffed out through the damage I've done to myself from years of shoving narcotics in my arms.

I see my situation as unique, and in some respects it really maybe, but the truth is, I'm not that much different then the millions of other kids who are in their 20s who are living at home – listless, unfocused, and unsure about where to go in their life. Maybe my disadvantages are worse than some, maybe they're actually nowhere near as bad as I think they are. But sometimes it's not about the way things really are, it's just about how I feel they are, because ultimately you're going to make decisions most of the time based on how you feel. At least that's my experience as an addict.

Thanks again for your response, Boner. It did help. You have done your family and your children a tremendous service by allowing them to grow up unshackled by the constraints of the Mormon church. At least, that's the assumption that I have made based on this post another posts, but whatever you did, it seems like it has been good for your family.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 02/10/2017 10:55AM by midwestanon.

Have always felt a sign of maturity was to be able to see your parents as co-adults with fears, pain, unmet wishes and defense mechanisms we all exhibit....and still love them. You are clearly a mature adult..

Gatorman
9-4
19-5

When I was in my 30's, I divorced my alcoholic nevermo husband. I started going to Al Anon and therapy. At the time, I hadn't stepped foot in a mormon church for at least 15 years.

Imagine my surprise when my therapist told me I had all the same emotional issues as ACOA's. I was so confused by that. My TBM parents had never drank. No matter, they were still living like addicts due to their obsession with religion. After a year or so of ALAnon and therapy it became very clear to me why I had the issues I did.

I learned how to stand up for myself, and stand my ground. I learned to recognize when people were bullying me. I had to relearn so many things.

One of the most interesting things was how angry people would get when I changed the rules and no longer played the part i'd been assigned. All hell broke loose. I was very lucky to have a good therapist and a strong support system when that happened.I don't know if I could have handled it otherwise.

My life has changed radically since that time. There is only one person that made the cut from my past. She's a nevermo, and that's why she's still my friend. All of the mormons went their way, and i'm glad they did.

I remarried since that time, and that's a whole other story. A good story though. We're still together and almost at the 30 year mark. Life is good, but I sure did have a lot to learn over the years.

It's pretty amazing what we can learn through others who have had similar situations. I made the connection between a liquid drug (alcohol) and an emotional drug (Mormonism). Both hurt, and the addict will abandon all things for the drug of choice. Very best wishes!

What's your heritage, BYU Boner?

Central European.

I like the part when your self righteous ass was gladly shipped to BYU haha. Thanks for sharing your story boner.

And you Adam, are awesome, my friend. Yes, i'm an old fart, but I do hang around with folks a lot younger than me. Hey, I'm even listening to Death Metal and Punk! Stay strong, Bro!

Death metal and punk are the shit

I'm very sorry that you grew up in such an abusive home. My Mom was an emotional abuser. I live with my parents now, but I don't let her get away with that anymore. Our relationship has healed over the decades.

Addiction is a demon. My brother is an alcoholic and he has put my parents through hell over the years. I've watched him lose jobs and even a home, ending up living in a cheap motel with three cats, paid for by my Dad.

My Dad once found my brother sleeping outside in the snow and once the police brought him home, after finding him asleep in the middle of the road. They nearly hit him. My Dad has bailed him out so many times, financially.

I watch my parents go through so many cycles of hope, when he stops drinking, and crushing disappointment when he falls off the wagon again.

I have several alcoholics in my family, which is why my sister and I have never been drinkers. My doctor says that with genes like ours, that's a smart move.

I think that may have been a pull towards Mormonism for me. Wow, a whole group of people who don't drink either.

The main thing to know is that it was never in any way your fault, and that your Mom was the one with the problem. Not you.

Thanks Greyfort! It sounds like you have been able to establish an appropriate relationship with you Mom as an adult. That's wonderful! In time, many of us may become the adult to our parents. And although this is VERY scary, eventually, my children may need to become the adult for me. But, I'm giving it my best shot to let them know how much I love and appreciate them.

Ironically, my exiting Mormonism hadn't been an issue for them. One of my older kids even told my wife that I was a good man and that I had the right to believe or not to believe. Sometimes, they even joke with me about Mormonism! I generally make a crack back, but never put them in a spot.

I'm sorry to hear about your brother! I have empathy for him. I work with men who are incarcerated because of substance abuse. I can't talk about this too much. But, I'm glad that you're aware of the genetic disposition toward alcoholism.

Although I joke about loving beer, my limit is one. I have never been even close to being drunk. Not that I'm a righteous bastard--but there's a big difference between social drinking with friends and abusing either alcohol or religion.

