Adult Children of Alcoholics--Why We Must Let Go

When I first began my spiritual work I felt like I was lit on fire.

As my awareness of self-grew--and my awareness of my connection to all that is expanded, it was difficult not to run out into the streets and scream, "People I get it! I get it!--We are not our wounds!!! We are so, so, so, so much more than that!!! We are all created from the same source!!! What we experienced as children was not the way it was intended to be and as adults--we get to script our own stories!!!"

Of course, I didn't do that, but whenever I felt that someone I was speaking to opened the door to their soul, and I felt the intuition to open my mouth and let out what I had learned along my journey--I always found a way to say what I believed needed to get said.

It has been a long journey inward.  Many miracles have shown up in my life since then, all of which I immerse my mind and heart in gratitude for daily, and often.

To all of my dear brothers and sisters who have suffered as children whether the abuse was directly related to alcohol, or because your caretakers abused you in some other verbal, emotional, physical, or sexual way--we all must learn to let go--so that we can free our bodies from old dank energy that is locked within our bodies cells.

Our aches, pains, headaches, panic attacks, nervousness, rashes, asthma and alike, are manifestations of our old pains--the ones we never felt worthy of to express when we were innocent little girls and boys.  Within us, all is the power to not only lift the veil of illusion that has taught us to turn away from self, but also that we are not worthy of the right to express our pain, and then ultimately let it go.

It is time to heal.

As our earth enters its new age--and raises its vibrational frequency--it is not only a time of cleansing for our planet--but for its children as well...

Feel your pain, allow tears to carry out of you all the old pain you once hid from others in your confusing home, stay in bed for a day or two, wear pajama's for days at a time and even eat your pints of ice cream if your inner child feels like that is what it needs to do...and when you are through--imagine you learning to be the mother to you--that you always deserved.

Seek masters out who have walked the journey you are on--and in the back of your mind never forget--that pain has served as a contrast.

The only way to heal self--is through self...

Return to you this weekend and do what you can to love the inner child within you.

Namaste...

11:11 Healing--Raising Frequency

If you amplify the frequency--the structure of the matter will change.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHYsUlzR-6E&feature=related

11:11 Message to ACoA

If you were born blind, and suddenly could see at the age of forty seven, there probably would not be a moment that went by for the remainder of your life that you did not appreciate the light.

When you are the child who is born into a dysfunctional family, who is unaware at how absurd, abnormal, or bazaar their families ways of communicating are, a veil is draped between you and Self.

Because of this veil you will go on through life feeling alien like in your own skin.  Nothing will feel right.  Nothing will make sense.

And you will believe in this darkness--and in this nothingness...and you will be pulled further and further away from the light of your soul.

The truth is--you were born divine.

The truth also is the pain you experience as you travel through life can and should be--and if you are here right now on 11-11-12--will be--your jumping off place for a future abundant life.

Finally when your mind conceives the understanding that the greater your pain--the greater your glory shall be--your awareness of self will expand, and your journey back to the light (self) shall begin.

The deeper your pain----the more magnificent your healing and the more sense your life---including your transcending your family's faulty genetics and your own pain body will make.

Until now you have been asleep--and separated from the light being you are. Until now, you did not understand you had the free will, and the choice to remove this veil at any point in time.

It is not necessary to look back and lose anymore of your seeds of time and question why not until now.  If you are here...and hearing these words--know that your time is now 11-11-12.

As you heal, your emotional and vibrational offering shifts...Imagine if every wounded child of an ACoA embraced this healing information now--Imagine if all those breathing today in one giant wave began to remove the veils that separate them from self and divinity--Imagine the pure positive energy--imagine the love and the compassion for self that would flood our earth--and imagine the shift in mans consciousness that could occur on a mass level.

A new earth is upon us.

Brothers and sisters...if you are here--you are ready to begin your journey home to Self and meet the changes that are going on with our earth as it enters a new day.

Namaste....

Adult Children of Alcoholics; Making Peace With The Pain

I have been writing since I was seven years old.  It is forty years later, and I am still as passionate about writing, and expressing my inner thoughts than ever before.

Never in my life have I felt so directed to write what is about to flow from my inner being.  I am hoping that you know--trust--and believe with all of your being, that if you are here on this site, you have been divinely directed to this information.

