Dechipering it all…
In 2020, my 10-year marriage ended explosively. My husband had a drinking problem which I struggled to ‘manage’. And amidst the breakdown of my marriage, I was forced to confront my past and how this had impacted so many aspects of my adult life.
When I was aged 10 – and my elder brothers, 14 and 17 at that time – my mother remarried. Very soon after my mum remarried, she fell pregnant. And very soon after that (when I was 11), my half-brother was born, and soon after, it started to become evident my step-father had a drinking problem; which basically worsened gradually over the course of the next 15 years until he and my mother eventually divorced.
As a child, evenings and weekends were always punctuated by my stepfather’s drinking, sometimes as early as 11am during the school holidays. I remember evenings where simple things like, playing a board game as a family (instigated no doubt by my mother, attempting to create some normalcy) would end with my stepfather falling off a chair, soiling himself, or more so as the years went on, blazing rows between my stepfather and my mother that would ensue and go on for hours. Frightened, I would often creep into my brother’s bedroom and sleep in there with him as the war played out downstairs below us.
As I became a teenager, increasingly, I was seldom at home, opting to hang out at friends’ houses instead. (I never brought my friends to my house. I was too ashamed. But I never really communicated my shame to my friends in any real way – other than conveying my ‘dislike’ for my stepdad – as I don’t think I understood or could articulate my feelings myself at that age). Unhappy at home, I did begin to act out – experimenting heavily with alcohol myself, staying out late, and generally engaging in rebellious behaviours; as well underperforming at school. I never seemed to be reprimanded for this behaviour by my mother; who I think was just very wrapped up in whatever she was feeling herself at the time. I do recall aged 15, my mum had recently found out I’d been smoking cigarettes. (I was not punished by mum at all – she merely requested I not stub my fags out on the window ledge outside my bedroom window). I returned home from a friends house late’ish one evening. My stepfather, who had been drinking, accosted me and began bellowing at me about my smoking. He physically blocked me and wouldn’t let me go upstairs to my bedroom, so I ended up hiding out for the night in the downstairs toilet with the door locked, whilst his tirade continued just outside; banging on the door, calling me names etc. Mum never intervened.
There were countless other examples of this sort of exchange… too many to mention. The result was, feeling very lonely, detached from the home and a hostility and distance which sadly developed between myself and my mother; loss of connection & fear of speaking up. My older brothers moved out as soon as they each turned 18, and went to live with our Dad – though I would see them all as regularly as mum would allow (usually, every other weekend). But it was effectively then just me, and my little half-brother – 11 years my junior – in the house with our mum and my stepdad. I developed an eating disorder, aged 15 – a physical control mechanism when I was unable to affect any control or positive change in the ‘family home’ – and this would continue for almost 3 years, until my Dad intervened, sought me medical help and therapy through my school counselling service.
Life moved on. I went to University, found some sense of ‘freedom’, nourished myself, had some fun. But struggled to focus academically. And when Uni ended, after unsuccessful efforts to secure a job in London, I ended up moving back ‘home’. And nothing had changed. I quickly upped and left my mum and stepdads house, and moved in with my Dad (my brothers by this time had moved elsewhere) and I lived with Dad for about a year until I found my own place to rent. I was, however, deeply unhappy. I had a series of inappropriate relationships into my early adulthood – with boyfriends who would treat me badly, cheat on me; relationships that revolved largely around hedonism, partying, getting wasted. I spent a lot of time flitting around from job to job, a little directionless, trying to find a place I belonged. As I approached my late-20s, I eventually met my husband in 2008, and he was a good man – treated me well. And I loved him for that.
However, as time went on, and our lives changed – settling down, moving house, forging careers, having adventures – it became apparent my husband too, did have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. I would often end up being “caretaker” on nights out, and he would often blackout, fall asleep in alley ways, pass out on the hallway floor…
It was all-too familiar behaviour.
And I…ignored it? Or rather, on some level, it felt SO familiar that I thought I could ‘cope’ with it. And I never spoke to my friends about how bad or how concerning it really was “behind closed doors”; that learned and deep-ingrained sense of shame that I had felt as a teenager, replaying all over again. The fear of speaking out. So familiar but unsettling.
I did attempt to talk to my husband a few times about my concerns, but it largely fell on deaf ears. I convinced myself that there was so much other “good stuff” in our marriage, that “this”/the drinking was the one ‘compromise’. I blamed myself sometimes for what felt like my enabling of his behaviours.
Alas, the 2020 summer of lockdown when the covid rules were relaxed for those few months, my husband got so drunk one night, it ended in his infidelity in our home which I witnessed.
I have spent the last five years rebuilding my life. I sought therapy, found a new job, moved counties, started all over again. And have spent a LOT of time, reflecting on the recent past, and the past of my childhood – how the two seem to be inextricably interconnected. The learned behaviours that impacted my perspectives, not being able to fully recognise what was ‘healthy’ in a relationship, and that sense of ‘responsibility’ and burden for the behaviours and actions of others – and I see now, I always found it very difficult to draw boundaries throughout my life – because I never saw such boundaries being drawn as a child. I carried that guilt with me for a long time – the feeling that I should/could always have done more. It takes a long time to shift those feelings of guilt.
I have felt ‘responsible’ and ‘guilty’ for as long as I can remember; particularly, feeling guilty for the distance between my mother and myself (when my truth is that, it never really felt like she was there for me or my brothers, and rather more consumed with how my stepfathers drinking, and that home/their life impacted HER; ans she subsequently went into her own shell and couldn’t “be there” for us. It sometimes felt like she wanted to keep us around her so that SHE felt safe. But we were children. And it was not our role to keep her safe. We have, to this day, never been able to speak about “what happened” during those years – the drinking, the verbal abuse, my eating disorder, the distance between us… My mother carries her own weight of shame, I’m sure.)
Now 43, I finally feel like there is a new beginning possible for me. That is not to say, I have it all figured out!! Because I absolutely don’t. But through therapy, reflection, and giving myself some space, I am finally able to talk about these things with a greater clarity than I’ve had before…
I am so glad to have found the Nacoa community – a safe space for people to share their experiences and to support one another. Because ultimately, these things – the grief, the shame, the guilt we have carried – together, I hope we can redefine them, and find some peace.
Hi,
Thank you for sharing this on the messageboards. And for sharing so much of your story with us too. It takes huge bravery to speak out and share. I know there are so many who will relate and understand with some of the themes that you’ve shared.
I can really hear the work you’ve put into understanding your experiences growing up and then in the adult world. And the empathy and care in your words when you speak about yourself as a child. There can be so much healing in that, if we can hold ourselves as children.
You are right! It does sound a new beginning is possible for you -- and has started a;ready. I really relate to what you say about not having it all figured out although, it sounds you’ve developed tremendous resilience, clarity, reflection and empathy to help you navigate the things that are less clear.
It’s so positive to hear that the Nacoa community has been beneficial to you. In your new beginning I hope that it can be a harbour for you to find some shelter when things are stormy or to return to with stories of how things are.
Please remember that you can always call or email the Nacoa helpline too. for one to one support.
Kindest Wishes,
Listener