How I lived in my family of addiction
In a horror movie, no eyes generally means a serial killer is on the loose, or perhaps Jeepers Creepers 3 is being made (remember that one?).
In business, it might mean we’re dealing with a cold, hardened executive who has seen enough conmen and women to last his or her lifetime.
In my family of addiction, hollow eyes meant dad was gone to the liquid amber seduction of alcohol, and mom was numb, entering into her codependent life.
In Fire Heart, novel 2 of the Broken Bottles series, we see a woman who has come of age, struggling to learn self-trust and make intimate relationships. Her eyes become hollow when someone is making promises.
Why?
Long stretches of empty promises
Why?
Because, at least for me, when promises were made by people who were supposed to love me and keep me safe—my parents—they were broken.
- Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up on time
- I’ll be sober on Christmas
- Maybe we’ll have a party this year for your sixteenth birthday
- Maybe we’ll do something this weekend
- I won’t drive drunk
Did you hear some of the same things?
My father, who was drunk, and could barely walk, drove my sister and me home from the bar.
Mom seemed to love us, but never said it. It took her years to quit her night job—a job she loved—to make sure we weren’t left alone with our father, who not only drank, but had a friend bring the bottle.
My eyes became hollow to avoid hope.
If my parents couldn’t keep me safe and love me, why would anyone else?
How did I learn to forgive them?
I learned about the generations before them who took out their disease on my parents. They couldn’t break the chains, but I was determined.
Will Nicky Young, the heroine of Fire Heart break them?
Will you?
#DaretobeVulnerable
Will you please comment on my blog? I’d love to get feedback!
MAR
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