Nine years today

Today is my 9th anniversary in Al-Anon.  I have told you about all of these years right here. You probably know more about my life than anyone, except for my first sponsor and my wife.  I'm grateful that you have been with me on the journey thus far.

And it has been a good journey in recovery.  I can remember how it started out. That first year was confusing.  My wife was new to AA, and I wasn't sure whether our marriage could be healed.  We didn't trust each other.  It was a rough time.

Gradually, as each year passed, we came to realize that if we applied the principles of recovery to our lives, we could prevail.  I learned about compassion and just how much I loved her.  I realized that we were both damaged when we met.  And as I thought of her as a child, fearful of the emotional abuse from an alcoholic father and a mother who was affected by her husband's alcoholism, I came to feel so much love for her.  I realized that I was wounded too by my father's drinking.  And I came to love him more than ever, along with my in-laws, because they did the best they knew how to do.

So C. and I shared a common bond of children affected by alcoholism.  I knew her pain, and she knew mine.  We grew to be respectful and kind to each other, rather than having the old judgmental and contemptuous feelings.  And over these years our love has grown to where we are today.  Neither of us can imagine life without the other.

I am so fortunate to have found out who I am and that I have a lot of good qualities.  I am grateful for having met so many people whose paths I would not have crossed if not for Al-Anon.  I am glad that you have been along for the journey too.  We have written, learned, cried, laughed, and comforted each other in more ways than I thought possible. Thank you all.

A day of thanks

The rain is coming down today.  It's a good day to stay inside. I can't decide whether to get busy with a project or simply take it easy.  Right now, I am looking outside the bedroom window sitting on the window seat. This is what I see.

There is really more color to the leaves than the photo shows. This is a glorious time in the Lowcountry.  All the maples and sumac and gum trees are in their glory.  Soon enough the leaves will be gone and only the pines and oaks will provide leaves of dark green.  

The other day I was riding down our road on horseback.  And this is what I saw: 

The fog was there in the early morning across the pecan orchard when I started my ride and then on the way back, it was clearing and revealed incredible points of light shining through the old oaks.  I am indeed fortunate to live where I do. 

According to recent travel magazines the nearby city is ranked number one in the US and number two in the world.  I don't think that is possible, but then I don't live in the city or understand how these ratings are determined.  I suppose the habitats of marshes and maritime forests and beaches and the historic aspects make it so popular.  

Who would have thought though that this place that I call home now would be a top ranked destination?  Thank goodness, our little island is still in low profile. But I wonder how long it will take before the crush of development heads this way.  I hope a long time.  So far drugs haven't been a huge problem out here and crime is low.  I wonder how long that will last.  We are secluded which is either a good thing or not.  And I am not a gun toter which I view as a good thing.  The further I can get away from all of the city's problems with crime and drugs, the happier I am.  

Since I got back from Virginia,  I have felt much at peace.  We managed to get all the plants into the greenhouses before the freeze.  And the actual freeze was minor here with most of the plants surviving, except for a few annuals that were on their last legs anyway.  The egg plant died but the peppers weren't affected by the freeze.  The winter crops are growing.  And we surely did need this heavy rain today.  

At times, I still feel isolated from people. My isolation is an old pattern, no doubt from being around heavy drinking and alcoholism as a child.  I work on my tendency to isolate by going to meetings, heading to the barn to ride, to the gym or to the marina, and getting together with a few friends for dinner or lunch.  I know the old pattern and that what I tell myself is not necessarily the best thing when it comes to dealing with people. 

Wednesday is our wedding anniversary.  We are going to dinner and a movie. For Thanksgiving, it will be the two of us, although we may go visit some friends in the afternoon.  I think that Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays are hard on those who don't have family. But there are many people out there who feel the same.  And some of those have a lot of family but the feeling of apartness is still there.  Filling the empty hole within takes work. 

So I am wishing you a day of thanks for those that you have in your life and good memories of those that aren't with you.  Peace and love.  

Being an adult child of an alcoholic

I have met quite a few adult children of alcoholics.  Some of them also became alcoholics themselves. And many of them find themselves in Al-Anon trying to figure out why they have felt different, left out, and emotionally abandoned for most of their life. My own story illustrates the characteristics that so many children of alcoholics/addicts feel.

I don't know whether my father was an alcoholic, but I definitely was troubled by his drinking.  One of my earliest memories was of the sheriff bringing him to the house after he broke his shoulder in a single car accident. He was drunk. I was afraid and instantly knew that I did not like what was happening. The town doctor came to the house to set his shoulder, but it was never properly set and had an offset to it from then on.  My father suffered no other consequences--no arrest, no mention by my mother or any one else in the family that I can recall. All just went on as if nothing happened

But I believe that I was also offset from that accident too. Low self-esteem that channels itself into perfectionism, anxiety, and abandonment issues were what I experienced.  My mother did not acknowledge that my father drank. She chose to live in denial. The message that I got was "Everything is fine".  Except to me, it wasn't.

It took me a number of years to get the courage in 7th grade to ask my mother to tell my father to stop drinking. I was embarrassed, angry at him, fearful of him and totally conflicted by the fact that nothing in our house seemed to be okay, even though I was told that we were elite and better than others. I didn't feel elite or better at all.

