Hello, 2018.
Last month, I turned 35. I don’t like celebrating or acknowledging my birthday – mostly because of unpleasant birthday memories (i.e. Mom’s drunkenness ruining celebrations or her overall treatment of birthdays as an obligation, rather than a blessing as part of motherhood). This year, I quietly celebrated this birthday. It marked 10 years since my 25th birthday, which I will always remember. My 25th birthday fell on a Saturday. I woke that morning and cried into my pillow for two or three hours. 25 was supposed to be a care-free time. On regular days, I didn’t have much time to think about it but on my birthday, I grieved a care-free life that I’d NEVER experienced. I had recently moved from mid-Michigan back into my parents’ house in metro Detroit because Mom’s drinking had dramatically worsened and my sister, who was so young, was really being hurt by it. I needed to be there for my sister…and everyone. I was the adult of the household, barely holding it all together in every way. I felt such heavy responsibility. I cried that birthday morning because I had nothing to look forward to and everything to dread. It was the beginning of the darkest period of my life, which led to my own rock bottom at 26.
That morning, I wish I could have been handed a crystal ball to look at life at 35, which isn’t perfect but an entirely different, better life than the one I had in my 25th year. Maybe I would have believed I’d have a job I enjoyed more than the one I had back then. Maybe I’d even have believed that I’d have my own little house. But there’s no way I would have believed that Dad would die and Mom would live through it. I would not have believed that Mom would be working full-time and mostly entirely supporting herself financially. I couldn’t have believed I’d live without the weight of extreme responsibility for everyone and without such a constant weakened hope for the future. I couldn’t have believed I’d be detached from the chaos that surrounds Mom’s substance use disorder. I couldn’t have believed that I’d forgive my mom and dad or that I could sit with my mother at a family wedding and have a pleasant conversation.
How I could have believed any of it, really? That life was all I’d ever known.
10 years later, I have a few more wrinkles and much more wisdom earned through this healing and grownup life journey than I did back then.
For those who wake up on their birthday with the hopelessness and sense of entrapment in immobility as I felt, I say: A life you cannot imagine today is possible.
Wishing you serenity and growth in this new year.
P.S. Looking forward to sharing more on JodyLamb.com, on social and in person this year. The last few months have been very hectic with work…and I bought a house! All the while through the search and process, I put myself through hell.
I don’t deserve this! A common ACoA thing…
I can’t afford this! What if X happens and I must take care of Mom and Brooke (sister)?…
I’ll never find something just right…
Something’s going to get screwed up and the whole thing will fall through…
That’s how those 12 weeks went all the way until 9:30 pm on New Year’s Eve (a day with record-breaking cold in here in Michigan, btw) when I brought the last boxes and introduced Larry (cat) and Rocco to their new home. As usual, I rejected offers for help because “I have movers coming and I totally got it.” Well, I had movers for the big stuff but I did a whole lot of packing and multiple trips back and forth by myself. It was exhausting and I should have accepted and asked for help. I’m just not good at asking for and accepting that I need help. Ever the journey…
Starting this new year feeling grateful for Serenity (what I named my cozy, little house).
Jody Lamb is an author, blogger and adult child of an alcoholic on a journey to create an awesome grownup life. Visit JodyLamb.com. Twitter and Instagram: @JodyMLamb. YouTube: /JodyLamb. Facebook.com/JodyLambAuthor.
