Being a Mom in Recovery

 

This particular blog is for moms in recovery. I think that often the job of parenting can be an enormous threat to one’s level of serenity. I know its true for me.

BEING A MOM IN RECOVERY

I wish I could write for both the dad and the mom in recovery, but I can only write what I know about. And what I know is this- its hard. Its exactly what they say- the toughest job you’ll ever love. My identity, first and foremost, is that of Mom. Even in my using days, I would have said this was true- but it wouldn’t have been as true as I thought. That is one of the scariest things about being an addict or alcoholic parent; we think we are doing a good job.

Apparently I said and did some weird things when I was drinking around my kids. I had somehow fooled myself into thinking that I didn’t actually drink around them- I would never keep a glass or bottle handy, but would keep it in the kitchen and nip in there for sips. (I use the term ‘sips’ loosely here) I thought they didn’t know, and i didn’t realize how odd I would behave. Mind you, I kept my epic drinking to nights when they were at their dad’s, or at least if their dad was around so I wouldn’t be the only responsible adult and could therefore drink with impunity. When it was only me and the kids, I kept it to wine, or champagne at the holidays. And because of this logic, I felt mindful and responsible, not really seeing there was a problem.

My kids now tell me of episodes in the last year of my drinking of them fighting over the remote and me taking it and throwing it off our third floor balcony. Or, yet another occasion I don’t recall, my daughter (7 at the time) asked if I loved her, and I said, “No, I only love black people.” Well I do love people of all color, but I love she and her sister most of all, and for years she really thought that I preferred all black people to her.  Or the time I told them I wanted to kill myself, and they were to scared to stay with me, and too scared to leave. I fell down the stairs that night, and they chose to go with their dad, who conveniently lived in the same apartment building, completely distraught that they might not be there to stop me if I chose to hurt myself.

It was the night that I was watching Running With Scissors that I heard the voice that told me to go to a meeting. In the movie, Annette Benning’s character thinks she is an amazing and attentive mom because she is able to say Mom appropriate things, even in the midst of a glassy eyed drug stupor, things like “did you do your homework?” or, “Are you eating? I worry about you, you know.” Upon satisfying her motherly duties she shrank back into her drug trance, smugly feeling that was a sufficient display of Motherly interest.

I was aware enough at that moment (in spite of xanax and vodka earlier in the evening) to be both appalled and scared. I put on my shoes to run to the liquor store, and a voice told me to take them off and sit down. It said I was going to wake up in the morning and go to that AA meeting at the church up the street. It wasn’t the voice I usually hear in my head, the one that is my inside voice, but one i had never heard before. I listened to it, and did exactly what it said to do.  That voice saved my life. I have been sober ever since.

It took a while to see the veil of uncertainty leave the eyes of my kids. I was not a violent or mean drunk, but I was weird and unpredictable and frightening, and they had learned to expect the unexpected. But I remember when their eyes cleared and I could see that they had chosen to trust that I was really on a different path and that they could count on it; and more importantly, count on ME. Now, the greatest gift I could give my kids is not only my sobriety, but being able to give them an example of how a woman lives by principles. I am their blueprint- they have been witness to me hitting a serious bottom on many levels, but they also have witnessed the transformation back into a useful member of society. There are enough bad examples in the media of how women behave these days; the best thing I can do is to show them is how to be strong, loving, independent, kind, attentive, capable, and sober.

If you are a mom in recovery, my hat is off to you. You have chosen a path that will alter the lives of your children in ways you will never be able to quantify. If you ever feel yourself faltering, just remember that parenting is truly, as they say, ‘the toughest job you’ll ever love.” Some days you won’t love it. Some days you will question yourself and want to slam your head into a wall. I understand this. Parenting can be a real threat to your serenity, as much as it can be the most complete joy you’ve ever experienced. Find other sober moms to talk to, to talk you through it, to talk you off the ledge, and for whom you can do the same. It is what has saved me and continues to do so- just one other sober mom saying, “I get it. I totally do. Now say the acceptance prayer!” We save lives around here- our own, our children’s, and each other. Its a beautiful, beautiful thing.