Do with it what you will.  Go within your being, and feel.  Feel your body tingle, get goosebumps and chills, and know that is your inner being letting your know that what you have read resonates with it.  Know also--the tingling you are experiencing is in actuality an increase in your vibrational frequency.  The deeper you tingle, the more negativity and pain that is being transcended.

In the beginning--there was the word.

Words are first thoughts, and thoughts are first feelings.

Feelings are experienced in only two ways.  Feelings either feel good (positive) or they feel bad (negative).

Christ said, "I am the way--the truth--and the life--he who follows me shall not walk in darkness."

When we are adult children of alcoholics, or adult children of ACoA, we are told lies.

Because our caretakers walk in the dark, and hide themselves from truth--we--as their children get cut off from our divine selves.  By nature, our parents were designed to nurture our connections to self--but because of their addictions--they walked in the darkness instead.

John said, "The truth shall set you free".

As ACoA, we have been so wounded as children, we sometimes do not even realize we are living a lie.  And because ACoA live in deep states of denial, it is a miracle when one of their wounded souls finds the courage to look within, connect with their inner divinity, and ultimately--incrementally--bit by bit learns to speak (the word) truth.

To all my fellow ACoA's who have suffered perhaps even deeper than you may realize, the time has come (because you are here) to transcend the darkness you carry in your pain bodies now.

Denial keeps us heavy, depressed, confused, full of anxiety and drenches our body with a state of dis-ease.  Because our bodies were intended to be full of love, and because we wounded children do not vibrate on higher frequencies--due to our dank pain bodies--we are sometimes too preoccupied with how ill we feel to even begin going within and connecting to self with the intent of seeking truth.

You are not alone.  The world is full of wounded children just like me and just like you.

I have recently transcended pain I didn't even know I had.

So convinced that my recover work was through, I was not prepared for the washing over feeling that consumed me when my ACoA mother called and we had a chat about the truth.  So healing was our talk, that back and shoulder pain that I had been experiencing for years--suddenly disappeared.

Brothers and sisters, it is time. It is time to understand with mind, that our ACoA parents and caretakers did the best they could with the tools they had.

It is time we tell ourselves the truth.  We were born divine, and nothing--not a rape--not a beating--not neglect--not verbal, emotional, physical or sexual abuse can ever change that fact.

"The truth shall set you free."

When we wounded children learn to stop resisting our innate divinity, miracles show up--and they show up quick.

I understand now--that pain offered me the ability to transcend into higher realms of consciousness and even--vibrate on a higher emotional frequency.

Had it not been for the pain I endured due to my families alcoholism and my various self harming addictions--I would not have had any reason to transcend.  Pain helped me have faith in something greater than myself.  And it is pain that has offered me the opportunity to reach for a higher level of consciousness, and most importantly deeper depths of love and compassion.

Embrace your pain.  Allow your tears.  Feel your feelings.  Let them rise up like balloons in the sky, and watch them float away.  Ask for help if you need it. Know that when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change, and that includes the way you look at self.

I have made peace with my pain.  It is pain that turned me into a wounded healer...a truth sayer...and light worker.  Had it not been for pain, I would not resonate so synchronistically with other wounded souls.

Today, I forgive what has been, look forward to what lies ahead and have learned to tell the truth always--in my Now.

Namaste...

Adult Children Helping Other Adult Children

For the past week or so my soul has been reeling from emotions I am having a difficult time articulating.

That's not like me--well--not the new me.

For the past thirteen years I have been in codependent recovery and I have done everything I can to get what I feel out in the open, and in addition--to be able to name the feelings I once felt so compelled to deny.

Through daily journaling, meditating and many bouts of crying in hot epsom salt baths, I have incrementally learned to stand up for the little girl in me that was silenced so many years ago.

The old me was so repressed I couldn't tell you what my favorite color was or what my favorite foods were. I could--on the other hand tell you what my family members loved to eat, and what colors they preferred over others.

The old me was accustomed to tuning out.  It was easier to tune myself out, than it was to be tuned out by others first.

Last week my mother called and admitted that everything I wrote in my books about her and her emotional abuse towards me was true.

And although I consciously know it is validation I have always sought after, this was not the kind of parental validation I was seeking.

For it to be validated--that yes--all the emotional abuse I have said I have suffered is valid--is quite frankly bazaar.

