So life is slow, still. Waiting on an approval (or denial) of a waiver for Joshua's eyes. But this post isn't about that, it's about his birthday and my anxieties, which is coming up soon. So before I say why I'm anxious on his birthday, I'll explain the background of my life.
First of all, everything about my mom's past says it's a miracle her, my sisters and I are alive. She was hit by a car when she was eleven, and it did serious damage. She can't read a book without migraines, she can't pop her neck, her wrist is aching, and her back is damaged permanently. So shocked she lived through that. Then she lived through having an alcoholic father, who wasn't sober until the last ten years of his life. The cycle didn't end there, she married an alcoholic (she didn't know until they moved in together). No one ever talks about their marriage and time together (I want to say it was from 1989-1994). My real dad's mom makes it seem like he was just ill and not there for us.
It's so much more than that. He was an abusive drunk. He stalked my mom when she first left him. We moved so many times in one year. I went to about six to eight different elementary schools in first grade, until finally we rooted in the house I lived in for fourteen years. But my real dad makes it seem as though my mom was a cheating, horrible parent. But I look at this way: who raised Danielle and me (his two children)? Who took care of us, who bathed us, who fed us, who made sure we were going to school? And no one ever talks about it. But there is a letter from my paternal grandma (who I love dearly, she's the only grandparent I've really spent any time with), apologizing to my mom for all the years of taking my real dad's side.
On top of this, I remember my mom telling me of a story of how my real dad, in a drunken rage, wrote 'slut' on one of her sweaters with a cigarette. Danielle and I were going through our shed one day, looking for something, and we came across it. It was the first valid thing that told us he wasn't a good guy. Then he wound up in our local newspaper as "City's Most Wanted," for several DUIs and a hit-and-run. He went to jail for those when they finally got him. DUIs meant he drank, frequently. So at the age of like, nine, I chose to stick to my mom's stories, believing her.
He's now sober, but I don't take his crap. I know my mom's sisters and brothers weren't the best of people. But they were 'hatched,' how my mom puts it. My maternal grandma worked three jobs until she was diagnosed terminally with Multiple Myeloma, a blood cancer. My maternal grandpa was an alcoholic. They had no role models. But now they're straight, respectable people. I love both my families. But when my real dad decides to complain and say bad stuff about my mom's family, I won't take it. So even though he's sober, we fight. I'm almost 21, I am not spoon-fed lies, like he thinks. I hear stories, make connections, see validations, and wish my families spoke more about those five years.
So alcohol has affected my life. A lot. I am also an anxious, neurotic person, whether or not people who see me regularly realize this (I know Joshua knows). So now "am I selfish or just respected?" Joshua's 21st birthday is fast approaching. His family is what I assume is the typical family. At 18, Papa (his grandpa) took him gambling for his first time. I know his mom will want to be the one to give him his first drink as a 21 year old, and take him to his first bar. But what about me? I am, first of all, a couple of months younger than him, so I can't go to the bar. That's fine, I'd babysit and use his laptop.
But that's not what'll bug me. I'll be sitting there, knowing he's drinking, and when he gets home I'll have to smell the alcohol on his breath. And may even have to deal with him being impaired. I told myself when I was younger I would never marry an alcoholic. I was lucky to meet Joshua, someone who doesn't seem too thrilled to drink. But I know he is almost 21. We had a discussion, and he gave me an ultimatum, to make sure I at least tried it (knowing my anxieties of alcohol). If he didn't drink on his birthday, I'd drink on mine. I agreed to this. But I don't know how to take this. Am I respected for my wishes to not want to be around him when he drinks? Or am I just selfish and he's aiding that selfishness? I also don't know how his mom will feel about me keeping him from a first she wanted to share with him. I just want to not be around drinking. I don't want to smell it on him. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.
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