In order to cope, I learned to play by myself.  I had a little farm set that had a barn, horses, cows, chickens, etc. And I would set that up and play for hours, pretending to live on that happy farm that I invented in my head. I also would visit other families occasionally and wonder if they were "normal".  If I thought something looked "normal", I would try to mimic it.  In so doing, I learned at an early age to invent the ideal family and the ideal self, but I kept running up against the reality of my unhappiness at home. The mask would crack when I realized that the fantasy I was creating of my home life didn't really exist. I kept trying to be perfect and began to blame myself harshly when I wasn't.

My father was a harsh critic of me.  Both parents expected a lot from me in terms of academic achievements. But my father would remind me of all the things that I didn't do right.  I began to think of myself as being better off not having been born. After all, I was born 16 years after my parents were married. I was a "surprise" because they had decided not to have children. And then, here I was--a big disappointment.

In spite of my self-criticism, I learned to be mischievous away from home. I had fun with my friends at school.  I had fun in the summer when my father was at work.  I dreaded the days when he was off work because I knew that he would be drinking. When he was home, I generally went right to my room where I listened to rock and roll on a tiny radio or read books. I remember being on edge when he was around. And when he was gone, I would cut loose with wild abandon.

I tend to be reckless to this day. At certain times in my life I was so responsible it was frightening. At other times I behaved so recklessly that it was amazing I survived.  Often, I was impulsive and didn't give much thought to consequences of my actions.  I try for balance in my life today--not being so rigid with responsibility and enjoying adventures that are not life threatening.

I don't think that I really understood what a healthy adult relationship was like. I didn't see my parents kiss--ever. I didn't see them hug each other.  I didn't hear them tell each other "I love you".  So what I applied in my relationships later in life was not healthy. I was attracted to women who were unpredictable, wild, and who drank alcoholically. I wanted to make someone who was erratic and rejecting fall in love with me.

So in order to get through life and relationships, I learned to be controlling.  I believed that if I were in charge, then somehow things would go my way. And the exact opposite happened.  The love that I wanted, the approval I longed for wasn't given because I was controlling and manipulative. I was often rejected and when I wasn't or when I was successful at something, I didn't believe I deserved it.

It was hard for me to believe that I deserved good things. And even today, I don't like to talk about my successes.  I prefer to hear other people talk about theirs. I feel comfortable isolating and work at putting myself out there to be a part of groups.  It is still hard for me to believe that I can be accepted and actually liked at times. I have gotten much better though at being comfortable around others.

An adult child of an alcoholic is loyal to a fault.  I have often thought that the devil you know is better than the one that you don't.  My mother stayed married to my father.  People in my family didn't get divorced, except for one female cousin who was married three times and was talked about because of it.  And so I learned not to walk away--from anything--when the going got tough.  But alcoholism also pushed me to the point that I was ready to leave my wife. It took me so many years and a lot of sad times to even get to that point though. I learned from my parents that I had a duty to stay with a person, no matter how I was treated.  I thought that it was better to stay with someone no matter what they did because my fear of being abandoned was so strong.

I have long thought that a lot of my behavior is like that of an alcoholic--the "isms" are present--but the drinking is not. Some of us who have been affected by drinking feel most alive when things are in crisis mode. Wanting things to be done right now, instead of deferring decisions is a definite character defect of mine.  I like instant results and have had to learn to disengage from that type of behavior over the years. Being a scientist helped me to temper the sense of immediate gratification. I could look toward the end result but had to make sure that all the steps were done along the way in order to get there.

So for those who have grown up with alcoholism or have children who are in the midst of active alcoholic/addictive behavior in the family, the effects of the disease are likely manifesting themselves right now.  The confusion, denial, and too often chaos of an alcoholic home lead to so many of the things I wrote about above. Don't kid yourself by saying "Everything is fine". The people affected are FINE--*ucked, insecure, neurotic and emotional. And that's not a good way to go through life.  Don't let the drama surrounding the alcoholic/addict be the most important thing in the family.  I hope that you will decide to get help--a 12 step program, therapy, or speaking to a trusted friend will help in letting go of the shame and burdens of alcoholism and addiction.

Dog days of summer

We are in the dog days of summer here: thunderstorms every evening, humid and hot air making it difficult to do many tasks outside.  Yet, the afternoons have been breezy, offering a respite from the mid-day heat.  And the rain after the thunderstorms has made all the gardens lush with growth.  We are still gathering vegetables which make for great salads and go into the morning juice that I make for myself.

This weekend is the big regatta on the island.  Thousands of people and hundreds of boats will converge on one of the small creeks to drink and hang out.  In years past, it was dubbed the largest floating cocktail party in the state. Oddly, even though I live here, I have not been on the water when the regatta occurred.  A friend offered to take us this weekend on his small boat, but we declined.  Spending the day watching other people drink themselves silly on boats doesn't seem like a relaxing time.

Actually, we haven't decided what to do this weekend.  I thought about going to a museum in the upstate to see the Titantic artifact exhibit.  We talked about going on the boat up the coast.  I'm sure that we will find something to do that will we will enjoy.  It never fails that what we both need will be presented in some way as a new adventure.

For two days now, my wife has seemed happier.  I'm glad for that.  Earlier this week, I felt stuck and lonely, mired in self pity about spending my whole life with someone who has either suffered from alcoholism or depression.  These are the moments when I hyperfocus on happy, laughing couples who seem to exude balance.  These are the times when I focus on what is wrong with us as a couple, how incompatible we seem.  These are the moments when I despair for signs of affection and laugher and love.  And these are the times that I forget about the good times that we have shared.

