Merry holiday season, friends. It’s here.
Growing up, I had mixed feelings about the holidays – and by “the holidays,” I mean six weeks of so-called merriment-filled events including Thanksgiving Day, Christmas-related events at school, my birthday, my sister’s birthday, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.
In the early years, I looked forward to leaving cookies for Santa and a ridiculously tall pile of carrots for the reindeer. I looked forward to the TV specials. I looked forward to the extra friendliness of people around town. I looked forward to putting money into the Salvation Army red kettles. I looked forward to presents under the tree.
But as the effects of my mother’s alcoholism worsened or I became more aware of them, the holidays brought me an extraordinary amount of anxiety. My mother controlled everything related to our celebration of those holidays – where we went, when we went, how long we stayed, the list goes on. I know now that every decision she made was tied directly or indirectly to her drinking – from hangovers to withdrawals to damaged personal relationships. Getting to school Christmas concerts on time was a feat I barely accomplished; I remember running into the classroom nearly out of breath, seconds before the teachers ushered us into the gym for the start of the show. Christmas Eve was generally awful. In my early years, I’d sneak out of my room, too excited to sleep and too hopeful about catching a glimpse of Santa. My mom was always drunk and furious at my dad over something, or stumbling around while she wrapped presents, complaining about something. I remember being worried that she’d be mean to Santa or that Santa wouldn’t come because she was still there in the living room at a late hour. Her behavior was confusing but it became the holiday norm. My father reacted in one of two ways (or both) over the course of the evening: He’d shout back at her or lock himself in the basement with Christmas music drowning out her yelling.
On Christmas Day, we’d head off to my father’s family celebration. I remember feeling nervous the entire time because I knew my mom felt uncomfortable. She spoke often during her drunken rants that she felt on edge around my father’s family. Today, I know these feelings were rooted in her insecurities and strains on the relationships due to her alcoholism. Our visits there were cut short so that we could also attend my mother’s family’s celebration. There, I felt more relaxed but we often hurried home before everyone else because Mom wanted to start her nightly routine.
After my sister was born, my mother’s alcoholism worsened dramatically. By my college years, I’d shifted into the responsible adult role, salvaging as much good about the holidays as I could for my sister, who was just a child. I was focused on making the experience for her better than my own. But Christmas Eve was a disaster, year after year. Mom’s drunken rages on that holy night were particularly upsetting to me. I think it was because I knew that night was **supposed to be** peaceful, warm and serene. Naturally, on that night, I felt we were extra screwed up compared to everyone else. After tucking in my sister for the night, I helped my dad assemble toys and wrap presents. Though he tried to hide it, I saw the exhaustion, frustration and anger on his face. The memories are vivid.
“Thanks for ruining another Christmas!” he’d shout up the basement stairs to my mother who would often stand at the top of the staircase, yelling about trivial matters or completely irrational stuff that made zero sense.
Christmas morning went something like this: Mom would take forever getting out of bed, too sick and hung over to function at the early hour. When she finally got out of bed, she’d lie back on the couch, looking half dead until about her fourth or fifth cup of coffee. I wanted so badly to fix her. I wondered about the Christmas memories from childhood that stung for her – surely, significantly more painful than the memories that my sister and I hold with us. I would have given up every present received throughout my life if my mother would not take another drink again. I still feel this way today – and it still hurts knowing I’ll never be able to fix her.
As my mother plummeted into her darkest point, I was still in college but shifted fast into the role of the household’s responsible adult. My mother’s relationship with my dad’s family had eroded – another casualty of her alcoholism. Mom stopped attending their events, though they welcomed her. She also pushed away her own family, skipping holiday events or just stopping in for a short time.
Ever the co-dependent, my dad began skipping the events, too. After all, she couldn’t spend the holiday alone…So the family of four became simply a sister duo representing the family at school functions and the family get-togethers. The holidays, including our birthdays, became anxiety-filled obligations and disappointments more than happy celebrations of any kind. With my little sister in tow, I went to every holiday-related thing there was to attend because I felt I had to, for my sister’s sake and for the sake of the family. If our parents didn’t go, we had to go – otherwise, our extended families’ feelings would be hurt and the grandmas would be disappointed. So, we went.
Following our father’s passing, and my sister moving in with me, the holiday celebrations have changed. While that familiar anxiety lingers around, we’ve let go of the control it had over us. Boundaries are set. I don’t allow Mom’s plans to dictate our plans. As much as I can, I don’t allow her behavior to affect my emotions. I don’t attend everything there is to attend. I host small family get togethers. My sister and I are making new traditions such as a post-Mass, Christmas Eve dinner at McDonald’s. This sounds terribly sad but it’s not. In fact, the best Christmas memories are tied to these nontraditional dinners. It’s quite liberating and fun to go out and do what we want to do.
For three decades, I was trapped in the madness of my parents’ home for the holidays. Of course, the memories will stay with me forever. The anxiety will show up. But now the holidays are mine to shape how I want to celebrate them. As a very aware ACOA, I make a conscious effort to take good care of myself. I’m really enjoying creating these new traditions. The cycle of addiction in my family stops with my sister and me.
If you’re still experiencing the holidays amid madness as the child of an alcoholic (or adult child of an alcoholic), know that the future is yours. While the old memories may remain, the cycle ends with you. There will be new memories to create in the next chapter.
Take good care of yourself.
Jody, thanks for sharing your heartfelt story. You never know who will be blessed by hearing what you have gone through and how you have overcome obstacles. Love your un-traditional dinner and that you’re creating new memories with your sister.
Wishing you the best.