My sincere hope for your brother is that he will find recovery. I once sat with a friend who was in ICU for 3 weeks due to alcoholism. He has rebuilt his life and has been sober for many many years. If I may, Greyfort, love your brother as much as possible. I know sometimes and to harder than fuck when things are bad, but I've also learned that there's a myth of free agency--sometimes we only have the allusion of choice. Addiction is, often, no choice. Very best wishes and friendship!

Very impactful, BYU Boner.
I learned a lot about forgiveness just now.
Thank you.

I'm not going to add a lot even though it's an area I have plenty of experience in and even worked professionally in the field when John Bradshaw, Timmen Cermak, Rokelle Lerner, and others were identifying the "elephant in the living room" as far as the multi-generational nature of the dysfunction.

You have said plenty, and the only bit I can offer is to repeat that the rules in such families are "Don't talk; don't trust; don't feel; and don't make waves." BTW, many LDS families have the same M.O. "Addiction to the LDS religion" is particularly toxic and shame-based. Per one authority, "Addictions are things we need to lie about."

If you want to see "ACOA psychopathology in spades," take a look at the new resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. And Joseph Smith's father was an alcoholic as well.

(I hope that last paragraph doesn't get deleted).

And thanks, Erica, for the plug for Al-Anon and other 12-Step support groups such as ACOA and CodA.

I am an ACOA too. Thanks for your very insightful post. I relate.

That is a profoundly moving and important story. There is a lot that resonated. I'd like to reply in detail but am afraid of the emotions that would arouse.

So thank you. I'll leave it at that for now.

BYU Boner, I feel that your kindness, candor, and compassion is something I need to emulate more.

Thanks for your words, my friend.

Thanks for sharing. I understand your pain. Both of my parents were achocolics. Bad fights, child neglect. Dad died at 49 of cirrosis. Mom quit drinking and for next 30 years I had a sweet loving mom. I wrote my story and let a TBM read it. She said how could you say such nice things about her? I said because she changed and put love of Jesus in her life. She read that part put TBMs gonna hate and judge. Im so sorry you lost your mom. Addiction changes people.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 02/10/2017 08:37AM by scootergirl57.

Thanks for this, Boner. I too am an ACOA (and unfortunately did get into alcohol later, although I stopped in 2002.

I'd never seen the list which you published but it is chllingly accurate with regard to my personality. Thanks for posting it.

Best wishes to you.

Tom in Paris

BYU Boner Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> In time, I found my real self, and what a self it
> is! My very best wishes for you, my RfM friends
> for health, joy, healing, and happiness. The
> Boner.

I believe a big part of this is finding out that your parents don't define who you are and only what your genetic code will be and they don't have much power over that one either.

I always empathize with people whose parents try to control them as if they owned them. I don't think your parents did that to you Boner?

To me, one of the most amazing things about the Boner is that despite the early years of fear and abuse, despite an alcoholic mom and an enabling dad, despite being sucked in by the church and then dumping it, despite being this big strong "man's man," he comes here and is sensitive, caring, *feeling,* and empathetic.

Many people would have let such a life turn them into mean, "life sucked and I hate it" jerks. It didn't happen with the Boner. Instead it gave him a deep empathy for the problems other people have, and downright contagious desire to find joy in life.

Luv ya, pal.
Thanks for existing. You make all our lives better :)

I love it when humanity shines through bigoted and egotistical conditioning people like Boner would be prone to use to prop up terrible personal problems like abusive parenting.

Doesn't even need to be humanity and love shiny through the crap of Mormonism, as any religion where this behavior is helped will do.

Your review was astounding, touching, and evoked the good in all of us. Thank you for sharing. I find myself pondering and appreciating my own journey even more and feeling compassion for all people. (Mormon's included, and that's a big one for me.)

My sister and I are children of alcoholics. It really manifested itself more and more the older we got. Apparently, it really screwed up our lies more significantly than anyone might have thought, and has framed virtually every way we interact with people, she one way, and me doing the opposite of whatever she does, due to the roles we had in the dysfunction of our family.

My father was no normal alcoholic. Yes, he lost his good job, and then a series of bad jobs, due to alcoholism. Yes, he drank us into poverty. But the damage came when he was taken away to a couple of Kern County correctional facilities in Bakersfield and near Tehachapi, locked up because of his weird need to drive on the highways after he had to crawl on his hands and knees to the car.

