I need Dr Phil - Part Two

Last week I sort of went somewhere I didn't really plan on going.....but now that I have, I guess I have to continue...

Addiction, in my opinion, is genetic.  It doesn't have to be the same kind of addiction, for instance - just because I'm addicted to buying fabric - it doesn't mean my children will be addicted to fabric!  But I really think that if there is a long line of family members, through the generations, whom have struggled with an addiction, then you are going to be more likely to struggle with one too?  I could be wrong - but as I said - my opinion.

I didn't know my paternal grandparents, so I can't say that I know if they battled any kind of addiction.  I do know that my paternal grandmother was a kind and generous woman, whom my own Mother loved dearly.  My grandfather apparently was a different story.  Don't get me wrong - I think he may have been a nice enough man, but not someone who would make you all warm and fuzzy?  And the couple of stories I have heard about him from my Mum (I don't think I've ever heard my Dad speak of him?), do not make for a glowing report.  But you know when you just get that feeling?  The feeling that things just weren't "right"?  That's the feeling I get.

The line of addiction has unfortunately filtered down to my generation.  I may joke about my addiction to buying fabrics, but the other kinds in our family are not really a laughing matter.  This is why I was so upset the other week whilst watching Dr Phil.  It's like watching your own family, your own story.  A wide-screen HD view of your life.  And at times, I feel helpless.  Both of my siblings (whom I love dearly and do not want to tarnish their reputations) have battled on and off with varying addictions over the years.  And I have generally sat back and watched them flush their sanity down the toilet.

A couple of months ago, I was on the phone to my sister.  We got to talking about some of her struggles, and I was rather candid.  If I was given just one wish, from anyone - genie or not - it would be that my beautiful, artistic, whimsical and vivacious sister, could be given the opportunity (and take it) to get some really spot on help to battle her struggles and overcome them.  My wish is for her three beautiful daughters to see the amazing woman that she can be.  The woman who was so care-free, and so happy.  Instead, my nieces only know the battle-weary woman.  The one who sits and drinks coffee all day and does not enter the public arena.  She is a mere shadow of herself.  Unfortunately it is not only addictions she has battled, but mental illness also.

The phone conversation was wonderful.  We both cried.  Lots.  But I was wanting to convey to her that these beautiful, amazing children of hers deserved to know their Mother.  And she deserved to be known by them.  And if I had to ring Dr Phil for an intervention - by God - I would!

Although the threat of Dr Phil was almost laughable, it got the wheels turning.  And I'm hoping (and praying) that in the very near future - the help that is needed will be available and taken.

What about my brother?  Well, that really is another story.  One for yet another day.