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Children of alcoholics grow up to be adult children of alcoholics. My story is a little different from many others I've heard about, as my dad was never abusive to me. Actually, my dad never spanked me.

In my teen years is when my dad's alcoholism got out of control. During that time, it seems most days revolved around trying to pretend life was not what it was. I distanced myself from friends and family.

I think that children of alcoholics tend to grow up confused. I wanted to disappear, yet at the same time I longed so deeply to be loved even though I had no idea what that was. I needed and thrived on attention and lots of it, yet at the same time I just wanted to be alone. Perfectionism is another thing I noticed popping up in my life, yet if I felt I couldn't do something perfect I wouldn't even try. Needless to say, most things I did not feel I could do adequately.

Children of alcoholics learn to hide their feelings. That increased as I became an adult. At one point I remember my mother saying, I don't know when you are happy and when you are not because you have become very good at hiding your true feelings.

As I stated above children of alcoholics grow up to be adult children of alcoholics. Many times being the adult children of an alcoholic is even harder than when we are children. My adult years were filled with memories of my dad being in and out of jail and yes, even prison for DWI's.

I remember making many choices and decisions hoping to make a difference. However, it seemed I just couldn't make a difference in my dad's life concerning alcohol. My dad was a good man who would help anyone anytime. His only downfall was the alcohol that had taken over his life and separated him from his family.

Usually daddy would drink a lot on his visits and I would angrily avoid him. When he would leave, I would be sad because yet again I had been disappointed. Moreover, as most adult children of alcoholics the question was in always in my mind, would I ever see my dad again?

Then the day came The doctors told my dad that he was dying. As an only child, I knew I had a choice to make. My dad lived about 5 hours away. Would I avoid the situation and pretend it wasn't happening or would I do the right thing and take care of my dad? That would mean bringing my daddy, the man I loved so much and longed for so many years to finally have father/daughter memories with again, into my home so that I could take care of him. That would also mean allowing alcoholism back into my life.

I

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