A Journey With Cerebral Palsy

I have always had an interesting relationship with alcohol. Never has my appetite for drinking became a problem. As it takes place about a handful of times each year. The interesting part of my story with drinking doesn’t even come from me, at all. It originates from being exposed to alcohol as a child and adolescent. There has been a term for the implication of my upbringing around alcohol. The situation makes me an adult child of an alcoholic. Something I hadn’t realized until recently, were the implications of that fact. Like my years spent in denial about a great number of challenges. This was another item I had stored away. Thinking the exposure during my formative years probably wasn’t a big deal. During the years of working with a psychologist, my looking into the concept of ACA had periodically been suggested. The best-selling book Adult Children of Alcoholics was even purchased. However, each time my reading began, it stopped within days of opening the book. There was something inside I struggled to handle. The fact of being around someone who drank too often, wasn’t up for debate. I believed, I understood the behavior of my family member. Like so many other things in life, I wanted to believe the descriptions didn’t apply to my life. Other people might be adult children of alcoholics, but I wasn’t one. My problems revolved around having cerebral palsy, not the experiences of my childhood. Or, maybe it was a little of both. 

Being around alcohol has almost always been a frightful experience, in my world. The strange thing I’m learning, has been my draw to people who drink. Throughout my life, I have gravitated to befriending people who probably drink a little too much. Even though being around it has often been scary. Breaking the habit of being near those who drink often, has been challenging. Some of those friends, closest in my life, often find themselves intoxicated. It has taken years for me to start pulling back from those relationships. I’m guessing because the chaos was too much of a pull. It seems to become intoxicating simply to be surrounded by that kind of behavior. I had gotten used to it as being normal throughout my youth. By the time college came around, friends who drank frequently, were mainstays in my social circle. Which, might not be unusual for the college life. But, the heavy drinking in my circles didn’t subside following my college years. I chose to cling onto the kind of chaos frequent drinking provided. Even though, I was almost always the person who did the driving. Sitting at the table, slowly nursing on one drink, or having a night of soda. I clamored to be surrounded by the free-flowing alcohol. After all, who else was going to make curtain everyone got home safe. It wasn’t about being a good Samaritan, as much as, me trying to fill an emptiness in my ego. Sure, I wanted to keep people safe, but I hungered for the chaos of being around drinking. It has been a challenging habit to extinguish.

Much of my life growing up can be characterized as being out of control. So, I’m beginning to realize I struggle with controlling behaviors. To make up for the scary pictures of my childhood, I look for control in my adult life. Which, by the way, hasn’t served me well, to this point. Hints, the search for avenues of healing the situation. I have tried becoming open to other ideas, as life has progressed. Hoping to get past the idea of having all the answers. The denial and excuse making, which have painted most of my world, have been challenging to relinquish. As my thoughts, have always been that cerebral palsy was the problem for everything. Starting to realize, there might be commonality in my challenges, has been helpful. As I finally have found the courage to read the book on ACA. I find myself relating to the stories inside the cover and thinking about my own troubling experiences. The ones that had been pushed down so far, denied so vehemently, they had almost been forgotten. The thing is, those stories, like the ones told in the book, help me understand some challenges of mine, today. They leave me lessening the blame of myself and my disability. While, helping me to shed more light on the direction for finding a better world for myself. Among the scariest of those memories, riding with a drunk driver. 

The moments seemed to happen after having been at a party. A place where friends of my parents would gather. The parties happened for all kinds of occasions. It could be the birthday of a child, or a party for any particular holiday. Two things felt surely to take place during these parties. Alcohol would flow like water and I would be fearful of the ride home. Hoping by some miracle, my father would choose not to drink too much. Of course, my fantasy of an alcoholic choosing to decrease his number of beers, was impossible. Especially, surrounded by his friends, who also seemed to think of beer as water. So, the parties would roll on into the night. I would be doing my best to play with the other kids. Trying not to think about the drinking happening with my dad. Hoping the car ride home, which was often at least an hour, would not be frightening. I was always wishing the party would go on just a little longer. The more time that went by before getting into the car, the better. When we would say goodbyes, and walk out to the car, fear would begin in earnest. I remember sitting in the backseat of the SUV and peering out the window. Not really feeling the flood of anxiety until we hit the freeway. As the car moved at faster speeds, I remember feeling the car, speed along, into the darkness. Watching intently, with the hope that he could remain within the lines. That us, or anyone else, wouldn’t get hurt on that night. 

The fear of riding down a darkened freeway with an intoxicated driver is simply one example. There were more, growing up in a world of little order. The memories help me understand my fight for control. The child in the backseat of that car had no control. I was in fear from the time I loaded into the car for the ride to the party. Not only was I not in control, I couldn’t trust the person who was. Who had the knowledge to understand the implications of driving after a night of drinking. There was no way in which to be his child and feel safe. Not emotionally or physically. Which doesn’t bring into consideration another variable to the situation. Of all the stories from the book and all the emotion I can relate with. The question circles around my mind about how my disability plays into all the learning. One thing does seem to be true, having an alcoholic parent makes a child feel out of control. I also understand, having cerebral palsy, and the physical challenges that come with the disability. Which also, leave me feeling physically out of control. The combination of the two, seem to cause a big confused mess of emotion inside my world. My goals have always been in doing my best to untangle the mess I feel inside. To make attempts of understanding the impact of both circumstance on my world, moving forward. Hopefully, the continued search will help me, and someone else out there, as well. 

The scary night did one positive thing for my life. The emotions have kept me from climbing behind the wheel without the thought of my drinking. They turned me into the designated driver on countless nights out. There became a feeling of pride inside of me, for being the one who got people home safely. Sometimes, I think about becoming an Uber driver, just to experience that emotion of keeping people safe. I would always watch myself when going out. Limiting myself to one or two drinks, and being the driver meant not having to explain why. Even if I really couldn’t articulate the reason myself. The way I seem to relate to alcohol today, feels sad. Because, all throughout my life, I haven’t known how to think about it without fear. The fear of the unknown surrounding drinking. What it might be doing to the people I watch drinking, or what it might do to me, if I drink without fear. I hope for the day when the thought of alcohol or the sight of drinking doesn’t bring anxiety. Though, in my short time of reading the book, and exploring my emotions. I don’t know if my fear around the substance will ever completely evaporate.