Are You a Rubber Band Man…or Woman?

Let’s talk about resiliency.  How do some members in a family repeat the cycle of addiction — or worse — while others appear unscathed by the dysfunctional family of origin?  Honestly, I have no idea.

I’m sure it has something to do with resiliency, but that doesn’t answer the question of “how.”  How does one person become overwhelmed by trauma that another person seems to take in stride?  How do some people in a family end up in institutions for criminals while others end up in institutions for learning?  (OK, I’m not assuming that ALL inmates are chemically addicted, though that percentage is quite high — about 85%.  And I’m not assuming no teachers are substance abusers.  I’m sure they are, at about the same rate as the general population — about 10%.)

So, how does that happen?  I wish I had the answer because, if I did, I would be able to single-handedly end the cycle of substance abuse.  Sadly, I don’t.  I DO know a few things about resiliency and the cycle of addiction:

First, if there is a history of chemical dependency in your family you shouldn’t drink.  EVER.  If one parent is alcoholic, the child is 50% more likely to inherit the genetic components of addiction according to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism.  Why risk it?

Resilience is a person’s ability to meet challenges and bounce back after them.  Growing up in dysfunction tests everyone’s resilience, which everyone has, but some people don’t recognize.

Following are some tips from “HumanPrioritiesorg” for increasing resilience, which will make getting back into balance easier and safer and make your life and relationships easier:

• Spend time with people you trust and care about, people who understand, love and respect you as you are.
• Whenever possible, schedule activities so that you can go back and forth between moderate stress and rest rather than pushing yourself to get everything done at once.
• Consider your physical body, and breathe deeply, eat healthily, get enough sleep, stretch gently, do physical activity.  Also, avoid too much caffeine, sugar or alcohol; avoid all street drugs; and use prescription and over-the-counter (OTC) medications only as directed.
• Be present:  notice people, objects, sights, sounds, smells, tastes, feelings and other physical sensations right here and now, as often as you can.  Then, observe your experiences – without trying to change them.
• Live an attitude of gratitude:  think about positive experiences and things you’re grateful for, and question your negative or self-destructive thoughts, considering that there might be another way of looking at things.
• Understand that you CAN tolerate uncomfortable emotions, and either do something about the situation or wait the feeling out.
• Enjoy something creative, either something you create or something someone else created:  music, arts, writing, crafts.
• Participate in positive rituals – a pleasant morning routine, a religious service, a culture-specific tradition.   In dysfunctional relationships, this is typically the first area we lose in our lives.
• Direct time and attention toward your spiritual and religious beliefs or practices.

For more information on resiliency, please go to the “Resilience, Stress, and Trauma” page of the HumanPrioritiesorg website:  https://sites.google.com/site/humanprioritiesorg/home/resilience-stress-and-trauma

Pamela Woll, MA, CADP, is a Chicago-based author and consultant whose work has laid the basis for our understanding on resilience and trauma.  Her website has great resources, so please check it out!

Whose Job Is It, Anyway?

We children of addiction are responsible.  Or not.  I am one of the ones who is.  Because I grew up in an environment where, “We’ll see,” meant “Never,” and “Yes, we’ll do that,” too often meant, “In your dreams,” I became the person who always stuck to her word.  If I say I will do something, I will.  I can be trusted to follow through on all my responsibilities, and I’ve even been known to take responsibility for things that I have nothing to do with.

Children of dysfunction don’t see shades of gray, so it’s sometimes difficult to see where my responsibility ends and someone else’s begins.  Far too often I’ve felt responsible for the entire world, so I’ve had to work at recognizing where my responsibility ends and others’ begins…whether or not they want to be held accountable.

 

I worked my way through college as a waitress at a local fine dining establishment.  My fellow waitresses were all great employees, and we all put in 110%…and there was a reason behind that.  I remember a conversation with my waitress friend JL:  as we ticked off all the other servers, we discovered that each and every one of us had dysfunction in her past.  I’m not a person who believes we all need therapy, and I don’t think that everyone has some form of mental illness.  However, I do think that growing up in dysfunctional environments changes us, and I believe my co-workers and I were testimony to that.

