I realized something tonight. You're never too old to learn something and tonight - while in class to become a drug counselor - I learned something about my life. What I learned answered a lifelong question for me. Why was I the only drug addict in my immediate family? Why was my brother, just 2 1/2 years older than me, able to "grow out of" experimentation and recreational using of pot and alcohol and I wasn't? Why was I unable to stop chasing that initial high? and why did it take me until the age of 31 to admit I was sick and tired of being sick and tired and ask for help?
Anyway, part 1 of my recovery (and life) journey begins with my birth and my mother's diagnosis of lung cancer just days later. From what little my dad and aunt told me over the years plus what I read in journals and hospital records I found after my dad died 5 years ago, I gathered that my mom smoked more than 2 packs of non-filtered camel cigarettes while pregnant with me and days after I was born on Feb 9, 1965, she was re-admitted into the hospital likely for some kind of cancer symptoms. Medical care being what it was 50 years ago, she died about a year later - a month after my first birthday. When I realized the timing of this early childhood trauma, it occurred to me that with my mom so sick in my infancy, we didn't have that maternal bonding that some think is so significant. I think lack of bonding, being held, breast-feeding - impacted every relationship throughout my life - be it romantic relationships, relationships with family members, friends, co-workers etc. It affected most every major decision in my life. And I think it led to me trying to fill that missing place within me - the missing piece - with other things and other people. I always thought I was missing something and that drugs brought me to everyone else's level. and they made me feel better, happier, part of, and "enough." These were feelings I didn't have otherwise.
So to the lifelong question that's plagued me. ... why just me and not my sibling?
He was 3 1/2 when my mom died. she was still healthy when he was born and was able to bond with him, and he with her. He got what I missed. And as a result, he can have a drink or two on vacation each year, when he's not driving.
He's totally levelheaded, able to have healthy relationships and rarely if ever loses his temper. Until I got clean in 1996, I was the opposite. He's always been able to go and do things by himself, and I've always been afraid of just about everything - especially doing things alone.
anyway, I could go on but I think you get the point. I think in my case, it was nurture (or lack of it) versus nature. And now I can put that piece of my past behind me where it belongs. More will be revealed.
And I Thank God it's not all revealed at once.