I wonder, "Would my mother have ever come to me on her own, had I not exposed our family secrets in print, or would she have taken that validation to her grave?"

And too I wonder, "For how long has my mother known the truth? For how long has my mother kept her acknowledgments from me--and why?"

For an entire lifetime I internalized her inability to love and nurture me in an authentic way as a symptom of MY lack--In my mind--I could hear my spirit feeling--that I was simply never enough.

And now, here I am a woman of forty seven, and the daughter of a woman almost seventy, and still splinters of me wonder--in spite of all my time spent in recovery--why I wasn't enough to acknowledge before I wrote my books?

Consciously I understand that I am healing on deeper levels than ever before, and that I am now sort of in a cosmic limbo of sorts--and the psychological soul I am has every right to ask questions and to feel the peculiar emotions that are stirring up now.

But what I feel happening now is--it is not my inner child that is hurting anymore.  Today, it is the woman who is wise enough to comprehend what she has lost.  I never had a mother I could call my friend. I never had a mother I could completely trust.  I never had a mother that I knew I could cling to when life got rough.

It is not my inner child that stirs this blustery evening here in NY...it is the woman in me...the mother in me...who understands that time--and alcoholism has stolen from me--the love of a mother I deserved--and who is also aware that time cannot give the mother and daughter we are--a do over.

Beneath all the grieving my adult self feels like she is doing--I caution myself to remember--that my mother and her mother never got their do over either...

I want to personally thank all the recent visitors to my blog, like Sandra, Christopher, Karen, Judy, Anonymous and others who have truly encouraged me during this time.

Knowing that something as painful as what I am experiencing, is in someway helping other ACoA face their own pain--is what motivated me to get my ass of my couch this afternoon and write this post.

You are all loved...and we are all lovable...no matter who in our life was able to validate those truths...

Namaste...

Follow Up Letter To My ACoA Mom and Dad

As many of you know, I am the adult child of two adult children of alcoholics. Although neither of my parents drank when I was a child, my home was affected by the aftermath of alcoholism regardless.

My mother and I had an abrasive relationship.  I never understood her obsessive need to control every move I made when I was a little girl.

I remember specifically a moment in time that has never left my being.  So shocked and mortified in the moment my mother said, as my family and I gathered to watch television one evening, "Lisa, are you changing your underwear? I counted your panties, and there aren't many here? You don't want to smell like a piggy girl do you?"

Back in the early 70's children were seen and not heard.  But in my house I wondered if anyone could see 'me' at all.

It was the norm for my mother to hurl emotional mortars my way, and for my dad to stick his head in the sand, while I--his little girl felt like she had been blown to smithereens.

Many years later, and after much soul recovery work I have learned to unwind the codependent and toxic dynamic that defined my abusive relationship with my ACoA mom.

In the past seven months I have published two books about my life's story.

And within the next month, my third book will also be available.

Many of you know that I never told my parents that I was writing a book about our family dynamic.

I couldn't tell them because I knew they wouldn't understand why I was doing what I was doing.

A few months back my mom read the first three chapters of my book on Amazon.

I was terrified.

Like most codependent families do, my mother and I skated around important emotional topics, and settled for superficial communication instead, whenever we did talk.

ACoA have a difficult time going below the surface.  They are too busy trying to control what they see.

Fast forward;

I wrote an open letter to my mom and dad in an attempt to help ease whatever misunderstandings they may have had as the result of whatever they read on Amazon.

I asked my younger sister to read the letter to my mom and dad, which she did.

For about a week I tried not to worry about how my parents might react.  And when my mother called a few days after I sent them the letter, I didn't answer the phone.

My mother didn't stop calling, and so this past weekend, during hurricane Sandy, I answered when she called.

My stomach flipped and flopped when I said, "Hi mom, how are you?"

I didn't know what to expect when she said, "I want to talk to you about your letter."

So foreign to me for my mother to want to address an emotional issue head on--I braced myself for another pounding wave.

"Lisa, I want you to know that I am very proud of you.  I want you to know that I  understand why you wrote the book.  I want you to understand that I understand its message...and I want you to also know that I  know that everything you wrote in your book is true.  You have nothing to be ashamed about you, and I am not angry at you for telling the truth.  You are right about so many things you wrote in that book."

While listening to my mom speak, I could feel my knees begin to buckle.  Overcome with emotions I could not name, I crumbled to my uncomfortable couch below, and began to sob.

