Recovery radically changed how he celebrates Father’s Day. I used to think Father’s Day was about waiting for my children to shower me with drawings, or words that would make me feel like a good father. I thought it was a day to sit back and receive—to be told that all my sacrifices were noticed, my sleepless nights appreciated, my worrying understood.
Dear ESSAY, in my addiction I crossed every line I could imagine. Ultimately, I even sexually abused my own daughter. I was quickly arrested because she bravely told her school counselor the very next morning. I was convicted and served a sentence.
For many years in my adult life, even after coming to SA, I did not enjoy the year end holiday season. Even after celebrating Christmas seasons with my son and my ex-wife, I have struggled with a sour and grumpy attitude about the whole experience. During the last five to ten years of my “sober” marriage with my current wife, my dark holiday cloud at times brought her to tears.
Dear Essay, The theme for this issue is Sobriety in the Holidays. I’d like to share a holiday memory.
I was nervous, well no, anxious, afraid. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but it seemed to have something to do with the fact that it was Halloween night.
Sexaholism drove my view of holidays in the past. I hated them; they always took the focus away from my misery. When I couldn’t have my misery, I surely gave it away freely. Everyone around me was irritable, restless and discontent!
My wife and I were putting away the Christmas tree. It’s an artificial tree with lights wired into it, and we like the way it looks in the front window at night.
Thanksgiving 2010 was a sunny day in San Diego, and I had nowhere to go for dinner. This scene was scary. It fed into my history of isolating and living inside my head, away from family and other relationships. I usually made plans to be with friends on holidays, but it didn’t work out that year.
The holiday season can be the most difficult time of year for many of us, myself included, but it is important to remember that we truly are blessed. Blessed with friends who care about what happens in our lives—friends who care about us in spite of our past, not because of it. If I have learned nothing else during my time in SA, I have learned that I never need to be alone again.
Well, it happened again. I sat waiting in the parking lot because the person who has the key did not show up. Perhaps someone has decided that, since this was a holiday, everyone would be busy with family and would not get to a meeting. I did not get that message.