Dissatisfaction will settle on my shoulders, and I'll long to shake it off.  I have so much to be grateful for.  I see that my wife is one of the best people that I know.  She is truly kind, generous, honest, and lovely.  She has helped me to unhinge myself from my own upbringing of being critical, judgmental, and serious.  I still have a ways to go though when it comes to getting dragged down by the moods of others.  I've said it here before: Alcoholism is a lonely disease not only for the alcoholic but for the family members as well.  So is depression.


Some friends don't understand this. They don't understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you're wonderful just the way you are. They don't understand that I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would. ― Elizabeth Wurtzel

Clearing skies

We have had some terrific storms here in the last few days.  The one on Saturday evening was spectacular, with lightening arcing across the sky.  Our boat and one other were anchored for the light show.  When the rain came, we hunkered below and after a few minutes were treated to a beautiful sunset.  These are the moments of clarity for me, a chance to refresh the mind and body.    I could see a change in my wife also, as she was relaxed and cheerier after the weekend.

I didn't realize that she had stopped taking medication several months ago.  Yesterday, she had an appointment with a new doctor who prescribed meds to help her sleep and for depression.  My thoughts, which I keep to myself, are that
she would probably feel better if she went thoroughly through the steps with a new sponsor and found a spiritual solution.  Many recovering alcoholics find that Al-Anon also helps when dealing with the effects of living with an alcoholic. I know that she had a hard time with her father when growing up.  I also know that she has to find her way to work through this.

One of the hardest things is to watch someone I love struggling with a spirit breaker like depression, alcoholism, or the myriad of problems that plague humans.  Time has taught me that there is nothing I can do to relieve their suffering except love them and take care of myself.  And I pray for those who are sick and suffering to move through the darkness within to light and peace.

Doing life

I seem to be doing life more and more without worry or fear.  It is a good feeling.  There are more days of utter contentment, even in the midst of those circumstances that baffle me and used to make me feel estranged from myself.

I like that I am doing life without the goal of trying to please others.  The people pleasing behavior is one of those things that children of alcoholics know how to do.  It never worked, and I would always be filled with resentment when my "good" deeds would go unnoticed or be glossed over.

I guess that it's not unusual to want to be liked or to please the people that we love or who are important to us.  But it seems that alcoholism has a way of warping how much pleasing I did.  Being ill at ease with who I was from the time I can remember,  I would try hard to fit in.  But I never could quite achieve a feeling of oneness with others.  Sure, there were moments of having a sense of belonging.  But overall, there was a feeling of not being a part of.

I hear these words said in so many meetings--"I didn't fit in", "I felt different", "I didn't belong".  And these are said by alcoholics and Al-Anons.  I recently heard that those who grow up around alcoholism don't have a data base to learn how to "do life" like other children do.  For many, growing up around alcoholism is filled with anxiety and tension.  The child doesn't learn to be a child because the moments of being carefree are short lived.  Not knowing what is going to happen next takes away the ability to relax.

I can remember times in my adult life where I did not feel fully present.  Those are familiar feelings from the past in which I was just going through the motions of pretending to be a child, pretending to like what was going on, pretending to feel comfortable, pretending to do life.

I understand this quote from Dr. Jan Woititz because it is what I have often felt:

"It is hard for adult children of alcoholics to believe that they can be accepted because of who they are and that the acceptance does not have to be earned. Feeling different and somewhat isolated is part of your makeup."

Getting comfortable in my own skin is part of recovery.  I know that I have come a long way because I am not striving to fit in with every situation, and I'm not judging myself harshly for it.

I now like to do things for others without expecting anything in return.  I now know that my friendship and love is enough. I don't have to give gifts all the time or take people places or do any of the other things that I would do whether I really wanted to or not.  I can do what feels okay to me, without strings attached.

Doing life now is about ease, not strife.  It's about being authentic and not pretending, not worrying about what others think, not looking for others to fill the hole or patch me up.  I've found my childhood as an adult.

Our own network

The birthday law lasted through the movie and lunch.  The "Tinker" movie was full of twists and turns, flashbacks, and complications.  It was one that required attention and thinking to get what was happening.  Maybe I wasn't in the mood for thinking so hard, because I preferred the "Dragon Tattoo" movie which was straightforward and yet action packed.  We enjoyed the time together, eating popcorn, and later having fish tacos at a restaurant near the theater.

Bliss was short-lived though. When we got home, there were 11 calls from the caregivers and my wife's parents. No messages though.  Uh-Oh.......hard not to have the mind go to a bad place, wondering who is now in the hospital or worse circumstances.

The situation was that Pop was angry with the caregivers, telling Jessica and Brad that they did nothing, were not of any use to him.  It hurt their feelings a lot because they are good people who work hard at keeping the parents comfortable, well fed, entertained, and the house clean.  My wife, C.,  went to have a talk with her dad.  She explained that without the caregivers, they cannot stay in their home.   C. said that he sat there and seethed, saying only disparaging things.

Quality of life for the parents will not be good should he drive these good people away.  So this morning, I called to talk with Jessica.  She told me that her own father, who used to be her self-described hero,  is an alcoholic, that her mother has been in Al-Anon for over a year, and that she can see that Pop is a dry drunk.  So we had a good conversation about taking care of ourselves around the alcoholic.  I shared my experience with my dad.  And related that I went to Al-Anon (I did not break my wife's anonymity) because of growing up with a father who drank.  I invited her to attend one of the meetings that I go to which is close by the parent's home.

