How to help an adolescent cope with her parent's addiction

Healing is a cyclic ongoing process. During meditation today, I was surprised to note some feelings of resentment come up for my extended family when I was growing up. A specific uncle came to mind. He was always my favorite. He and his wife tended to avoid our sick family like the plague. And who could blame them?

But we'd see them occasionally, and he was funny, and fun, and I loved him and no...there is no way he could have ever saved me or my sibs from the experience we were having but here's what he could have done, had he known what to do. He could have taken me aside and said this:

"What you are going through right now, with your father's drinking and the poverty and the filth, is not your fault. It isn't okay. It sucks and you shouldn't have to deal with it. You deserve every good thing and it breaks my heart that you are living this way and I wish I could fix it, but I can't." 

He could have gone on to say,

"What you need to know is this isn't you.  You are better than this. You are not going to live like this forever. I see strength in you. I see your good loving heart. You are going to make it. You are going to excel. You are going to fly. I know this about you. I see it." 

It would have taken two minutes to have that conversation. 

Words are powerful things. 

It would have meant the world.

Coming Down the Mountain and Women on Writing: Nice words about Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar

It was so nice to stumble upon this blog post at Coming Down the Mountain:A Writer's Blog! Karen Gowen, writer of said post runs a website called celerytree.com, a gathering place for self-published authors to market and sell their books. I put Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar up on Karen's site a couple of months back, because I thought she offered a really nice opportunity for independently published authors to support one another. She didn't tell me about her post, I came across it when I mumble googled myself. Yes, I googled myself. There I said it. Don't act like you've never done it. It's a perfectly natural thing to do. And technically I didn't google myself, I googled my book.

I was also recently featured along with three other writers in an article by Chynna Laird for Women on Writing. It is about taboo topics. Chynna is a prolific writer and a survivor, and an amazing special needs mom. She blew the lid off of taboo topics with her own brave memoir, White Elephants. She tells her story with such grace and understanding for her mother who was mentally ill, and subsequently very abusive. I really recommend her book. The scene that is coming to me now is of a loving aunt, who took her in and loved her, and no doubt changed the way she looked at herself and the trajectory of her life.



Those of us who have survived childhood trauma know how important these people are. The ones who offer a leg up. The ones who see something of value in us, even if shame keeps us from seeing it in ourselves.

I just love writers supporting other writers in telling their stories. Thank you Karen. Thank you Chynna.

And thank you to my Grandmother Doris Wilson, who by being thrilled every time I walked in the door as a child, led me to believe I might be lovable and good.

Reading at Mac's Backs

My first ever reading was at Mac's Backs on Jan 28th. It was a whirlwind for me which you can read about here. It was a wonderful evening, which was great, and then I kind of bottomed out the next day, feeling vulnerable and exposed. I guess it's all part of the process of writing memoir, especially memoir which deals with family secrets and dysfunction. I can't help but think it must be a completely different thing to write fiction.

I am so appreciative to everyone who turned out for the event.

I'll remember it forever.

Appreciating Suzanne Somers

When I was in high school, an adult child of an alcoholic came and spoke to our health class. She was polished. She was professional. She wore a business suit. She spoke eloquently, and shared her personal story.

What she said touched on something so painful and raw inside me. I remember holding my breath, lest someone see I was about to cry. I remember putting on my very best poker face. I remember wanting to thank her for helping me not feel so alone but I didn't, because then everyone would know.

My whole life was about not letting anyone know.

I lived in a chronic state of shame.

If only I were more lovable. Smarter. Prettier. Perfect. I might be able to change the sickness wreaking havoc on my family.

Then came Suzanne Somers. She'd been a huge star on the television show Three's Company and followed that success by writing a book called Keeping Secrets. In it, she shared her own story about growing up in the shadow of her father's alcoholism. It was probably the first memoir I ever read. It wasn't a literary masterpiece, and it didn't matter. It was honest. It was helpful.

It put a huge dent in the stigma I felt.

I hope to do the same for others with my memoir, Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar.

Years later, as the mother of a child on the autism spectrum, I continue to be inspired by Suzanne Somers. She questions doctors and takes her health care into her own hands. I have had to do that for my child, and I do believe we kids of alcoholics often become strong this way.

We learned early to question authority, because the parental authority in our homes was questionable. We developed very good intuition, and if something is amiss, we smell it a mile away. We don't wait for our doctors to look out for us. We look out for ourselves, and using professionals for their services, we remain the authority.

Some people have never been able to accept how Chrissy on Three's Company turned out to be the brains of the operation. Say what you will about her Thigh Master, Home Shopping Network, etc. She is a smart, solid business woman with her own empire. As people make fun of her, she's laughing all the way to the bank.

And she's been happily married for over three decades. So there.

Like Keeping Secrets, Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar is not a literary masterpiece. I didn't write it to impress the critics. I wrote it for you. For anyone who has ever felt they had to hide what's going on in their family.

If you've been blessed to have a life where you were treated like the precious child you were, I am truly happy for you (and I still think you might glean plenty from my story).

If you were not treated with the respect every human child deserves, I hope you'll read Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar. Together, may we leave behind our shame.

* Buy Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar as an e-book here.

It is also available in paperback on Amazon.

If you are a dealing with a loved one's alcoholism and looking for support contact, Al-anon, Alateen or Women for Sobriety.