That First Drink

I was twelve, stole what I thought was a bottle of red wine from my Mom learning later that it was red vermouth.

That didn't stop me and a friend from drinking the whole thing and walking into the town of Manhasset NY, sporting our blue eye shadow and high heeled wedgie shoes. Falling to the ground drunk, rolling into bushes thinking it was the best thing since sliced white bread.
If I knew then what I know now, I wonder if it would have stopped me cold over 30 years ago, or would I have battled the bottle as I have for so many long years?

My Name is Cathie and I hate being an alcoholic, but that's what I am, and in all honesty it is better to be a recovering alcoholic than an active alcoholic.

My birth parents were products of addiction, booze, dope, sex, money, what ever could get them out of them selves and not get it together to raise a family.

They kept me until I was 9 months old. I was one of 12, my birth parents had 6 together, my birth mother had six other kids with other men, it still remains a mystery at this point if my Birth Father had kids with other woman, being the betting person that I am, I'd lay odds on it, and I feel there are many more of us there who were adopted.

I was adopted by my parents Len and Angels Schatzmann. My Mom from what I understand was married before she met my dad, her first husbands was some big shot detective in NYC was shot on duty and died under the care of a negligent surgeon. From there she dove into the bottle.

So, I was always left wondering if I was double whammied. Did I pick up my addiction and my additcive behavoirs from my birth parents, my adopted parents, or does it really matter where they come from as long as fix them, accept them and learn from them?