I think that this was another moment in which there is a reason that we have been put together.  We are now all on the same page with our truths.  Jessica and I both love alcoholics.   Brad works at the homeless shelter and deals with all stages of alcoholism.  My wife is alcoholic and probably her dad is also.  C's. mom has lived with a restless, irritable, and discontent man for her entire marriage. We are all connected by the disease.  Together, we will form our own network to listen to each other, share our feelings, and work through the difficulties.  Things happen for a reason. People come together for a reason.  Nothing is coincidence.

Gone fishing

We are going fishing today.  Both of us are struggling a bit because the parents caregivers, Karin and Elias, gave their notice last evening.  They are leaving for London in two weeks to work at an estate.

Neither of us has slept well.  I was too anxious to write last night.  I needed to process the information.  I realize that there is a solution.  We are working on that now.

I am looking on the bright side.  But last evening, it was hard to wrap my head around the whole idea of their leaving so soon after they arrived.  But this is what life is about--people come and go.  And now we have to take action to find another couple who are willing to be caregivers.

I do what I generally do.  I got on the internet, wrote up a job description and put it out there.  I could feel the "fix it" rush happening.  I realize that my first reactions of dismay, sadness, and anxiety were pushed away when I did "something".  This is so typical of an adult child of an alcoholic.  By doing "something", I don't have to sit with the bad feelings.  That is part of it.  The other part is that with only two weeks notice, I did need to get a job description out there.

So now, we are going fishing.  It is a picture perfect day.  We both want to be on the water.  After one action, there has got to be an equal and opposite reaction.  Fishing seems to fit that bill completely.

Somehow, I know that all will be okay.  Casting out lines and seeing what rises to the bait seems to be the metaphorical thought of the day.

More will be revealed

I took my mother-in-law for her doctor's appointment today.  In the car, she began to tell me about the tests being done on her husband, who is still in hospital.  I have written here before that he has cirrhosis of the liver.  The doctors are doing a liver biopsy and some other tests as well.

I asked her if she thought alcohol was a factor in his liver disease.  And she opened up to talk to me as she has never done before.  She told me that my father-in-law would go on binges for days.  She said that she has been called every name in the book by him, been yelled at and belittled.  She also told me that her own father drank.  And she said that he did not want her to marry another man who drank.

All of this came as a huge "Ah-Ha" for me.  I could understand her anger over the years, her need for a perfect house,  her changeable moods.  It all made sense to me when I knew that she was a kindred soul--an adult child of an alcoholic who married an alcoholic.

I have been around my mother-in-law for all of my married life.  Yet, I never had this kind of conversation with her.  She kept her distress from her sister and from close friends.  And she kept it for all these years from me.  Now, I see her through different eyes.  I feel a level of compassion for her that I have for newcomers who arrive in pain.

She has persevered through a marriage of over 50 years, carrying around a secret that so many of us, who are affected by alcoholism, do.  She told me that the reason she stayed in the marriage was because of her daughter, my wife. And that decision no doubt had its ramifications for C.  Probably, what she isn't aware of, is that she stayed for other reasons as well--hoping to change the alcoholic,  fear of abandonment, economic fears, pride, and a host of other emotions that keep us bound in an emotional prison.

I shared with her about my father.  I didn't mention my wife as I won't break her anonymity, even to her own mother.  I told her that I don't know whether my dad was an alcoholic but that I also had a lot of unresolved emotions carried over from childhood.  And I told her that I have learned to detach from the belligerence of others by physically removing myself.  She said that she tunes out her husband's yelling as best she can.

How I wish that she could have gotten into Al-Anon.  The conversation we had  made us both feel better.  As she put it, "We now know something about each other that we didn't before." How very true.  More will be revealed.

Each of us has our own share of truth, waiting to reveal itself to us. Each of us has our own share of the light, waiting for us to stand in it, to claim it as ours. ~ Melody Beattie

I am not the Director

I have a good friend who is about as alcoholic as one can be even though he has been without a drink for over two decades.  I listen to him as he has all kinds of dreams and goals, none of which he really wants to work to achieve.  He hasn't had a job in over a year and lives off whatever happens to come his way occasionally.  I listen to him talk about getting his captain's license and wonder how he will pass the exam when his study habits are so poor.  He has much fear and anxiety, yet seems immobilized to take action.

I bite my tongue a lot.  I want to speak up and say, "Hey D., you are going about all of this the wrong way."  I have a lot of solutions for him: Get a job which will end the fear about finances; quit bitching about what is wrong with AA meetings and go to one; do something for others instead of thinking of yourself first; call your aging parents and reach out to them, and so on. 

I think that I have the answers on how to direct his life. It is so tempting to be the director of another.  But I have enough Al-Anon to know that he would resent my suggestions, that I cannot change him to be a mini-me,  and that he has to figure out his life without my interference. 

I know that my thinking that I have the answers goes back a long way.  Was I born this way?  I sincerely doubt it.  But growing up in a dysfunctional home gave me a lot of lessons on seeing what others were doing "wrong".  And those old lessons still present themselves to me every day in which I think that I have a better way. 

This will be a life long process for me of keeping my mouth shut and not trying to run the show.  I know that I must let others fall flat and experience the consequences of their actions.  I am not the Director of their life.  My movie of their life would be a flop.  But each of us has a Higher Power of our understanding.  I take solace in knowing that the burdens of others don't sit squarely on my shoulders.  The load seems lighter just for having written that. 

