by Alcomum

Created on: May 02, 2009   Last Updated: December 07, 2011

I grew up with an alcoholic parent. And now history repeats itself as my two children are growing up with an alcoholic parent. Me.

I didn't know I was an alcoholic until about 2 months ago. I might have occasionally wondered if I might have a drink problem (while half way down a bottle of wine at 10.00am in times of severe stress), but because that wasn't every day I soon talked myself out of it. Alcoholics are good at that. At deceiving ourselves. And others.

I usually dread school holidays. I am ashamed to say that I have spent a great deal of my time with my children watching the clock to see how soon their dad will be arriving to pick them up. That is a difficult admission to make, because I love my children so much and have a deep rooted fear of being judged a "bad mother". But I am now on a programme of recovery in Alcoholics Anonymous that requires "rigorous honesty" if it is to succeed, and I can see now, after 8 weeks of sobriety, that I have harmed my children. They have come between me and a drink too many times. I have shouted. Sworn. And done many other things that all the books tell you not to do as a parent (I have most of those books on my new bookcase, so I know this).

Usually during the school holidays, I book them into full day care as if I were at work all day. Yet I have not really been able to work all day for some time. I have not been able to cope with life, and that has included coping with my children. Don't get me wrong - they are (mostly) clean, and always warm, well-fed, and I can get them wherever they need to be whenever they need to be there. But I can't wait to get home to get the wine open. I love "being in for the night" with no more driving to do to various clubs and sports venues. And I have been impatient. Intolerant. Selfish. Resentful. Of two little people.

What's done is done. And I now have the opportunity to make amends. My AA sponsor asked me once if I ever stole anything when I was drinking. I said of course not. I may be a depressed, self-harming alcoholic, but I do have standards you know. I am not a common thief. Perish the thought! He asked if I had ever stolen the smile from my children's faces. Trite, I thought. But it hit a nerve. I know the feeling I get when my youngest son says "Mummy don't be cross" with tears rolling down his wee cheeks. When his biggest crime was not eating his breakfast as quickly as I would like. or taking too long to put his socks on. Of course, there are other times he says it when

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