Research

I come home from school each day and I go to my room…why? Because it’s the only place I feel safe. I throw my book bag down, lock the door, put in my headphones, and try to drown in the music. Six o’clock hits…he’s home. The banging starts. First I hear the door slam and the screaming at my mom begins. The refrigerator door slams and I can hear my dad yelling at the TV. The refrigerator door slams again…and again…and again until finally it happens. The banging on my door seems to not end...I start rocking back and forth with my legs pulled to my chest; the tears feel like acid running down my face…”why me?” The door opens and he stumbles across the room; each step shakes the floor. The nightly game begins…

“Aw what’s wrong?” he says gently, as the tears start coming faster. He grabs my arm.

“Answer me, you little shit!” He screams in my face, the left over alcohol on his breath makes me feel nauseated. And just like that…he slaps me across the face; you would think the sting wouldn’t hurt as bad anymore but it gets worse every time.

            When he’s done he walks out leaving me there shaking and crying. The thought of death comes up every day now. So I sit here with bruises covering my arms, red marks on my neck and face, and here I am. This is my life. A soul trapped in a damaged body.

            So the question is: does an alcoholic affect the lifestyle of their child? To many readers that may have been an extreme case but it is 2013 and the reality is this happens daily among many of the people in your/your kids’ classes; yes it is a harsh reality but alcoholism is a popular “trait” now. Many reasons for alcoholism begin with the person’s happiness level; did they just lose their job? Their companion? A death? Maybe it even originated at the beginning of life…aka from their parents. Alcohol is a substance used to “forget” things or “take away the pain” as many people would say. The hardest thing about alcohol is it is a drug and yes just like any other drug, you can get addicted to the feeling, not addicted to the buzz but addicted to the numbness you feel when you are drunk.

            Alcoholism is important because you may not even know it but to many people it’s a “self curing” drug; what I mean by that is many people use it because they think it helps them, but in reality, blacking out will not make that person come back, or get your job back, it is only a mask for what you are truly trying to hide. So why is this important to me? It is important because I have had multiple people walk in and out of my life because of alcoholism; earlier this year I got a job at LA Fitness where I became extremely close with a few of my coworkers but the one that stuck out to me the most was Zach. He is this extremely quiet 19 year old that no one talked to, a little background information on him- He moved here about a year ago, he went to Basic training for the Army, and close to the nicest and most hardworking person I have ever met, he would drop anything to make sure I’m alright. Earlier this week he came in to work-out while I was working. So I checked him in and waited until we closed. Lately when we have been closing, people have been staying extra late and Zach didn’t want to leave me alone so he waited to walk me to my car. So we start talking and I start locking up when a van pulls up…they were there to do carpet. So we sit and wait on the guy to finish, and I asked Zach what he was doing that night.

 

 

“Probably going to go drink,” he replied. As usual we get caught up in why. For me I don’t understand why anyone would want to go drink by their self. Then again why does anyone do anything? Simply because it makes them “happy.” For Zach it is because of a girl. This girl is not just some ordinary teenage, 2-month relationship, but a mere four years. At nineteen Zach was ready to dedicate his life to this girl and propose, when he moved to Ohio she cut off all communication with him, within a week he discovered she had a new boyfriend.

            So why does this matter? Well the story went a little bit deeper, Zach’s dad was an alcoholic and left Zach’s mom when he was young, then tried to revive the relationship and came back in Zach’s life. Remember the story at the beginning? That was a reality for Zach. Would I have known that? Let alone any of the people I work with that were judging him for not trying to talk to anyone? No. Zach has been through hell and back, but the thing is he tried to get out of that life by joining the Army; unfortunately when he came back, the person that was supposed to be there through everything left him and he latched onto his dad’s ways of feeling “numb.” Does one story make me believe all children of alcoholics will eventually turn to drinking? Of course not, but it will ALWAYS have an impact on each family member. Many times you will hear an alcoholic say, “I’m not hurting anyone but myself” but what about the little girl watching you, when you are supposed to be helping her with homework, going to dance recitals, or simply just tucking her in?

