It Is That Day of the Month

A talk I have given on don't talk, don't trust and don't feel

Finding my voice

It was a choice

Finding what was lost

And at what cost

~

Don't talk

I would squawk

Ask questions

not allowed sessions

making the decision

to allow the question

~

"Why is he bleeding?"

Answer was, he was pleading

with his wife, not a bad

person, just sick of the lad

for drinking and drugs

and no more hugs

~

She stabbed him and then

He heard me and said,

"Your mom is right, when

that happened, I went to bed

and now I have the reminder

to carry to stay sober"

~

Telling that was hard as never

was that said, growing up not ever.

I learned to tell the truth only

and to answer questions mostly.

When it was hard, I sent

them to stepdad who didn't

grow up with those family rules

He had the tools

I wasn't given, but was learning

Even when they were burning

in me

you see.

~

One day at a birthday party for my daughter

a little girl asked her, where was her father

She calmly said, "He is in jail for a DWI."

I couldn't breath in the other room hearing why

but they moved on with the party that

February. I knew that rule was broken and the cat

was out of the bag and that was okay

It was a great day.

~~

Author's note: Other alcoholic family rules that were broken were:

Do not trust. My job to break that rule was to not make promises that I couldn't keep. It was as simple as that most of the time. And to tell the truth. Growing up my mother would say, tell the truth, and the next minute she was telling me to answer the phone and to say she was not home.

Do not feel. The new rule in my house was that feelings are okay. There can be consequences for telling your mother you hate them, however. Like go to your room and we will talk about that in the morning. And we did. Feelings aren't good or bad they just are. No crime. Not always sure I was loved, as I had few rules, and was allowed to roam.

Growing up, there were not many feelings that were okay. If we were having fun, laughing and playing, "Someone is going to get hurt." If someone was crying, "You are a big girl now." or "I'll give you something to cry about." Never an okay feeling no matter what it was. I got to recovery never smiling or laughing or crying.

Breaking the alcoholic family rules were very good for me and for my children. Recovery is good, with the smiling and laughing starting soon after in 1978, and I cried for six months straight, mostly at a meeting.