Simple Communication

Well, as simple as it can be between an alcoholic and his possibly drug addicted son.

Yes, Namenlosen, though it hasn’t occurred in the way you and I seemed to plan it (lol), there has been communication between my oldest son and I for the first time in many years. Over ten.

This, is not easy… and at the same time it isn’t really that hard. Fears. The boogeymen. The worst fear? How I perceive what is said, translate it, then respond to it. At its root? That damage that insists on telling me that I’m wrong again!

There is also this strange “need” to affirm that I’m okay as a man and an adult. That stems from damage inflicted (self-inflicted after all is said and done) by another (the ex) who was vengeful for perceived or real “treatment” she received from a walking, talking, attitude case called a drunk. This was an early part of this new communication – talk of mom and sis. Talk of sh** talk about mom and sis. Which was confusing, to me.

An alcoholic mind has a weird translation process. Just the fact that “it” has to translate is another story

Time For A Meeting!!!

Later…