When my mom was through I said to her, "Wow mom--I wasn't expecting that from you.  You have no idea how absolved I feel."

"Lisa you didn't do anything wrong.  I wish I was educated.  I wish I went to college.  I wish I understood what was wrong--but I didn't.  If I could do things over, I would.  But you have to know I am proud of you."

My mother and I did not get into specifics about my book.  And oddly enough  I was aware that it was me who was having a difficult time getting below the surface--not her.

When I told my oldest daughter about the phone call...she said, "Mom aren't you happy? Don't you feel better now?"  I had a difficult time articulating the way I felt at that moment.

In the past few days I have felt numb--placid--and in an emotional state of limbo.  For much of my life, I have had to deflect pain that was unfairly hurled my way.  And as a result, I have had to grow invisible armors, not only around my heart, but around my mind as well.

When I was married, I let down those armors and tried desperately to reveal the real me to my first husband.  And sadly, he only knew how to pour vinegar on my raw skin.

When I got divorced, I grew blinders around my eyes and set my attention on fixing whatever was wrong inside of me--so I could spare my three children the type of programming that was conditioned into me.  In many ways I felt like a warrior--defending them--and defending me.

After I published the book, I found myself feeling on guard as if waiting for the next attack.  I knew much of what I wrote would not only be hard for others to believe, but it would be challenged by my family members as well.

When you have been emotionally abused, and chastised by the family you love for forty seven years--and you have been told that--that abuse and neglect is all in your head--you sort of get used to living in a defensive emotional state.

But when someone you love steps out of the shadows of your past--and in fact says to you..."Yes...I abused you...Yes...I emotionally--tortured you...and Yes...you're feelings--nor you ever mattered to me," the feelings that surface suck the air out of your lungs.

I wonder now, 'What do I do with this armor? How do I process feeling like I am seven again, and my mother is tap dancing on my soul?  How do I climb out of this emotional limbo and stop living my life feeling the necessity to defend what has been done?'

My family put me in the position in which I needed to defend my own perceptions, and now that need is gone.

I know that soon my emotional balance will restore...and parts of me I didn't even know existed will soar...

But for now I am taking it slow...because it is quite the thing to have been emotionally abused and to have the mother that you love say, "Yes...I abused you."

To My Mom and Dad--My Adult Children of Alcoholic Parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

I am composing this letter through my website, for the world to see, if of course the world cares to look.

Just so you know, my site has gotten tens of thousands of views, and will be read by many more viewers.  The internet is forever, and so will be the words that find themselves flowing out from my fingertips this morning.

May your hearts and especially your minds be open to what your little girl feels so compelled to share.

For my readers who may be confused by this post, you should probably know that my parents did not know I was writing a book about my childhood.  They did not know that I began writing my book thirteen years ago.  They did not know that the main reason I never had it published before this year, (2012) was because I knew they would be hurt by what my child's eyes had to share.

We are a codependent family.  We do not confront uncomfortable situations, nor do we speak up for ourselves.  We deny, stuff, and suppress our emotions because we are afraid of upsetting others in our lives.

My story went stuffed and denied for too long, and until my sister's husband committed suicide in September of 2011, I was unsure for how long my story would stay squelched within me.  But when my brother in law took his own life, reality unzipped my heart as if with a razor.

Another emotional impetus for me to get my book published was the fact that in August of 2010 my heart stopped beating on an operating room table.  When a routine surgery I was undergoing went terribly wrong--I quite literally bled to death.  Six transfusions, a respirator, a medically induced coma, as well as a dedicated surgical and anesthetic team pulled me through.  That, along with what my doctor's called--the pure will to survive, kept my physical being a part of this physical world.

Recently it has come to my attention that my parents have discovered my book on line, and they have been reading bits and pieces of the first three chapters that are available free on Amazon.  I have also learned that my parents are hurt by the fact that I chose to publicly speak about my childhood experiences.  This of course--is no surprise.

Perhaps the saddest note of all is the fact that neither my parents nor I have confronted one another about my book.  Although we all know it exists, typically of a codependent dynamic--we all choose to ignore the pink elephant in the room and settle for superficial cordial exchanges.