I should have added that I'm with you on this one, and appreciate you writing about it. So much of what you related is very familiar, so much so that it brings me back, makes me re-live the time, and gets that feeling of fear going in my own chest. But it does do me good, in a very odd way, to hear stories of others who have gone through the same. Then I don't feel like such an idiot.

Our family had a good life while it lasted, but it only lasted until I was in 7th grade. My mother, the breadwinner, would die of cancer when I was 15. I would be put into a foster home because my father was unable to care for me. Due to the direct effects of his alcoholism, my father would die the following year from a massive stroke while walking down some steps at the Kern County library in Bakersfield. He was only 60, and was a resident of a local half-way house.

LDS stake patriarch John Henry Olson did the undertaking, absorbing the costs himself, and boxed my father up in the cheapest casket we could find; it looked like an Army ammunition box. The ward paid to have him shipped off to Indiana to be buried next to my mother. If there had been friends, we might have had a funeral. But none of us had any friends anymore, another sad consequence of family alcoholism.

Thank you for sharing, Boner. Having not been raised anywhere near alcoholism, I've had a lot of ignorance when I've had friendships or relationships that involved alcoholics or children of alcoholics. I've learned some things along the way, but people like you and those who have shared here help us a lot.

thank you for sharing this. As I read your story, and these others in the comments, I realize again how lucky I am to have grown up in a somewhat loving family. My heart breaks for children who have to grow up the way you and others have.

Thanks for this post. I have always enjoyed your sense of humor here, but this gives such a vivid picture of how you got to where you are today. My mother was also an alcoholic, my Dad was very like your Dad, but in my home there was not violence, but silence. My mother was a secret drinker, hiding bottles in the closet. I was shocked when I found them as a young teen, I thought neither of my parents drank.

My Mom was a teacher and very good one, and she never drank on the job, but when she got home she would go into her room and come out more and more incoherent.It took years for my father to admit she drank, when I said something as a teen his reaction was "don't talk that way about your mother." Lots of denial. Both depression and alcoholism run on both sides of my family, Polish and Irish, my parents also were first generation of immigrant parents, so your story really resonates with me. So much was about appearances, and shame, and talking about the problem was worse than the problem itself. My parents never fought, but my dad would go out and work in the yard or play golf and my mother would sit in her room and drink. Nobody ever talked about feelings. My parents loved me and there was no abuse, but I never felt like they knew me, or I them. We were all playing a role, whether it fit or not.

Drinking a lot makes me sick so I never became an alcoholic, but depression has haunted me most of my life. My brother had problems with both drinking and pain meds. Many of the attributes in your ACOA list fit me, especially the extreme fear of abandonment and lack of self-esteem. I am finally trying to work through some of this with both therapy and medication. Again, thanks for telling your story, and I hope mine helps some others in similar situation, even though I am a nevermo.

Boner, so appreciate your sharing your story.

I also am a child from an alcoholic affected family. My father was an alcoholic while my mother was the depressed, self-righteous enabler.

Mormonism, through my friends, become my drug of choice. With Mormonism I became SEEN, chosen, saved and could find everlasting happiness through the promises it brought into my life. Also, I wanted nothing to do with alcohol, and the MormonCult backed me up on this teen choice.

As my journey continued, depression hit me and I had NO idea why, what the hell was going on, and just felt extreme shame and guilt. Why, I had a temple marriage after all, I was a busy mother chosen to raise children in Zion! And, as voiced by many in my church, whatever did I have to be depressed about? Just get over yourself!

Trained caring mental health professionals, learning about alcoholism and attending AlAnon, plus attending the university in which I could learn to think critically gave me the tools I needed to begin to heal from being emotionally abused. (I am so very grateful for the knowledge, peace, and freedom each brought into my life).

Each and every day still offers challenges in my life because of my past from being a child affected by alcohoism, enabalism , and mormonism because they indoctrinate in you that you are not worthy to talk, think, or feel. You are the slave and the ghost in the room.

The answer to healing from this indoctrinating, terrifying cylce truly lies in education. Thank you again, Boner for sharing and helping with educating others. This is how amazing change does occur.

BYU Boner!

Are you sure you are not talking about my life? There are so many striking parallels, except it was my father and step-father who were alcoholics. My mother married two different alcoholics. Interesting pathology.

As to alcohol, I can take it or leave it.

Thanks for sharing. Sorry for what you've been through.

We never had alcohol in our home, but I've seen several of the symptoms of children of alcoholic parents that you list in my family and in myself. I attribute them to a culture of extreme control, of perfectionism, of denying real feelings and learning to stuff them.