Saturday, September 21, 2013

A Broken Promise Revisited






When my youngest turned two we took a bike ride on the trail near our house together. We went to this trail almost every day- I logged miles and miles running and running and pushing both he and his older brother there in the running stroller. On that day he was behind me in the bike seat. I was very hungover.

"I promise you, for your birthday, I will quit drinking. I will quit for you. I will quit on your birthday so I will always remember. I will quit so you can have a mom better than me." I said these words reverently, quietly. I meant them. All of them. But it was a promise I only kept until later that day when we opened bottles of wine to celebrate.

I regretted even speaking those words out loud, for even though he wouldn't know what I meant the universe surely heard and was possibly pissed. But then again the universe knew I was a big fat liar and didn't believe a word I said anyway.

My youngest turns five on Sunday. He will never know the pain and sadness I feel at how I frittered away his babyhood and toddler days carelessly drinking and drinking. I drank when I was breastfeeding. I drank and drank away his first year so carelessly and sporatically that I don't really even remember much of it, other than I was marathon training, picked up smoking again, and stayed out all night getting wasted with people from work when I should have been home with my new baby, his brother, and my husband.

Looking back, I can guess that I had some pretty serious postpartum shit going on. Which I probably could have seen if I hadn't been in such a fog of drunk and hungover and emotional overload. Holy shit. God, I think back on that year and how I hate it. I ran a marathon and was so proud of myself. The accomplishment of that one day should have been what I felt every day about my home, my family. That year I was so so so selfish, and hated it all while I loved it so much I had to turn away. There was so much to lose, and I was trying my best to lose it.

I remembered that bike ride earlier today. Out of the blue it popped up in my head. I didn't keep that promise for a few more years, but the important part is that I finally kept it.

I am so thankful to my husband for staying even when he should have left. I am thankful to my children for loving me in spite of what they don't even realize I've done. I am so thankful to myself for finally coming to my senses and being brave enough to say help, and no. No more. No. more. Please. And then I can. I can. I am doing it.

It's unsettling how I can recall that one snippet of declaration from three years ago. And totally understandable since I said those things to myself all the time, but just never out loud, to anyone. And how that one conversation on that one day stuck with me.

I imagine that my sobriety is built on all of these conversations and wishes. I believe that I am so strongly sober because I yearned for it so desperately for so long. I know that one reason I stay sober is because I made a promise to a little boy three years ago and I need to keep it. I will stay sober because I make a promise to myself every day to keep going.

Luckily my husband stayed. My boys love me fiercely with open arms and hearts. Our loves aren't perfect, but they are ours. I don't have to break the beauty of them to keep them holy. I keep my promises. I make ones I mean. I'll stay sober. I'll love and not be afraid. I'll go through it instead of around it. I promise.


15 comments:

  1. My kids and I always had a deal...I don't promise often but when I do, I never break a promise.

    Except once.

    I promised my boys that I would never drink again...and then I relapsed. They forgave me for breaking that promise but I don't think I've forgiven myself.

    But we can't live in the past right? What's done is done. All we can do is move forward...sober. And love them with a fierceness they will only understand when they have children of their own.

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    1. We cannot live in the past. Otherwise I'd be still crying under a rock somewhere. :)

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  2. This is beautiful, Amy.

    "Our loves aren't perfect, but they are ours." ((sigh)) love this.

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    1. Thank you. I meant it to say 'lives' but then it just said everything I wanted to just like that.

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  3. Oh sweetie this is so lovely. (sorry I don't know why I'm calling you sweetie, it just came out).. to channel Tara Bracht a bit I think before you get anywhere you need to look on yourself with compassion. Get that unhappy boozing Amy and stand her next to you now and show her some kindness. Tell her it's ok, you know she's unhappy but you're going to get her out of here and everything is going to be ok. She deserves nothing but kindness and compassion.. we've all done shit, it doesn't make us awful.. your husband knew the lovely strong brave you and look how she's the bit that one. You could still be a boozy hag and you're not. You're awesome!! xxx

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    1. Boozy hag- LOL! Writing about these things is my compassion. It's a balm to my tender soul.

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  4. sorry that was meant to say "look how she's the bit of you that won". WON!!!!

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  5. Wow - thank you for this. It resonates - I could have written this. I remember pumping and dumping when my son was 10 days old so I could get shitfaced on Christmas. My son will be 5 in December and I basically drank away the first four years of his life.

    The beauty in your situation ( a,nd mine too) is that we didn't wait so long to get sober that all of our little ones' childhood memories would be steeped in booze. But living with the regrets - yeah, that's tough.

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    1. Ugh, the booze and breastfeeding. I would feed, pump, and then drink. Then make do with pumped milk and feed him after I'd been drinking if I had to. What a shitty thing. Forgiveness will take time. I can relate: I feel so disappointed that I wasn't paying attention for my last baby bits of time.

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  6. I can almost guarantee you that if I were a woman and was breastfeeding, I would have been drinking. No doubt about it. I say that because I too was in your situation, and my kid is going to be six soon and I too hope he doesn't remember drunk dad. Who knows. But I love this post...resonates so much with me. So well said. (Funny - the post I am working on deals with something similar to this...with my kid, promises, etc. Great minds, etc...lol)

    Have a glorious day, my friend.

    Paul

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  7. I breast fed and I didn't drink, but the minute I quit, I picked up a bottle of booze and didn't put it down for another 27 years. This was a very brave post, Amy, and I commend you for stopping before your kids had a picture of you drunk burned into their brains. Hell, mine have photo albums. I am visiting my youngest right now, the one who's heart I broke the most with my drinking and actions, and I keep thinking we need to have the conversation, the one in which I try to explain why I continued to drink. But there is no explanation that he would understand, or one that would atone for all those wasted years. But there doesn't seem to be any anger on his part and I am thankful for that and that I hopefully have a lot of years left to create better memories.

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    1. Thank you for saying it was brave- being honest can be quite a fearful thing. But saying these awful things out loud makes them less powerful. And it means I own it, so I can work on forgiving myself for it. I'm glad he isn't overly angry- that would be so hard. I hope you have truckloads of years to make more memories. xoxoxo

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  8. This is so heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time and that's the world of the recovering alcoholic! I made some many promises which I never uttered out loud in case I let anyone else down. I didn't seem to mind breaking my own heart over and over again. That kind of abuse will take ages to heal as will most of the damage which was really to ourselves. I know my kids don't hold it against me etc. They thought it was all normal. We have a new kind of normal now, one I know they prefer, much like your kids do, I guess. They have you present now, that is all that matters. We only have today and hopefully tomorrow. The sooner we heal, the better that will be for everyone. Go easy on yourself Amy... Carrie x

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  9. Thank you Carrie. I go easy when I need to and hard when I can. To make it all the way better I can't take the easy way out. The new normal of non-hungover slug mom is a good one. I mean, we built Legos this morning. I never would have done that on Sunday morning a year ago. I would have been trying to sleep more while the kids zoned out on tv. I am so thankful every every day. Even when the days are hard. xoxoxo

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