A Little Bit Mad

I will not say this out loud. At least not in certain groups. I know that I am being petty. I know that it is childish.

But I am mad at my son. He is fourteen. He does not deserve my anger. But I am mad. I am mad that he is choosing life at his real moms over what we have given him. I know, that is immature. But I am mad.

I am mad that he hurts his dad, my husband. It is not intentional. He loves his dad. But he does not appreciate, or even know, everything his dad has done and sacrificed for him.

I am mad that he doesn’t think of how his sisters feel. The sisters that have been his for the last seven years. They have loved him like true family. He has left them behind like they weren’t even there.

I am mad that he clings to her. I have been there for him constantly. I have raised like like he was mine. It makes me mad that the credit I deserve from him, now goes to her. I am mad that he only thinks of his own happiness and has just left us behind. I am mad that I have watched him cry his eyes out over her for years, and now he chooses her.

But he is a fourteen year old boy. He is finding his way. And I have to be the adult and allow it. That is why I would never say it out loud.

But the truth is, I am mad. And hurt. And now I wait. Hopeful that he will come back.

 

Refocused

I haven’t written for awhile. Like, over a month. I haven’t been inspired. No motivation to write. And quite honestly, I have been struggling.

Struggling to accept this disease. I have read countless articles and stories and studies. They all point to the same thing. Addiction is a disease. A disease that will ruin your life and then kill you. I have always struggled with this concept. I know that booze and drugs kill people, I have just always had a hard time believing people have no control. But because I drank regularly and excessively, I bought it. The truth is, I drink to get drunk. I drink more than most people. Does that make me an alcoholic? Maybe. Probably. But I don’t believe it will be my demise.

I believe I can retrain my brain and develop a different way. Now, this might be an unrealistic goal from a delusional drunk. If that’s the case, I will admit that I am wrong. I will restart my journey to sobriety. The truth is, I don’t want to drink every day, or even every week. But I do enjoy catching a buzz. I don’t want to have rules I have to follow and create a world that is only black and white.

I have also been struggling within. I have never accepted myself, loved myself. I have rarely looked in the mirror and been happy. I almost also replay every conversation I have to question if I made myself look stupid. I avoid people because I think they are judging me. And this attempt at sobriety only escalated that. I was nervous what people would think of me if I didn’t drink, or if I did. All of my insecurities became overwhelmingly real, and in my face.

And that made me think. Perhaps I have a drinking problem, but maybe my problem is with myself. Maybe that should be my focus. And I know I have preached that we should all be confident and strive to be happy. Way easier said then done.

So from this point forward, my one day at a time will be focused on something else. I will strive to fall in love with my self. The way I look, the way I am and the way I feel. My opinion will become the most important.