Adult children of alcoholics

Tonight our meeting topic was on adult children of alcoholics.  I don't know if my father was alcoholic, but I do know that he was emotionally unavailable and would drink on those days that he was home from work.  I knew that I was affected by this because I wrote about it when I was a kid. I hated for him to be home.  I hoped that he would die, yet I felt terrible for wishing such a thing.  I had a lot of unresolved feelings about love for my father who was an authoritarian figure.  I remember fearfully talking  to my mother and asking her to please get him to stop drinking because I was afraid that he was an alcoholic.

There is a check list of characteristics that those of us share who were brought up in an alcoholic or other type of dysfunctional household.  Isolation, unease with authority figures, people pleasing, sensitivity to criticism, difficulty in intimate relationships, fear of abandonment and rejection are just some of the traits that are developed to cope with alcoholic dysfunction.

Sadly enough, many children who grew up in alcoholic homes also become alcoholic or marry one. It is what we know how to do--seek out the familiar--even if the familiar is hurtful.  I can think back on so many relationships that were not right, largely because I was attracted to those who were most familiar, yet the most injurious to me.

We really grew up with such a sense of responsibility that there was scarce time for childlike fun.  I know that I would escape through play from the anxiety that was always just below the surface.  Lives are lived in fear of being found out.  So we learn to hide feelings and the truth from others. We lived life from the standpoint of victims, and became reactors. I know that I did what I could to drive people away so that they would abandon me because I wanted to be the victim.

It is amazing really what alcoholism does to those who don't even drink.  I took on all the characteristics of the disease without ever being alcoholic.  When the characteristics of an adult child of an alcoholic were read tonight,  I recognized the "old" me in every single line.  But the "new" me who has been in recovery for four years now sees that there has been a behavioral change.  I no longer exhibit every characteristic.  That indicates to me that there has been a profound change in how I view others  and myself since coming to Al-Anon.  Yes, I still have a fear of abandonment, but it is not as crippling a fear as it once was.  I see that my relationship with others has changed for the better.  I am no longer wanting to solve their problems or accept responsibility for their actions. And I have learned to appreciate who I am at last--imperfect but okay.

Ask yourself these questions and see if some resonate with you:

• Do you constantly seek approval and affirmation?
• Do you fail to recognize your accomplishments?
• Do you fear criticism?
• Do you overextend yourself?
• Have you had problems with your own compulsive behavior?
• Do you have a need for perfection?
• Are you uneasy when your life is going smoothly, continually anticipating problems?
• Do you feel more alive in the midst of a crisis?
• Do you still feel responsible for others, as you did for the problem drinker in your life?
• Do you care for others easily, yet find it difficult to care for yourself?
• Do you isolate yourself from other people?
• Do you respond with fear to authority figures and angry people?
• Do you feel that individuals and society in general are taking advantage of you?
• Do you have trouble with intimate relationships?
• Do you confuse pity with love, as you did with the problem drinker?
• Do you attract and/or seek people who tend to be compulsive and/or abusive?
• Do you cling to relationships because you are afraid of being alone?
• Do you often mistrust your own feelings and the feelings expressed by others?
• Do you find it difficult to identify and express your emotions?
• Do you think someone's drinking may have affected you?

Just remember that we didn't choose this disease.  We were simply in the way of it.  And we learned about it over many years.  Now I am undoing all that has been harmful to me.  It takes time--One day at a time.

Eggshells

I used to feel a lot of self-disgust when it came to the topic of walking on eggshells to avoid the elephant in the room.  That may sound like something out of Dr. Seuss, but it is a very real and difficult part of living with an alcoholic. 

I have never considered myself to be passive or fawning.  In fact, I recognized that I was intelligent, outwardly confident, and highly responsible.  That was what the outside world saw too.  But after years of living with an alcoholic,  I found that I was pretty much giving up my true feelings and giving in to the feelings dictated by alcoholism. 

It generally takes years to get to the point where it is easier to walk on eggshells than it is to speak my truth around unacceptable behavior.  Living with alcoholism is sometimes like being in a war zone.  There are tactics and strategies that are employed by both sides to "win".   I know now that I will never "win" in an argument with an alcoholic.  I simply don't have what it takes.  It takes an enormous amount of energy that begins to wear down from subjection to the passive aggressive or just plain aggressive behavior characteristic of active alcoholism. 

I still have a lot of co-dependent behaviors.  There are times that I put up with something unacceptable to keep the peace.  I used to say that my problem was that I cared too much, but I now realize that I was simply hoping that some hazy expectation of normalcy would happen, even when faced with irrefutable evidence that it would not.  I still find that I tend to "help too much".  There are so many other behaviors that I have used too.  Some of them included angry outbursts, pleading, fearing, denying, bribing, trying to extract promises, and others that made me hide what I really thought in order to walk on egg shells around my loved one. 

Sadly enough,  the truth sometimes is still a bit bent in order to keep the peace.  I will hold back what I am thinking.  And if unacceptable behavior occurs,  I do often ignore it, although I have in recent years spoken up to say that what was said was hurtful. I have also learned that my happiness doesn't depend on someone else making changes in their life.  I can attribute the few weeks before getting to my first Al-Anon meeting where I was in such despair, to be the motivator that got me started in the process of no longer walking on eggshells.

