Letting go of my anger at addiction

I grew up without a father. My mom took us away from him when I was 4 years old. This was a necessary step and we all were better off for the choice she made to leave. This decision left me without a father but it also provided a childhood of stability, calm and safety. I never have and never will fault my mom for the very hard choices she had to make.

My childhood was wonderful. I was very close with my family, participated in soccer, girl scouts and Hebrew school. I had good friends and lots of cousins. But I was also glaringly aware of how my family was different. I had a single mom and we lived in rentals which we would periodically be evicted from (not through fault, but circumstance). All my friends lived in big houses, had their own rooms, and two parents.

The reason I grew up this way was my father’s struggles with alcoholism. I have very few memories of him but the phrase used to describe him most was “when he was good, he was very, very good and when he was bad he was horrible.” We would periodically get updates about another relapse, or a stint in rehab.

When I was 19 and away at college, we were notified that he had been found face down in a gutter, unconscious. He spent a couple weeks in the ICU before recovering. This incident was the result of a weeks’ long binge drinking episode.

Exploring complex grief and how to offer condolences

A key point I must note in my processing of his life and loss, was that I was never directly exposed to addiction or recovery. It was a reality of my life that was both ever present and very far away.

As part of this job, I am working closely with a great many people, all in recovery from substance use. We are coordinating efforts to establish the recovery friendly workplace movement in North Carolina. I have met dozens of people in recovery who have dedicated their lives to supporting others that struggle with addiction. They are beautiful humans and success stories of what people can achieve when they have a will and adequate support and accommodations.

It is only in working with this community that I have come to understand how much my father did not have control over his condition. My father was not a recovery success story. He never managed to make amends or turn his life around. He died without family surrounding him and eleven dollars to his name.

I am realizing now, and in no small part to the unsolicited kindness, generosity of heart, and braveness that this community brings daily, that I am letting go of my anger. What before I could say as a rational adult, I can now internalize - He did not have control over his illness and he did the best he could. In my case, the best he could do was to stay away and that’s what my family needed of him.

My hope is that, through this work, people that are struggling, have more support and that the rest of us can have more empathy to help them through their struggles.