Setting Boundaries Is A Bitch

I had to do something that I've needed to do for a long time. I didn't want to do it, but I've spent 37 years dealing with my fathers alcoholism in one way shape or form. I had to tell him that he no longer gets to see my son if he's not in therapy or maintaining sobriety. Call it cold or harsh, but I don't want my 7 year old to be subjected to the actions of the alcoholic and the lies that follow.

After becoming a parent, I realized that I would take a bullet for my son. I would jump in front of a train for him. I would sacrifice myself in order for him to live. I feel that most parents feel this way. I realized that mine don't. I've had to ask others if situations in my past were normal, because I honestly didn't know. Every time I ask, I get a resounding "NO". These situations are not normal, nor are they what a child should be subjected to in order for a parent to save themselves. Having a parent keep things a secret (let's just keep this between us, okay?-- does this sound familiar?) is not okay if the child is the one bearing the brunt of the burden. I was 12 when I was nearly raped by an older boy, one whom I grew up with and was close with. Why wasn't this reported? Because my dad had been drinking with him. Keeping this a secret, in my mind, was only because this was shameful, like the sexual assault was my fault. I never talked about it. We never talked about it. I kept it quiet until fairly recently when I started realizing that... it's not normal behavior. That's not something you should expect ANYONE to do, especially your own damn children.

There were more alcohol related episodes that my brother and I ended up shouldering. My brother probably wouldn't admit them, or he'd say I'm psycho or seeking attention by just talking about it. Our paths diverged a long time ago, and while I'm sure it was a coping mechanism, it still sucks. From my dad getting drunk at my friends funeral at the tender age of 14 (this death was attributed to drinking and driving) forcing my brother and I to walk home, to violent outbursts while rip shit drunk, it was unfortunately normal. Or at least we thought it was.

When I could leave, I did. I hated calling home even when I lived two hours away, and I called even less frequently when I lived 18+ hours away. The distance made me forget a bit. The distance made me forget a lot. It made me pine for what I had hoped for a relationship with my father. It made me forget the bad. It made me want to move home.

So we did.

This is when it all unraveled. My marriage, my relationship with my dad, the lackluster relationship with my brother... everything came crashing down around me. I had no supports. My father never claimed to be sober, but insisted that he had his drinking under control. This was a lie. This was a lie that I had heard so many times before. Like every other time, I swallowed it. I swallowed it out of fear. Fear of being kicked out of his house, fear of being homeless upon moving back to Maine. Fear of retaliation. I knew I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. My situation did not allow for that to happen.

Why all the backstory? I caught my dad in another lie. This time, I called him out on it. I got yelled at. I was called a bitch and a drama queen. This time, I refused to be the scapegoat. After being yelled at and hung up on, I made the instant decision to limit contact with myself, and my son. Both my step mom and my ex husband are on board, and they will honor my wishes. Having to explain to my son why grandpa is sick was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Trying to make that conversation age appropriate while he asks questions was fucking brutal. fucking brutal.

I'm proud of myself for the boundaries that were set, but I'm also really fucking pissed that I even needed to do this. I'm also pissed that I had to explain this bullshit to my 7 year old son.

I hope if anyone else is dealing with this shit like me, I hope that you're okay. I hope that you can stay strong, and rely on your supports. If you don't have them and you'd like to talk; I'm here. This shit sucks, and no one needs to deal with this alone.

xoxo