Because I know my parents are hurting, and especially my mom, this letter is for you;

To My Parents, but especially Mom,

Because I chose to write a public story about our family, I feel it is only right and fair to offer you--my parents a public acknowledgement.  Although the opening lines in my book as well as my books dedication explains clearly enough why I wrote my book the way I wrote it, I feel that perhaps now, because the fact that the book has been published is out there somewhere between all of us, that a more direct acknowledgement is needed.  And because I also believe no one in our family will ever desire to actually read my book, none of you will be able to refer back to my books dedication page as a reference and basis to help you more fully understand why I have done what I have done.  So mom, dad here it goes...

Mom, when I was a little girl I adored you more than you could ever know.  I used to look into your blue eyes and pray for a hug, a kiss on my nose or a kind word.  I tried to be good--good enough to calm you down or to make you smile--but through my child's eyes--all I could feel was not enough.  As if you lived in one world, and I lived in another, the child I was once was--felt lost, wrong, infected, and ill.  There was no bond between you and I.  There were no silly hide and seek games, or butterfly kisses goodnight.  In my world, I felt like a specimen in a dish, and they were your eyes peering down at me through a microscopic lens, as if waiting for me to move a little too far to the left or to the right.

When I was small, I wanted nothing more than to please you and make you smile.  I experienced you as one who was rushed, nervous, angry, short tempered, and like a tornado and a volcano too.  You called me names, and labeled me early on as selfish, a liar, and a psycho too.  You said I would never have any friends--I'd be a hermit the rest of my life, you said.  Once you told me you didn't have to like me--you only had to love me.  That moment has forever been carved into my soul.

Yes, when I was little I did lie to you.  I lied because I was afraid to tell the truth.  I lied because I feared your reactions, your persecution, your criticisms, and would have done anything to try and prevent a borage of verbal assaults, none of which I as a child had any ability or right to defend against.

Yes, I stayed in my room--a lot.  And that's because I wanted to stay out of your way, and because I was getting bullied at school.  Many days I spent in my room, simply because I didn't want to bump into any of the boys who used to torture me at school.  I did my best to stay out of your way, and when I was old enough, and met friends in high school--I did.  I was never home--and inside me I though that is what you preferred--me out of your way.

As I got older, I heard you murmur that you thought that all I cared about was my friends.  Way into adulthood, I heard you say things of that nature many times.  But the truth is mom, I could never make you happy, or gain your validation.  Like a carrot hung long before a horse's nose, your acceptance was something that was always out of my reach.

When I got divorced, I needed you more than you could ever know.  I was afraid--no terrified, of being alone, and taking care of my three small children on my own.  And then you and daddy were gone.  Your move out of state, cut me to my core.  I so wished I felt like you were trying to understand why I did what I did.

I didn't want to get a divorce.  I had to get a divorce.  My codependent marriage was killing me--literally.

I just wished you acknowledged that then.

It's thirteen glorious years later, and I am happy to announce that my life has turned around.  I am engaged to a wonderful, kind, stable, healthy, empathetic, responsible and handsome man--who 'sees' me, who 'hears' me and who validates me for the being I am.  But better than that, I have learned to 'see, hear, and validate' my own self.  And that happened long before my fiancee and I met.

As I mentioned above, I held onto my book for twelve years before I published it, because I worried how you all would receive it.  But after my surgery, and after J's suicide, I knew with all of me, it was time to let out all that I had for so long stuffed inside.

I know you are hurt, and unfortunately because our family does not know how to tell our emotional truths, we may never be able to discuss these issues fully.

I don't know how to say, "Mom and dad, you hurt me," and neither of you know how to say, "We never intended to hurt you, and if we did, from the bottom of our hearts, we're sorry.  We did the best we could", so we all just do what we have always done.  We skate around issues, use M as a go between us all, and stuff our emotions for one another.

You don't know how troubled I was as a teenager, because I was afraid to tell you.  You don't know what I went through when I was married, because I was afraid of your criticisms, judgements and with disappointing you.  Instead I pretended to be happy when I wasn't just like I did when I was little and when daddy would come home from work.  I stuffed my emotions because I learned early that our family considered 'feelings' inconvenient truths.

When my asthma, migraines, and panic attacks got so bad that my doctors worried I might die, my spirit was forced to look you, daddy, and my ex husband and his family in the eye, and let go.

I had to let go of needing to make you all happy.  I had to let go of trying to pretend.  I had to let go of taking care of everyone else at the expense of myself.  And if you think that was easy--you are so, so, so wrong.