Now I do speak my truth when something is unacceptable to me.  I also have learned that I can walk away and not engage in a discussion that makes me out to be the one at fault.  Alcoholism tells the alcoholic to protect their ego and the disease at any cost.  It whispers "You aren't wrong.  The other one, the "normal" one, is at fault."  Well, I'm here to tell you that I don't buy into that BS anymore. 

I used to worry and stress over my life because it seemed that I had everything and yet, I really had nothing that was making me happy.  I was such a mess.  I had to quit minimizing my thoughts and realize that what I was thinking about being unhappy and unsatisfied was real.  I am glad that now we can talk about things and bring them out into the open.  We don't always agree, but there is respect where there used to be none.  Disrespecting each other was one of the worst things for our relationship.  We each sought to tear the other down.  Now instead I see that we are doing our best in recovery to build each other up through compassion, acceptance and trust. 

And when that feeling of walking on eggshells comes around,  I ask myself "What am I doing for me to keep myself sane, serene, and spiritually connected?"

About Michael

I had to go to see our attorney today to sign a health directive.  We thought it would be a good idea and would complement our living wills.  The attorney and I were talking about how who would be the designees to carry out the directives.  I was reminded once again of how small my living family is.  There simply aren't many relatives that I are still around or who I know.

All of this reminded me of a first cousin that I haven't seen in 30 years.  He was older than I and was the only child of my father's youngest sister.  I didn't know him well since the only time we interacted was when we would go to visit my aunt who lived in another state.  I remember Michael had an aquarium, and he liked to show me his fish.  He pretty much stayed in his room most of the time while we were there, except for the times that he would go out with his friends. 

When he was a junior in high school, we all went on a trip together to New York.  He was shopping around for a college to attend.  I don't recall all the details but remember my father became very angry and had words with Michael when he wanted to be driven to visit Cornell.  My father was doing much of the driving and was irritable.  He yelled at Michael who yelled back.  I remember feeling terrible because they both were saying unkind things to each other. 

Later, I would hear my parents talking about Michael, voicing their suspicions that he was gay.  Those prejudicial accusations seemed so wrong at the time and seem even more horrendous today.  His mother suddenly died, he was drafted into the service, and for some reason that I can't understand he was cut off by my father and his other sister.  It was as if he never existed.  I would ask about him, but was told that he probably was dead.  Of course he wasn't.

Later when I was a senior in college, he came to visit us.  I was home on spring break, and he drove down from DC to see the relatives.  I talked with him about my studies and graduate school.  He seemed interested and promised to keep in touch.  But that was the last time I heard from him. Whether my father and mother ever heard from him again is something they took to their grave.

Now as I think back on this,  I am sorry that he was treated so badly by my father.  I have a regret that I didn't get to know him better.  And I wish that I knew what had happened to him.  I don't know whether he is alive.  I am going to do some searching online to see if I can find out more about him.  I realize that I am not responsible for the actions of others or for their injustices.  I do feel that I could have done more to let him know that I didn't dislike him.  It seems totally unfair to have chopped off this branch on the small family tree.

I am glad that I thought about Michael today.  The memories that we have of people, no matter how small and inadequate,  are perhaps a way to honor them so they are not entirely forgotten.

Addendum: I learned this afternoon that Michael died in 1995 in San Francisco.

Family disease

One of the things that I have heard people talk about in Al-Anon is how they came to be affected by alcoholism.  Many had a parent who was alcoholic.  I believe that I was one of those, although my father never declared himself an alcoholic.  But I know that I surely came from a dysfunctional family when it came to alcohol abuse.

My father was a weekend drinker who generally didn't leave the house.  He would sit and sip whiskey.  Occasionally, he would go to a friend's restaurant and have a few beers.  My earliest memory of the effect of his drinking was when I was around 5 years old.  He had a single car accident, driving while impaired, that resulted in his breaking an arm.  There were other childhood memories of his drinking.  I recall to this day the night that I asked my mother to talk to my dad and ask him to stop drinking because I was afraid that he would be an alcoholic.  I was in the fourth grade at the time.

I didn't like going to visit my father's sisters because they were drinkers.  It was generally a free for all when he and two of his sisters would get together.  One died early of a massive heart attack and the other died of alcoholism, as did her daughter.  I remember visiting them when I was in college.  They were a couple of sad people living together in a large house and drinking from late morning until way into the night.  The daughter was found dead in the house after her mother died.  Sadly, she had been a beautiful young woman, but years of alcohol abuse had done its damage internally and externally.

The fall out from all of this was that I grew up to be an adult at a young age.  I was already feeling responsible for others when I was a child.  I think that alcoholism robs children of their childhood.  It took away a lot of the carefree feeling that most children have.  I learned early on about walking on egg shells and about feeling anxious because of the shame that I had around drinking.

Some people who come into Al-Anon did not have an alcoholic parent.  But if one shakes the family tree hard enough, a lot of alcoholics are bound to come tumbling down.  Alcoholism may have been "second hand", but it really doesn't matter.  It is a family disease because it affects so many--parents, children, siblings, friends.

My exposure to alcoholism came first hand.  I grew up with it, married it,  and have friends who are in recovery from it.  It doesn't matter though whether the effects of alcoholism were from first hand experience or not.  What matters is the hand that was extended to me when I sought relief from my pain.  I came in broken but have achieved a degree of being repaired by what I have learned in recovery.  Many have reached out to me.  I grasped their hand and eventually extended my hand to others through sponsoring.

