Proof

The Holiday season can bring up many ghosts. And this year … well, it has been surreal. And time home and full of quiet reflection can open the door to all the things that haunt us.

For me, I have found myself haunted at night by dreams that involve the boys dad. I am never able to quite remember all of my dreams but the flashes I do recall … well they twist up my stomach.

The past couple of months I have had sporadic and upsetting encounters with him. When the phone rings I brace myself … unsure of the mood I am about to encounter.

The thing about addiction that is hard to wrap your mind around is that it is also generally accompanied by a mental health issue. Manic depression … bipolar …. that drink is what helps them escape or feel normal and even once sobered … those issues do not go away.

Trying to navigate understanding what exactly you hear or see can be mind boggling. Is it a relapse? Is it a mental health issue rearing it’s head?

Proof. Did you know that the proof of an alcoholic beverage is two times alcohol by volume? So 45% by volume is actually 90 proof. Or 100 proof is 50% pure alcohol? Spirits are generally 100% or higher. Back 100 years or more there was only 1.82% in alcohol. Only 1.82!

Anyway … T drank 100 proof liters – one liter in about a 24 hour period. Most people would die. But to the seasoned alcoholic … they work their way up. And this had become his normal.

So when outbursts arrive that remind me of those days … well of course it triggers me.

Knowing my boundaries have been pushed, knowing T is generally mad at me for not giving him his way when he is giving me pause to question sobriety, knowing he triggers me … A friend suggested that I should write him a letter without the intent of actually giving it to him to air out my grievances, my hurts, my triggers …

I have to tell you that I keep sitting down to do so and just stare blankly. Where do I begin?

As much as I have shared in this blog, there is so much I have never said aloud. I have shame for allowing things to happen. I have hurt and genuine moments that were abusive. I have anger over what I tolerated. I have disappointment in myself as a mom for staying as long as I did and tolerating what I did.

I know this letter is a challenge I have to conquer. Maybe it will take months to do so. And that is ok.

For now, I have to investigate why I again realize I am tolerating his toxicity. Why am I allowing it? He is their dad and I owe him … what?

Nothing. I owe him nothing. I do know this to be true.

I recently was faced with the proof of what I feared. And once faced with it … I know these things to be true:

Just because it is Christmas time does not mean you owe anyone anything. You do what you and your family need and want. No excuses or apologies. Just do you.

When in doubt about my gut instincts … I need to trust my gut instincts. I am almost always right.

What I realize I tolerate is actually me allowing a boundary to be pushed.

I do not have to engage. I do not have to answer or explain.

I do not have to be at his beckon call and the anger directed at me and the boys when we are not is nothing short of disrespect of my own boundaries.

So now what?

I will protect my kids. I will protect myself. I will hold on to boundaries without apology.

And maybe one day he will thank me for being a good mom to our children and doing what they needed to be done.

We all need to remember that we own no one anymore respect that they do (or do not) show us. Toxic love is their dysfunction, not ours. And if that person is happy with us? Odds are we gave up one of our own boundaries.

Don’t. Stay strong and do what you NEED to be safe, centered, calm, and balanced.