            So what are some numbers? A rough seventy-six million Americans have exposed their families to alcoholism, so what does that mean?  Twenty-six point eight million of those people are children. (Brown) The effects on children may not be as severe as Zach’s but children learn from their parents and if the parents look to alcohol as a way “out” then the chances of their children looking at alcohol the same way increases more than someone’s parents that only drink on occasion. The way for an alcoholic or a child looking to an alcoholic parent, to overcome alcoholism or accept your parents’ mistakes works the same way: learn to accept that the pain they are feeling is a pain from the past and only exists if you let it. (Gravitz)

            Alcoholism has the potential to ruin a person (especially a child) life; if in any way you can save that person from the need to feel “numb,” do it- you might just save a life.

 

A Place Called Self: Women, Sobriety and Radical Transformation. Stephanie Brown. (Hazelden, 2004)

Guide to Recovery, A Book for Adult Children of Alcoholics. H. Gravitz and J. Bowden. (Health Communications, 1985)

 

 

Response

Happiness

One of the hardest things in life is knowing that the most important person in your life is unhappy, and there is nothing you can do about it. Happiness is not something you can buy, something you can give, and most importantly it is not something you "make" someone; and that's where the struggles begin.

"Do you promise you're happy?"

"Yes, I promise," Alex said. His hair messy from work, his blue eyes gleaming, yet sleepy, I kissed his head and whispered, "Goodnight." 

Pretty believable, right? Wrong. At six, the alarm goes off for Alex to go to work and I hear the daily groan of getting up. At seven-thirty, I get the text saying he's at work; around noon I get the text saying how unhappy he is and how terrible work is going. So is he still happy? 

In my opinion when you are in your late teens and early twenties, it is a time of discovery and could easily be described as some peoples "best years of their lives." So why do so many people deal with part-time jobs (that they hate), friends that only bring them down, or an abusive boyfriend or girlfriend? Society has an image of "happiness" for these teens and people in their early twenties; if I could attach a video it would be "Project X." The party scene, the late drunken nights, the hook-ups, and that tight "clique" of people that you spend every day with; and what do people crave? They crave those endless nights with a drink in their hand and not being able to remember the next day, "solo-cup" Instagram pictures, and racking up how many people they have hooked up with... That's happiness, right? 

If you ask Alex, happiness could easily be described as working on his car, going mud-running, or seeing a clear result come back from his moms scan. Which is what happiness is, it is not the same for everyone, I like to read and spend time with my family and friends (no, that does not involve my head in a toilet filled with puke) so once again, why do people continue to live the life their living, if they are unhappy? 

If you ask around, I guarantee the majority of people will say they won't quit their "terrible" job because they need money, they won't drop the friends that bring them down because they have been their friends for "forever", and that abusive boyfriend/girlfriend is actually a "good" person. It's all a mask, because so many people are too afraid to step out of their comfort zone and take a leap towards a good (happy) life. 

Remember being little and being so outgoing? In most pictures you have of yourself you are probably smiling and clung to your parents or your favorite toy. It's funny how that smile fades so quickly as you grow up, and those toys become painted plastic thrown in your closet, and you start having disagreements with your parents and those hugs and laughs  lead to slamming doors and screaming. Growing up is part of happiness and finding yourself, you have to remember to cling to what is most important in your life, just as you did when you were young. Unfortunately a lot of people will not understand this until later in life, or in some cases when it is too late. So do those parties really matter? Or those people you slept with in college?  Yes they are memories, but what about the people that get you through the rough days or have supported you through even your dumbest decisions? 

In my opinion happiness is hearing "I love you" and knowing someone means it, looking through old pictures to remind me to keep myself grounded and what really matters, and most importantly, being able to see and talk to the few people that continuously make my world go around; I am extremely blessed with all that God has given me and I think if more people saw the good things before the bad things "happiness" wouldn't be so far away. 

