What is real

I don't think that I intentionally wanted to paint a rosy picture of what life was like to others, but somehow in the darkest moments of living with alcoholism,  I made up a different kind of life that wasn't real.  I didn't want to let others know what my past had been like or what the present was like either.

I realize now that this was part of what alcoholism does--it makes me want to pretend that certain situations did not occur.  I can remember that I wanted others to think that my life was a neat package.  The pretend life had to be maintained.  But there would be times when it was impossible to put on a smiling face.  What happened at home could be covered up,  but what happened among other people in social settings was not something that I could hide.

People that I hadn't seen for a long time would say something to me about what a party person C. was.  Always they would bring up the drinking to me, as if I had some control over it, or as if it were something to smirk or gloat about.  I felt for so long that what the alcoholics in my life did was a reflection on me.  My perception of building a fantasy life, of lying about how things were going,  could not be maintained because others would point out the truth.  I didn't want to hear anything resembling the truth.

I can remember the resentment I would feel when someone would mention my wife's drinking in a disparaging way.  I would feel a lot of self-pity about my lot in life.  Why did I have to have this burden of living with people who shattered every fantasy?  How could I make others see what a wonderful person I married in spite of the drinking? So no matter what, I did my best to smooth things over, to make sure that everyone thought we were doing just fine,  never letting anyone know when I was vulnerable and hurting, never letting on what happened behind closed doors.  In an effort to hide reality, I lied and made excuses.

Inevitably, as time progressed,  I became more and more angry.  I wished for the death of the alcoholic.  I thought about killing myself.  I wanted a solution that would free me from the torment that I felt.  I still tried to pretend, but the pretending became harder and harder because something within me had shifted.  I felt cornered in a situation which seemed to not have a solution.

I find that the incredible thing about living with alcoholism is that I could not see any clear choices.  Nor could I see the role that I was playing in living a miserable existence.

I think that I began to see how pathetic things were when enough cumulative events happened that I was forced to realize nothing was going to change unless I was the one changing.  It was survival mode at that point.  I could no longer pretend that things were okay.

I knew that I had reached a low point where there was nothing but emptiness inside.  The reality of knowing that the person who I loved was incapable of showing me love hurt.  The reality of knowing that I had turned into a judgmental, pessimistic, fearful, bitter, and self-pitying person also hurt.  I had little joy in anything.  Every task was approached just to get something done. I took on extra work just so that I would be exhausted and not have to feel or think.  That was what the ultimate reality of alcoholism did.

I'm grateful for finally being able to look realistically at my life.  I heard others in Al-Anon meetings talk about what they were going through.  I could identify.  How could they know what I was feeling?  The more I went to meetings and worked with a sponsor, the more I came to understand that I was not unique in how I tried to cover up the truth.  Most of us don't want to face the fact that our lives are unmanageable, that we are not happy, and that something is terribly wrong in the relationship with an alcoholic.

Once the truth is spoken,  a dam of feelings are unleashed.  Fortunately, I've found that the feelings aren't anything to fear.  It is a great thing to be able to laugh at so many things now that used to make me sad.  It does take time to bring that joy to the surface.  But just being able to look at myself and the alcoholics in my life in a realistic and truthful manner has helped me to heal. 

Denial is a powerful tool. Never underestimate its ability to cloud your vision.

Be aware that, for many reasons, we have become experts at using this tool to make reality more tolerable. We have learned well how to stop the pain caused by reality - not by changing our circumstances, but by pretending our circumstances are something other than what they are.

Do not be too hard on yourself. While one part of you was busy creating a fantasy reality, the other part went to work on accepting the truth.

Now, it is time to find courage. Face the truth. Let it sink gently in.

When we can do that, we will be moved forward. ~ Melodie Beattie