When I went into therapy and my therapist told me I was codependent, I was confused. But the more I opened myself up to the idea, and the more I learned about codependency the more I understood what was wrong in our family.

And more importantly--what was wrong with me.

You should know that the greatest thing I learned about codependency and Adult Children of Alcoholics like yourself is--that it's not 'us, or me or you' that is wrong--it's the disease of alcoholism that has affected and infiltrated our ways of perceiving ourselves, our worlds and others.

Alcoholism hurt you mom and daddy too.  You are both ACo A, and in spite of your denial about how you two have been affected by it--you have, and so has our family.

I know with all of my heart you two did the best you could--and if you read my book--you would learn how I was able to transcend my own childhood wounds so I could get to a point where I could truly see you and daddy as children, and understand how much of an amazing job you did with us compared to what your parents gave you.

Mom--I know  you didn't drink because you wanted to show us differently.  And with all of my being--I publicly thank you for being a better mother than your own.

I appreciate your sacrifices.  I know you cleaned our house so masterfully because you lived in filth.  And I know that was your way of loving and taking care of us.

I am so thankful for all the dentist appointments you took us on.  Our mouths were a great priority of yours, and you made sure daddy spent money to get us the surgery we needed--and I know that sacrifice was great.

I know you tried in your own way to please me--and I am sorry the adolescent child I was--got cold and shut down.  But please know--that if I hadn't grown that armor--I probably would not be here today.

Mom, I have watched you manage a home, a business, a husband, and three children all while cooking great meals, and sheet rocking walls too.  I have watched you go out in your mid forties and secure a full time government job, when daddy went out of business.  I watched you research bible studies and turn pastor's on their heads with your inquisitiveness.  I have watched you care for the sick, and elderly, and have seen you cry while praising God.  I have seen you smile, no matter what life has thrown at you, and have marveled at your resilience.

And today I want you to know, that in spite of it all, I am proud that you are my mother.

My book isn't about you and its not about me.  It's about helping other people who have been affected by alcoholism--understand.

It's about helping other little kids like me, like I was--heal.

It's about helping ACoA moms calm down--turn within--and learn how to be gentle with themselves and their children.

It's about women who are in enabling marriages--who fear their husband's wrath learn how to honor themselves.

It's about helping confused people, who hate themselves and don't know why understand that at their core--in spite of what has ever been done or said to them--they are worthy.

It's about teaching families how to--forgive--understand--unconditionally.

It's about helping others learn how to stop lying to themselves--and how to begin telling their own truth.

It's about teaching the world--one word at a time--how to find inner peace--and ultimately learn to love 'self'.

Mom, you have taught me more than you realize.  You did your job.  You were a far greater mother than your own--you have nothing to be ashamed about.   You have nothing to feel guilty about.  You--like me--like all beings--made mistakes--and that is forgivable.

But it was my job to learn from your mistakes--and to do better.

And my books, and my website, and my Skype sessions, and all the other work I do--is part of the way I have chosen to do better.

I love you...

Lisa

Need To Be Needed--Confuse Love With Pity?

When you are the child who has been raised in a home whose basic system does not allow for the ability to express emotions freely, life becomes a maze of confusion.

When children are programmed to accept the 'no talk' rule as a way of surviving in a home, it becomes next to impossible to be able to navigate a healthy future adult life without unnecessary drama.  Children who have been conditioned to deny their realities, because the adults in their lives are unable to confront reality, they are taught to quite literally cut themselves off from self.  As a result children from denial based homes suffer incredible bouts of low self esteem.

Whether you are an adult who has survived an emotionally abusive home, or a child still stuck inside one, the good news is  you are not alone, and even better--there is a way out.

Understanding first and foremost that it is not normal to not allow others to express their emotions.  It is not normal to yell when someone says they are in pain, and it is not normal to ignore a child when they are upset, or aching emotionally.

When you are a product of a denial based home you struggle to understand what normal is.  Because you have no idea what healthy relating looks or feels like, your ideas about love and relationships with others is skewed.

If you know that--consider yourself lucky.  Plenty of people die never understanding that their problems in life were due to their faulty programming and conditioning.

Knowledge truly is power.  If you are the grandchild of an alcoholic, or drug addict, compulsive gambler, workaholic, or so on--that means your parents were ignored and emotionally neglected as children.  That would also mean there is a very high likelihood that you have suffered because your parents simply didn't know any better.