Nothing is hopeless no matter how it may seem at the time.  I once felt doomed to a dire existence.  Yet, I have learned to be a kid again.  Sure,  I still feel a sense of responsibility, but I can also slide out from under the mantle of self-restriction by doing those things that give me immense pleasure these days.  I am grateful for the chance to let go of the gloom and doom feelings and move into the sunlight of the spirit.

Dark and stormy night

When I awoke this morning, it was about 70 F and very humid.  The wind was already gusting on the water. Leaves were falling and twirling off the trees.  The rain started coming down around noon, blowing sideways against the windows.

Tonight is supposed to be stormy here.  A dark and stormy night.  I went to the 7 PM meeting where we discussed Fear.  Good topic for a dark and stormy night.  I have never felt much physical fear for myself.  But the fear I have for losing those that I love has been strong for a long time.  It came when I was around 5 years old and my father had been in an auto accident.  Drinking and losing control of the vehicle, he broke an arm.  I remember the fear that I felt that night because he was hurt.  I thought that he would die.  He didn't.

The fear of losing my wife to drinking, to the abyss of alcoholism was real.  I thought that if she would die, so would I.  That was the co-dependency of my disease.  She was my Higher Power,  but Fear was fueling the internal chaos in my head.  I overcame that fear by understanding that I could not control what she did.  I could have a Higher Power that was not of human form, with human defects.  I could believe that no matter what I did, there was a bigger plan for those I love.

So far so good.  I know that no matter what happens, I will be okay.  I will deal with living and dying.  I may hurt and may grieve but my fear won't kill me.  I have a defense in knowing that I can turn my cares over to a power greater than me, to a God of my understanding.  As long as I remember that,  I am peaceful and restored to sanity. 

Now I'm going to shut down the computer and head to bed.  I am feeling a bit under the weather.  Not sure if it is the cycling of warm and cold temperatures, a cold bug, or just fatigue.  It may be a dark and stormy night, but tomorrow the sun will come up.  I will be okay---regardless.

Forest of trees

I heard someone share at a meeting recently that "In a forest of trees, I didn't recognize that I was a tree."  I clearly didn't have much of a grip on the things that were wrong with me, until I was able to stop the denial.  Before I came to Al-Anon, I could point out over and over what was wrong with the alcoholic.  I knew that she was the one who was making me unhappy.  I could not tell that there was anything wrong with me until the disease progressed.

And once alcoholism had me by the throat, I began to feel the stress, see the craziness, and figure out that something was very wrong with me.  I was out of control with anger, paralyzed by fear.  And that is what brought me to my first meeting. 

After working the steps in Al-Anon, I realized that I had been unhappy for a long time.  The unhappiness went way back, into childhood.  I did a lot of things to try to gloss over the pain of living around alcoholics.  I pretended to be happy.  I put on a brave face.  I did my best to persevere. I tried to gloss over the pain with work.  Finally, I was able to face my unhappiness and undergo some modicum of relief from my denial.  I felt what it was like to be a lone tree. 

Whereas my sole purpose in life was riveted on the alcoholics for so long, I was eventually able to refocus my attention where it needed to be: on me.  I began to find things that I enjoyed doing.  What a revelation to finally get a much needed reality check on denial.  

When I don't look at something that can and is affecting the quality and quantity of my life, then I am in denial.   When I avoid those "three fingers" of responsibility pointing back at me only in favor of aiming the other one out at someone else, I am in denial.  When I don't take appropriate action on something I need to take care of inside of me, that's denial.

As I have learned in meetings, I cannot run from this disease.  I have to stay rooted in my own truth, face whatever occurs, and yet be flexible enough to not break.  I am an individual who gets support now from others around me and know that I am not really alone anymore.

Distorted thinking

I seem to be posting a lot of heavy stuff this week.  I do plan to lighten up for the weekend. Yesterday's post brought about some good comments.  I want to address one by Mary LA who wrote: "But what about the distorted thinking and voice of the codependent who is obsessed with that alcoholism? That makes me equally chilled. Those who don't want the alcoholic/addict to get better."

I think that co-dependency is something that starts at a very young age.  It probably starts with repression of feelings in which a child has to "walk on egg shells" around a dysfunctional family member.  For me, that was my dad.  My mother covered up and denied there was anything wrong. So there was really not much honesty in feelings or trust within the family.  Everything seemed to be "swept under the rug."

Consequently, the stress mounts and the child learns to be anxious.  And along with the stress and anxiety, some unhealthy ways of survival are learned.  One of those ways to survive is to deny one's own feelings.  So instead of basing self-worth on my own feelings and actions, I began to base my self-worth on the opinions, needs, and moods of the person I wanted to please.  In my case, it was my father. 

As Mary noted in her comment, the co-dependent person may actually feel more depressed and unhappy once the alcoholic is sober.  I think here of Lois who was so angry that Bill W. was attending AA meetings. She finally threw her shoe at him in a fit of rage and yelled, "Damn your old meetings." 

This type of crazy thinking, fueled by anger, was what got me into Al-Anon.  I knew that I was angry, empty, worn out, and emotionally bankrupt.  I was using very unhealthy thinking to relate to other people.  These included:

Denial--I deny my own needs and feelings at the expense of others.  I don't know what I feel and can change or minimize my feelings in an instant.  I can be who you want me to be.   