Oh thank you, Angela. I really appreciate that. McDonald’s is surprisingly packed on Christmas Eve so our nontraditional dinner may be traditional for many people! 🙂 I hope you have a wonderful Christmas celebration with your family!
Jody, thank you are sharing….and for having the courage to grow and let go…You have been an inspiration to me and many … You are a sensitive, brave and kind young lady. I am sorry for the pain you have gone through but so happy for your ability to go forward and not let the past define who you are….Continue to be the best you can be and know your family loves and supports you always …
Thanks, Aunt Barb. XOXO.
Here’s how growing up with an alcoholic father affected my life. There were scary times when he’d get violent when I was a young kid and he’d break stuff in the house that I’ll never forget. He’d also scold my older brothers pretty aggressively with belts mostly before I was born. He once banged their heads together and they got black eyes. I got lucky. He felt bad when he got older and I was born and I only got the belt once. I’ll admit though, I was being a big whiny brat at the time and I remember it perfectly and almost asked for it. I don’t think he was even drinking at the time. That was when I was about 8 years old. Later in life he went on drinking binges a lot but was non violent. His alcoholism really affected the family mostly by quitting jobs and not getting along with bosses or management. That really kept us in the poor house and on welfare throughout a great deal of my childhood. He died from a heart attack at age 51 when I was 19. I never had any ill feelings towards him. He was always my hero. Had answers for any question I ever asked him. He was super smart and I wish he were here today. I wish he could’ve met my kids and I tear up every time I think about it. For the most part I had a pretty good childhood sans some violent acts by my dad and police situations. As an adult though I do drink and probably way more than I should. What scares me most about this is my family health history with heart disease on both sides. I know drinking plays a big part. I’m not only worried about my health but I don’t want to set an example for my kids that drinking often is the norm. Although I’m pretty active and keep in shape, it’s something I need to keep in check and always on my mind. I need to be more mindful on my choices. Jody, you know alcoholism on a different level than me. I can’t imagine if my mom died and I had to deal with an alcoholic dad as an adult. I have so much respect for you on so many levels. I’m so glad you are my friend! You are amazing and keep doing what you are doing!
I meant NOT the norm by the way. Haha
Keith, all these years knowing you and I never heard the full story about your dad! Thank God you had your sweet mom around. Thank you for sharing about that. I’m glad you have so many good memories of him, despite what addiction did to him and how it impacted your whole family. Addiction does not discriminate yet seems to afflict the smartest, kindest people! It’s terrible. That’s why it’s important to remember the good about the people with addiction, not the behavior and destruction that their addiction caused. I think about this constantly with my mom and all of the people in my family with addiction. They’re SUCH good people and they suffer, truly suffer (and choose not to get help…) and everyone who loves them suffers, too. It’s definitely good to focus on your health, especially with addiction and heart disease in your genes. I know that you and Katie are raising two wonderful people who will be free from addiction. You’re the kind of dad your father probably wished he could be but he was trapped in addiction. How proud he is of you, I’m sure.
Hugs, Jody. I’m so glad you’re making new traditions. You and your sister are lucky to have one another. <3
Thanks, Mel. Happy Christmas to you and the family!
Very nice blog
I grew uo in am alcoholic home. My mother ruined holiday after holiday with screaming and fighting. The only good Christmas’s were when my maternal grandmother would come. I was buying my own presents and wrapping thrm by the time I was 14. Baked my own birthday cales since I was 9. She never baked me a cake, never once hugged or kissed me as a child. Some Thanksgiving’s, my father would go to his mother’s and leave ne alone with her..no meal, no family..it was horrible. I had hatred toward for years him for doing that and shucking his parental duties
She tried to committ suicide 3x the summer I graduated frim high school. I stayed away from the house. I got a job right away and proceeded to crash at any friend’s house that was available, I never told anyone,..tried to hide all of it. She was given ECT txs the 3rd time she tried to kill herself and miraculously stopped drinking..but, she was just as nasty to me. Always finding fault, criticizing me. She accused me of sleeping with my own father when she was drunk from the time I was 10 years old..She would scream I know You ar f******him. She was nuts. I don’t know hiw I survived it..it took its toll..codependency, abandoment issues until I finally went to therapy. Put myself thru school and made a life for myself despite divorce. She tarnished my life beyond belief with her selfishness and hysterics. God bless anyone who must survive this. Much love to all living thru this and those of us who got out and survived
Thanks so much for your writing Jody. I came across it as I was googling ACOA and Christmas. I grew up in an alcoholic family with multigenerational drinking in our home. One particularly traumatic memory is of my dad beating up my uncle on Christmas in his own home, smashing all the gifts and throwing the tree, then calling me to brag when I was 15.
Because of this, I’m noticing this year my fear of Christmas being ruined. And what’s happening now? My fear of ruin has taken over the holidays and now, it’s the 28th, my partner and I have been arguing for days, family visits have been cancelled, special food we splurged on is expiring in the fridge, and most of the presents are still under the tree as neither if us is willing to open them without loving Christmas spirit. This is the first Christmas I’ve made the connection between this old memory and my own self fulfilling prophecy. I’m taking a time out from the house right now to get in touch with my own shame and hopefully be able to take down my defenses from there. I am still in the middle of this chaos as it lives on in me now. But, I’ve had huge success in overcoming in other areas, so, next year I’ll look your post up again to share my success in tackling this one too. One day at a time, one issue at a time, we can all get there.
Also, I love Christmas Eve McD’s, too!! Thanks for sharing your story.
I am so sorry that you have such terrible holiday memories! As you have overcome other challenges, you will overcome this, too! Best wishes to you.
Memories that would seem unbelievable in a film or book. I hope you have healed and created many new, happy memories as an adult free from all of it.