Once again--there's good news. There is a better way.

You can break the cycles of emotional battery--and denial--and heal the lack of intimacy and trust in your family.  But first, you must learn to stop hurting yourself.

Begin by validating the pain you have experienced, and know with every fiber of your being that you deserve to be happy and peaceful.

Learning all you can about healing shame and guilt, as well as dysfunctional family syndromes help arm you against the ignorance you will find in your immediate families.  If your immediate family is sick, they will more than likely get angry because you are daring to think and do differently than what they do.

Below is a link to a website that outlines clearly the characteristics of ACoA.

Please note that alcohol and drugs do not have to be a part of a denial based family system in order for abuse to be taking place.

Read on and empower your Self.

Namaste...

http://www.usc.edu/programs/cwfl/assets/pamphlets/aca.pdf

Adult Children of Alcoholics--A Place To Heal: Sex--A Symptom of Identity--Not Our True Identity

Adult Children of Alcoholics--A Place To Heal: Sex--A Symptom of Identity--Not Our True Identity

When You Are An Adult Child of an Alcoholic

When you are the adult child of an alcoholic, or the adult child of an adult child of an alcoholic, or if you are the child that has come from a denial based home, life is a frenzy of confusion.  You 'feel' and you think things, but the adults in your life cannot and do not validate what you feel or how you feel.  This lack of emotional validation is interpreted by our souls in a harrowing sense.  Our inability to connect to the ones who love us, make us feel 'cut off' from others, which in turns minimizes, and in some cases completely cuts us off from our own selves.

This void within, sends us on a psychological and emotional quest to prove that we are in fact worthy.  We cater to those we love in a heroic attempt to gain others approval.  We are in essence chasing after the love we did not receive from our self absorbed caretakers--but of course we adult children of the addicted and narcissistic do not know that consciously.

We than presume it is 'we' who are faulty.  It is 'us' who is to blame for the sickening emptiness we feel from within.  Our lives are chaotic and we attract similar personalities into our adult lives, and project our inner worlds onto others.  We attract those  who are unable to love us, cater to them, enable them, and then feel victimized when we finally come to realize they refuse to be who we want them to be.

And then we divorce these people, kick them to the curbs, complain and whine about them--we then attract the same personalities into our lives all over again.

We enable, cater, deny, and tell ourselves this time it will be different.  But in time, we learn we were wrong...and like all codependents do--we fall into the same cycle of victimization once more.

We complain, cry, whine, and blame others for not being who we tried to manipulate them into being.

Still unable to see 'self' we fail to recognize that we are the common denominator.  We are the attractor of our circumstances.  We enabled to gain validation...and in so doing righteously demanded and expected others to be who our inner lost child needed them to be.

We codependents have eyes that are tuned into what others do, and what others say, far much greater than we are tuned into what we do, or what we say, or how we react, or how we think.  We believe in our victimization and expect others to heal us in ways they are not responsible for, and when they do not meet our expectations, we blame them, curse them, throw temper tantrums, or collapse into feelings of victimization and douse our already charred bodies with heavy bouts of low self esteem inner dialogue.

When you are an adult child of an alcoholic, narcissistic, or codependent, you are not taught to take responsibility for your emotional self.  You are taught to deny, to pretend, and to make believe.

The ability to pretend was useful when we were children.  It made us feel safe.  It gave us something to hold onto.  But if we are to heal as adults, we must take ownership over what we feel, what we do, and how we treat others today.

Yes, it was our parents responsibilities to help us love 'self' and yes we were victimized whether passively or aggressively.  Yes, we were abandoned and taught to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't. But if we are to ever create the life experiences we desire from within, we must stop all finger pointing and blaming, and learn to heal our own 'self'.

And when we learn to love 'self'--and when we learn to honor 'self'--and when we learn to be gentle with 'self'--and when we learn to accept 'self'--it becomes no longer necessary to enable, cater, pretend, chastise, or manipulate a sense of validation from others.  

Suddenly our relationships transform, and like butterflies being sprung from our wombs, we open up to life on our own terms, and land where we feel the most safe...

Relax, enjoy--take deep breaths--everything is alright--smile--let go--we're only passing through...

Namaste sister and brothers...namaste...You are loved...