The week of February 12^th marks the Children of Addiction Awareness week, recognized in the USA, Finland, Germany, India, Ireland, Korea, Slovenia, Switzerland, and Great Britain. This campaign, led by The National Association for Children of Addiction (NACoA), is intended to break the silence around children affected by parental addiction and offer them a chance to become children of promise.  According to information from NACoA’s Website, one in four children lives in a family impacted by parental addiction, and these children are the most vulnerable population to develop addiction at some point in their lives. 

“One of the Lucky Ones” by Heather Gill

When I heard the phrase “Children of Addiction” I knew it was time to open up and share a little bit about my story, as a child of addiction. The timing seemed perfect, I happen to be turning 33 next week, and that is a huge milestone for me. I have officially lived longer than my Daddy. I am heading into my 21^st year without him, and I have finally reached a point where my memories of him are no longer accompanied by sadness.

I didn’t lose my Daddy to addiction, instead I had to compete with his addiction while I had him. Our relationship was complex and incredibly simple at the same time. I loved my Daddy with my whole heart and I rarely questioned forgiving him. He could leave and come back as he pleased as far as I was concerned as long as I got to see him eventually.  My grandparents filled the role he was supposed to be playing for me and my little brother, and they loved both of our mother’s. Everyone around me made it possible for me to love my Dad with my whole heart, while surviving without him.

Somewhere around eight years old, he started to become more consistent, and even started to take some positive steps forward. But the truth is, he ran out of time to get it right. In the spring of 2003, at 32 years old, with a 12-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son, he was diagnosed with cancer. We had one last Father’s Day with Hospice, and he passed away the next morning. 

The weekend my parents had planned to tell me that he had cancer, was the first time in my entire life that I was truly angry with my Dad. I was 12 years old, navigating being a preteen, friendships, school and sports. There was an all-night skate that weekend, and I could not understand why I was being forced to go see my Dad, when he got to pick and choose when he was a Dad. When we got to his house, and sat down at a plastic picnic table outside, they laid it out for me – Dad has cancer. This translated to “Daddy is leaving again, and this time he won’t be coming back.”  I spent the entire month I had left with him fighting a silent rage, that I spent years hating myself for.

His death was of course a trauma in itself, but his life left me with questions about him and myself that no one could answer for me. His inability to put fatherhood above his need to be intoxicated destroyed myself worth. By 13 I had tried my first cigarette and had self-harmed more than once, both becoming habits I struggled with well into adulthood. I started to look for him in any and all male relationships in my life. I sought out those who were struggling with trauma or substance use, and I tried desperately to save them. This need to save others from his fate, put me in toxic and abusive situations, and further eroded what little self-love I had managed to hold onto. I was angry, self-destructive, and unbelievably heartbroken for 20 years. I couldn’t heal, even with years of therapy, and hard work, I could not come to terms with the life his addiction set me and my brother up for.

When he was alive, and able to be in my life, we bonded over music. Garth Brooks and Guns’n’Roses played in the background of nearly every moment together. While we spent Friday nights signing on a barbie karaoke machine. I am beyond grateful for his choice in music, and as I listen to it today, I think he knew eventually his life choices would kill him. As I grew up and found myself to truly be my Father’s Daughter, all I had was lyrics to help me understand him, and myself. He played “If Tomorrow Never Comes” until it was burned into my brain. The last time I got to lay in the recliner with my Daddy, he quietly sang “Don’t Cry” by Guns’n’Roses. I think he truly believed that I would be okay without him.

The truth is, I am okay now. The rest of my family stepped in to do his job, and support me the best they could. My Mother, a no-nonsense woman with high standards, was the barrier between experimenting with drugs and alcohol, and becoming consumed by them. I had guardrails in place that allowed me to rebuild my life as I healed. I’m not sure if he realized how blessed he was to have people in our lives that we did. People that were willing to take on his responsibilities, while attempting to heal wounds they didn’t create. I survived in spite of him. I survived when so many others did not.

I finally felt healed last year. I had to work incredibly hard to unlearn the negative self-beliefs and habits. It took years of therapy, medical help, and one incredibly patient husband to get here. I covered my scars with memorial tattoos, and I started to tell my story. I eventually was able to recognize the Neurodivergent traits in myself, my father and my brother, allowing me to see the potential outcomes for my own children before they had a chance to manifest as addiction. I am breaking cycles, I am healing generational trauma. It is still a struggle everyday though; despair and self-hate lurk around every corner waiting for me to slip and let them back in. I will carry the echoes of his addiction with me for the rest of my life.

As I healed, I learned that it is okay to hold onto my desire to help others live a better life. I have learned how to give support without compromising myself or my safety. I volunteer my time Coaching Youth Cheerleading, and sitting at tables where my story can create change for future generations. I became a Peer Support provider for parents who have children that struggle with mental health. I turned the pain and the trauma into a fuel for a life of service that I can be proud of, but I never allow myself to forget the cost of getting here. My success came in spite of unnecessary hardship, not because of it. My Strength came from connection to people who loved me with their actions as much as their words, not from love I was missing. My Father’s life and Death did not make me who I am today, I made myself who I am in spite of it all.

Recovery is unbelievably hard, but it is possible, and more than that it is worth it. For every story like mine, that ends in success, there is someone else who never made it through. The only way you can ensure that your addiction does not plague your children’s lives is to choose to get healthy and be accountable. If you would die for your children, choose to live for them too.

Neighbors need to know that children nearby may live in hidden chaos caused by parental drinking and other drug use, and that one truly caring adult may be able to help them separate the disease of addiction from the parent they love. COAs often learn special rules and roles, which include attempting to protect the family image, keeping feelings to themselves, not trusting others, assuming parental responsibilities, excelling at school, trying to make others feel better, adapting to situations in a detached fashion, or using negative behavior to attract attention.  In general, COAs have higher rates of stress-related illnesses and conditions, including ulcers, depression, fatigue, headaches, insomnia, tension, anxiety, and eating disorders.  The positive news is that help is available, and COAs can be helped even when their parent continues to drink or use other substances.  Treatment court judges can initiate change within the family unit by addressing the needs of the children.  Understanding who a “safe person” is and which adults can be trusted is crucial, including within the school setting.  As the impact of the pandemic has increased the impact of alcohol and opioid use in this country over the last few years, it is even more important that the non-using parent and other sincere adults seek assistance and support when discussing a parent’s addiction with a child.     

The Seven C’s

Can also help children cope with their circumstances by reminding them that:

• They didn’t CAUSE the addiction.
• They can’t CONTROL it.
• They can’t CURE it.

However, they can:

• Take care of themselves by COMMUNICATING their feelings.
• Make good CHOICES.
• CELEBRATING who they are.

For more information and resources visit NACoA and COA Awareness Week. You can make a positive difference in a child’s life! If you are struggling with substance use and want to find out about local resources for help visit ACASA.

Special “Thanks” to Heather Gill for sharing her story.