Heavy post time.

My youngest kid’s birthday is on Halloween.

He’s always had a difficult time just existing. He’s had issues with anxiety and depression since the very day he was born.

It’s taken a lot of work to figure him out.

Right now he’s attempting middle school. He’s been mostly home schooled since the first grade. It’s really difficult with his social challenges but he’s trying so hard.

He’s figuring himself out too.

Luckily, he has a great team of educators working with him this time around. The support he’s getting this year is awesome and is making all the difference.

I told him that if he can manage middle school he can do anything.

It’s probably the most difficult time in our American lives. Kids are mean. Grown ups are mean. Everyone is judgmental and impatient all while we’re trying to go through a massive brain development that shapes us for the rest of our lives.

Some of us don’t make it. We have an arrested development and stay at a seventh grade mentality forever, ironically forever unaware.I am incredibly proud of both my kids, but Halloween is all for my little monster.

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I’m also proud of myself.

I was about his age when my family broke apart and I was essentially emotionally abandoned. These are formidable years and I am proof of the damage that can be caused by shitty alcoholic parents.

I was also battling being a shitty alcoholic parent up until just a few years ago. I was just slightly better than my own shitty alcoholic parents because I was still trying at least. But hangover dad is never a good look. I couldn’t be there 100%.

When they say, “where do you want to be five years from now?” Well, five years ago, I wanted to be dead and I was well on my way. (told you this was heavy). My depression was gloriously intensified by alcohol and I was hell bent on drinking myself to death.

My most powerful driving motivation for getting sober and fighting alcoholism (besides not leaving a disgusting mess for everyone else to clean up) was my kids.

I knew they were still going to need a dad. A functional one.

A sober one. So I quit drinking. It finally took after a few tries.

I tell my kids, there’s no such thing as failure as long as you keep trying.

And now I can see the difference I make in my kids lives. I see it every day. I’m not bragging, I’m just glad I survived to do some good and even make new stupid mistakes.

I’m proud that I have surpassed my own parents. I also thoroughly enjoy the time I have with the kiddos before they grow up and leave.

No matter what I do with my own life to call it “success”, from here on, I’m satisfied. I survived when others haven’t. I’m still here and that’s something.

And I think my kids are going to be okay.

At least I’m not going to make their lives worse.