Unfortunately, sometimes it changes us for bad; people who grow up in dysfunction may also become dysfunctional.  I like to think I successfully averted that pothole.  There are times when I have to draw the line at what I will take responsibility for, so as not to cross over into codependency:  just because you don’t want to do your work doesn’t mean I’ll do it for you; just because you aren’t capable of speaking your mind doesn’t mean I should speak it for you.  These were hard lessons I learned, but, overall, I did learn them.

I still don’t want to be perceived as inadequate by anyone, but I now realize that others’ definitions of my inadequacies don’t define me.  I don’t have to be perfect, thank God, but I do have to do my best.  And I’m OK with that.

A Matter of Trust

To say that a child of addiction or dysfunction has trust issues might be a bit of an understatement.  OK, who am I kidding?  It’s likely the understatement of the decade.  Children of addiction don’t know whom to trust because everyone in their lives has proven to be untrustworthy.  I know that sounds like an overreaching statement, but let me explain:  my father was an alcoholic; he wasn’t abusive to my mother or us children, at least not in the sense of what I’ve come to believe is abusive.  (Yes, I know it seems as though I’m qualifying, but that’s a topic for another blog!)  He was a decent man who had a disease, and that disease consumed our lives.

Dad couldn’t be the parent he wanted to be, and he wasn’t a trustworthy parent.  I couldn’t depend on him to be a father, to do all those things a father is supposed to do:  take us on trips, bring home the paycheck, ummm, well, you get the picture.  I’m really not sure what a good dad was supposed to do because it just never happened.  The disease of alcoholism took its toll on any semblance of normalcy.  Even when he wanted to be a good parent, the disease held him back.  In fact, I remember a time when he had to watch his five-year-old grandson, AV, and the boy asked, “Are you sure Grandpa knows what time I go to school?”  That’s what life was like with Dad – even five-year-olds were worried!

And then there was Mom:  she worked and worked and worked.  And she probably wasn’t the most patient parent in the world.  But she had a lot on her plate, so she couldn’t always be a great mom.  In my youth I also wondered why she didn’t divorce Dad because I figured our lives would be easier without him, and so I didn’t trust her because I didn’t think she could make good decisions for us.

So, the two people in the world a child should be able to trust implicitly became untrustworthy.  What’s a girl to do?

Well, this “girl” learned to communicate.  I first learned how to write my feelings out, just to myself in the beginning.  Then I learned to write to others.  Next I learned to expect a response – if only in writing – because I knew that I deserved one.  And, finally, I learned to talk…to ask for what I want, to say what I mean, to be responsible for what I say, and to expect the same from others.

So, my dad had the disease of alcoholism, but, boy, did he teach me how to communicate.

What Makes YOU An Expert?

“Guida is such a quiet child.  Is everything OK at home?” my sixth-grade teacher Mr. C. asked my mother.  And, of course, my mother assured him that everything was, indeed, OK at home.  In fact, I was the classic “hero” child:  I was an “A” student, high achiever, a perfectionist who never wanted any attention on me.  I played the violin, took honors classes, and, even though I was the “baby,” I was the first in my family to go to college.  If I did everything just right, maybe my dad wouldn’t drink anymore.  And, even if he continued to drink, at least I could show everyone that I wasn’t like him.

Well, my dad only stopped drinking when he was admitted into the hospital for terminal cancer, an admission he never returned from.  And now, all these years later, I don’t care who thinks I am like he was.

My dad had a disease, the disease of alcoholism.

It took me a long time to realize that his disease was not a reflection of me, but once I did, my healing began.

I still get accused of being a perfectionist.  I’m not, though I admit that when something falls under my purview, I want it done my way, to my standards.  Does that make me a control freak?  Well, I know some people think it does!  I think it makes me a good administrator.

I know that we all have opportunities for growth, and I am no different.  However, I can now look back with the clarity of 20/20 vision and appreciate all the lessons I learned from my father.  I have come far in being the person I want to be.