His (their) drinking continued. Occasionally he would beat on her or slap her, and of course, she was still on restriction. Thorough restriction. In her room with no TV, no phone restriction. She did have a small old 1940’s AM radio, however. She would stay up late and listen to the two hour jazz program that would come on at midnight. That’s how she developed her love for jazz. She also had a very CLEAN room since she spent so much time there.
Sometimes she was kept from eating dinner with the family. Mother would bring her a small plate with a measured amount of food on it and a glass of skim milk. She would be allowed to use the bathroom and then back to her room. Youngest Little Brother would feel sorry for her ( He was only five) and bring her a dirty hand full of crushed cookies he had saved from his lunch.
She became desperately depressed and started taking large quantities of aspirin. Once she took a whole bottle hoping that somehow she would just go to sleep and not wake up. But all it did was make her sick with a terrible stomach ache all night. Another time…………..she felt so desperate that she actually tried slitting her wrists. It was a lame attempt and all she really did was make some little slash marks on her wrists with a dull razor. Her Father came in and saw what she was doing and said, “Oh, great.” and then walked out.
Shortly after that he came home drunk one night, learned that she had been sneaking out again and took his belt to her. He lashed her again and again. She ran away. He had her arrested as incorrigible. The sheriff told him, “If she stays in Juvy, she will learn more than you would want her to know. She’ll learn about drugs and scams and stealing AND prostitution. You better take her home and lighten up. She is almost eighteen after all.”
On her eighteenth birthday, her mother packed up all of her things: clothes, Beatle records, books, etc., put it all out on the front porch, and locked the door. She fought through many years of trying to balance work with college – no parental support. Cut off. The Favorite One got a new car, a full college ride, and a big deal wedding.
It isn’t surprising that after all the issues regarding dieting that she developed an eating disorder. Throughout her adult years, she still constantly fought the urge to over eat. She pretty much decided that the only way she would ever be able to get even with her mother for putting her through the alcoholic experience is to die before she does. (It doesn’t look like this will happen, as her mom lies in hospice at this moment).
The main question that still rings in her head is, “How can I love myself since I am such a terrible person?” Her father really was successful implanting her with self-deprecation and self-loathing. She tries to tell herself that she is a good girl and that everything he said about her was false. But he did say some good things too.
She loved talking with him about politics and show business. He told a family friend that she was actually his favorite child. She could always shine in public performance and she could really belt out a song. As a young adult she worked out like a demon, dieted, and lost weight, but even at her smallest Father said she still needed to lose twenty-five pounds.
She was determined that her two lovely children would not suffer the events of a dysfunctional family. She has a long term relationship with a wonderful man (an Eagle Scout) who has loved her unconditionally through all the weight and health trials. Her children are grown and successfully dealing with their own life issues and yet, sometimes she is still the unhappy thirteen year old child of an alcoholic locked in her room crying and hungry for something she cannot ever have…the approval of her father.
Her father (the alcoholic) is dead, her mother (the enabler) is still in denial, her sister (the favorite one) still doesn’t approve, the oldest younger brother (the clown) has turned into a politically conservative Christian Fundamentalist, and the other younger brother (the forgotten one) is still fighting addiction himself.
Even in death the alcoholic still controls the dynamics of this family. The Eldest Daughter (the scapegoat) still can’t feel comfortable at family gatherings. She has clung to her husband’s family at holiday times because they are so normal and loving.
Alcohol is the worst drug in the world. It affects the lives of all of us. You can see it in the statistics involving child abuse, spousal abuse, drug addiction, unexplained absences from work, reduced productivity on the job, Monday morning blues, low self-esteem, reduced expectations, increasing budgets for special education programs, homelessness, psychological problems….. the list goes on and on….
Superman is dead. Dad’s ashes sit in mother’s dining room in a yellow porcelain urn. Mom jokingly refers to him as “Old Yeller”. Her hurt is gone now and she only remembers the forty years of love they shared. Eldest Daughter’s life continues to be colored by the the constant desire to want to please her father and knowing that really no matter what she does, that costume won’t fit her… ever. She cries to herself, “In spite of all I really miss Superman.”
(First published 11/4/12)
