Well, it is obvious that it has been a long time since I posted. 2014 was a very busy year and for a single mom with two teenage sons, it got a little crazy. In many ways that is not a bad thing; it means that life is returning to "normal". There are still flashbacks and my oldest son requested to go back into therapy again; he was fine and then suddenly he wasn't so I am fortunate that a great new therapist was right there when he was needed.
I have a friend from college who was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer and had to immediately have a double mastectomy. After several weeks of Facebook silence she posted again saying that she was now needing to "do less reading in the breast cancer survivor blog community" and could return more to her typical social media pursuits. She needed that community and then she needed that community just a little less....
Because we - the survivors of our alcoholics and other persons with substance abuse "issues" - sometimes need our community a little bit more and then maybe a little bit less.....
Back to blogging - this is an entry that I was planning to write in late October during the typical American High School Football "Homecoming Season". This was my oldest son's first high school Homecoming and as he is a "football star" on the district-winning freshman team, it was kind of a big deal for him. In the South and especially in MY state, Homecoming takes on mythic proportions. Let's just say that there was a big game, and a pretty girl with a mum (Google "Texas Homecoming Mums" to see what I mean) and a dance.
Those of us who live with and/or lived with alcoholics and other substance abusers know that eventually "homecomings" become fraught with tension, anxiety and peril. Hubby towards the end spent all of his time in the garage and as I would pull up in the driveway with the boys, the three of us would speculate aloud as to whether we were coming home to "good Dad" or "bad Dad". "Good Dad" would look up from his garage desk and smile and say, "Hey, how's it going?". "Bad Dad" would just either frown and grunt or immediately spout out something dreadful like, "Munchie (the cat)threw up on the kitchen floor again; I was tempted to shoot her." If we saw that it was going to be "Good Dad", we would all audibly breathe a sigh of relief. Signs of "Bad Dad" just brought sighs of misery. One day my oldest son came home from school with his friends and "Bad Dad" was sitting in a puddle of his urine crying...is it any wonder the poor boy needs therapy?
Sometimes Hubby would be passed out in the bedroom. We would all tip toe around so as not to wake him and so as to enjoy the quiet peacefulness of it almost being like he wasn't there at all.....
I wish "Good Dad" (or "Good Mom" or "Good Son" or "Good Sister") homecomings for all of you in 2015. But when they are not good homecomings, I wish for you that you have the strength to endure. And maybe, just maybe it might be time to think about the quiet peacefulness of them not being there at all....
Get out if you need to get out; stay in if your heart and head tells you to stay in.....nothing to be ashamed of or feel badly about... Either way, I am thinking of you all and hope that you use our community when you need it and that someday you may need it just a little less....
