The Sins Of The Mother

Attitude-1

As it is written: The sins of the father shall be passed to the son. What about the sins of the mother?

I’ve had an issue with alcohol since age 9. I’m 48 now, and have had many years of sobriety between then and now, of course. Especially when the boys were growing up. Yet, my youngest son, (who also started experimenting with drugs and alcohol around the age of 9), is, at 24, a fullblown alcoholic. Actually, he has been a fullblown alcoholic for years. I was just so happy he stopped with the dope I guess it was easy to ignore the booze. It wasn’t up to me at that point, anyway, since he was an adult.

I haven’t spoken to Youngest one time in the last month that he hasn’t either been drunk or just getting over a drunk. He is living in our old house with three or four of his friends. Only his girlfriend works, as far as I know. She’s a dozen years older than him. They used to date back when he was 16 and she was 28. I wanted to snatch her bald, I swear. I knew they had rekindled their friendship recently, but only just found out they were dating again. This time, initially, I was relieved, because I thought she might sort of guide him in a way I couldn’t. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that she’s as sick as he is now. I told him this week that he and his friends need to get the Hell out asap. He is at the point now where he is ignoring court orders to find work and pay his child support, which starts at the end of this month.

It must seem as though I’m kicking him when he’s down, but he’s a grown man and I’m not going to stand by while he puts booze above his son…my grandson. Exish and I already don’t get to see our grandson. To think that our own son would give T’s mom the power to take him away forever because my our son can’t stay sober long enough to get serious about life…it makes me want to vomit.  I know how it feels to be a kid and play second fiddle to a bottle. It fucking sucks.

And I don’t believe it’s a disease. It’s a missing piece issue. I explained it to him. Some people, like me, eat. Some people take drugs…drink. We aren’t all born with that thing inside that soothes us when we need it. That’s fucking life. Pick something that doesn’t lay to waste everything in its path for crying out loud.

The hypocrisy in this is that I’ve started drinking again. I used to get shit faced two or three times a year. Now, it’s a month. And I do drink daily. Just a lil sip throughout the day. But guess what? My kids are grown. I am responsible for myself. And I don’t have any illusions about what’s at the bottom of that fucking bottle. It’s not a magic elixir to me. It just takes the edge off of being in the house with a man who seems to fucking hate me. And I raised my boys much differently than I was raised. They never walked into a drunken fight between their parents. They never had to go to sleep in the back room of a bar because I wasn’t ready to go home yet. They never had to deal with a hundred bad things that happen to children of drunks. Never. And I’d have killed anyone who exposed them to those things. Why things have happened the way they did with Youngest, in my opinion, is largely due to ADHD drugs that the school forced us to put him on. I also think genetics plays a role. But neither is an excuse for him to be so derelict in his parental responsibilities.

Done.

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