Narrative

As a sophomore in high school I was faced with many complications especially coming from a private school. Walking into Delaware Hayes, I was terrified not because of the stereotypes but because I really had no idea what I was walking into…

As I walked through the second story hallway with my backpack glued to my back, my palms sweaty, and my heart pounding from anxiety; I look up and hear, “You’re lucky you’re pregnant, bitch!” coming from down the hall. Now seeing this girl come towards me, my first instinct was to turn and run, not because I was the “pregnant bitch” but because I was the new girl and my old high school, daily prayers said over the announcements, and hearing those words from the opposite side of the hallway was definitely a shocker to me. I went through the first quarter mostly by keeping my head down and praying to hear that two-thirty bell so I could run to get on the bus and finally be in my safe haven: Home.

I was introduced to our local youth group my eighth grade year, so it was no surprise that I stayed with it. I was on the “Leadership” team and being at Church and going to youth group every Sunday night was just about the only thing that felt right in my life. Being surrounded by people that genuinely cared about me was what I needed and they were so filled with happiness, hope, and joy…not hatred, fakeness, and lies.

April of my sophomore year I went on a Youth Group Retreat. By April I started having doubts about my faith and my life; little did I know, a retreat was what I needed. I carpooled with two of my guy friends to Camp Otyokwah. It was about two hours away and the car ride seemed to fly by, not because we were “having fun” but because I was dreading spending two nights in cold, dark woods, in gross bunk beds, and singing the same stupid songs over and over again.

Here it was, the one cabin (where around seventy people were staying) was about a mile away from the “lodge” where we would have our Church service, our stupid skits, and most importantly: where the food was. I remember thinking, “You have got to be kidding me.” Being a teenager, obviously, I was mad about turning my phone off for a weekend; but now I have to walk a mile to eat?!

The first night we settled into our rooms then met in the lodge; we broke into our groups and talked about the agenda for the weekend. After we ate and had a few talks about expectations for the weekend the CORE team put together a skit. The skit involved one person walking aimlessly around eight people dressed in all black holding signs such as “drugs”, “sex”, “alcohol”, etc. The hooded people represented sins, but to me it related so much to my life, I walk down the halls of Hayes and I am faced with these “sins” daily. As the person walked to each “sin” she took the sin and hung it around her neck, showing that she had committed those sins. At the end of the person fell to the floor as if her soul was hopeless, but a man came out dressed in all white and took the sins off of her neck; as if freeing her from her sins. The man was God.

I don’t know why that impacted me the way it did. I know a lot of people did not have the same feelings about it as I did, but I wish that everyone could have felt how I did.

The next day we went to boating and did a lot of obstacle courses that did not test our agility but also our faith. That night is when everything really hit me. We had a bonfire and classically sang songs, ate marshmallows, and had a really good time. After the bonfire we were handed candles and led up to the highest hill on the campsite. We walked there in complete silence and as we approached the top of the hill you could just feel the sense of love. In the middle of the wet grass was a huge cement cross, not standing but laying on the ground; and we were told to light our candles and put them on the cross then lay down and look up. I did what I was told, and I will never get over the feeling that I felt when I laid down on the wet, itchy, cold grass that night. I looked up to see the clearest sky I have ever seen in my life, and right then every doubt I had ever had, was completely forgotten, not because I was dumbfounded by the beauty of the stars but because I was home, I knew that everything that had happened in my life led up to that point of me laying there surrounded by people who cared about me and who would do anything just for me to crack a smile.

I don’t think that life is about having an amazing job, having tons of friends, or even saying “no” to taunting sins; but maybe it is about nights like that night on the hill, when you can genuinely say, “Everything is okay” and know that all of those “pointless” things that you stressed about so much, such as someone yelling down the hall, switching schools, or even having doubts about what you believe in, led you to that perfect moment and without all of those bad things, you would not be where you are today; at least I know I would not be.

Welcome

My name is Hanna and this blog is created for ENGL 1100 at CSCC. I'm a huge family person, and I love to read; mainly because when I was growing up my mom and I would read together every night. The one book I remember wanting to re-read over and over again was Because of Winn-Dixie. Now I am fascinated with books such as Tuesdays with Morrie, The Art of Racing in the Rain, and The Five People You Meet in Heaven.