Low Self Esteem-- What you think of me is more important than what I think of myself.  I don't feel worthwhile or lovable.  I am afraid to say what I want to do because it may not be what you want. I judge myself fiercely and come up short.  I feel undeserving of compliments and nice gestures. I give sex when looking for love.  I am loyal to the point that I stay in destructive relationships.  I don't assert my own values because I want to avoid the anger and rejection of others.  I am overly sensitive to what others feel and adopt their mood as my own.

Control-- I resent it when my offers to help you are refused.  I use sex to get your acceptance and love. I offer suggestions and advice without being asked.  I have a need to feel needed before I can have a relationship. I go overboard with gifts and help for those I care about, thinking that the gift will extract a promise from you.  I think that others aren't capable of taking care of themselves.  I tell others how they should think and feel.  I offer suggestions and advice without being asked.

So the distorted thinking of the co-dependent in the relationship is very sick.  The behaviors that are adopted from living around alcoholism are self-defeating and hurtful.  We learn not to feel, not to express our opinions, and not to trust. It is only if we are lucky enough to get to such a low point that we are isolated, feel unloved and alone, then there is a chance that we will seek help through a 12 step program such as Al-Anon or ACOA.  If it hadn't been for my wife's alcoholism and my own sickness, as well as God's grace, I would still be a walking shell.  I am grateful to be where I am today--in recovery and still moving forward with a deepening understanding of myself and my Higher Power.

Horror movies

I used to watch scary movies when I was a kid.  Frankenstein, Dracula, the Mummy, the Werewolf were my favorites.  Every weekend I couldn't wait to see what new terrifying stuff would come on "Shock Theater".

There was the kind of love/hate relationship with the horror movies though.  That's because in the evenings I would have to go upstairs to my room and somehow manage to make it into the big old four-poster bed without having my ankle grabbed by an imaginary monster that lurked underneath.  I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I summoned up the courage to get a running start and then leap into the bed.  I would then lie still in the middle of the bed, hardly breathing,  with both arms and legs held as tight as possible to my body.  Eventually I would manage to get to sleep and wake in the morning to find that I had survived to greet another day.

I don't watch horror movies much anymore.  The old classics will occasionally come on and I will see Bela Lugosi say "I vant your blood" and laugh.  Or I might see Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster and feel sorry for the pitiful creature who really wanted to be loved.  These movies aren't scary to me now.

The fears that I have today are ones that often are more imaginary than those from childhood.  Thoughts about losing my loved ones, having my wife start drinking again, and other such projections clearly indicate that I am making a horror movie in my head.  I have learned that I don't have to be rigid with fear about what might happen.  I can turn these fears over and trust in a Higher Power that I'll make it through another day.   And the old four poster bed that used to conceal the monsters under its dust ruffle simply stands in an upstairs bed room looking comfortable and beckoning me to nestle beneath the duvet and sleep soundly.

How could we be any more different?

I wrote this thinking about a particularly bad evening.  There were a lot of ugly insults hurled back and forth.  But in the end, I couldn't beat the alcoholic at her game.  I learned that alcoholism "victimizes the victims".  Yet, after a night of crazy thinking, I awoke to realize that there is a new day and a solution. 

I am slow to anger and you flail me with your angry words.


I can accept responsibility for my wrongs and you want me to be responsible for yours as well as mine.


I have let go of my resentments through an amends to you.  You throw your resentment back in my face over and over. And resent me because of something that you did.


I want there to be trust and honesty.  You keep secrets and hide so much from me.


I have wanted happiness and good times.  You say that I have made your life miserable for many years.


I have a hard time forgetting the harsh words said in anger.  You sleep peacefully and awake in the morning as if nothing has happened.


I am weary and tired of the charade.  It has taken its toll on my heart and my mental health.  I have decided that the best thing to do is to let you go your own way.  I don't want to have you pull me closer and then push me away.  I am not ready to give in to your truths that aren't really true at all.  I am not going to be a victim in order for you to feel good about yourself.

This is what I think alcoholism does.  It beats down the psyche if I let it. It has the ability to warp my reality if I come to believe the reality that you speak.  It can make me feel less than, smaller than, and sicker than any one else if I'm not careful.   I am looking for a solution and a Higher Power that is much stronger than you.  It is within me and it is something that you can't kill. 

We were failures at relationships--Part Two

Yesterday, I wrote about how the character defects that I had dragged along with me from childhood and into my marriage set me up for failing at the very thing that I wanted:  a loving relationship.  I was clueless about what to do, even though I knew that what I had been doing wasn't working.

So I dug myself deeper and deeper into a mire of self-pity and self-disgust.  Instead of drawing people to me,  I would isolate from others because I felt so unworthy.  I would agonize over confrontations when they would occur.  I saw myself as a victim of the bad behavior of others.  As a consequence I was attracted to other victims in relationships.  I failed to take care of myself, instead focusing on others so that I would not look at my own responsibility to myself.  I confused love with pity.  And when I realized that I was making mistakes in relationships or being ill treated, I allowed it to continue because I didn't think that I deserved any better.  I was that out of touch with who I was and feared abandonment so much that I was willing to accept the behavior of sick people who were incapable of being there for me. This isn't a pretty picture. I essentially took on many of the characteristics of the alcoholic, even though I didn't pick up a drink.

My solution came from forgiveness and acceptance that I learned in Al-Anon.  And step by step, I have learned to be good to myself, to build self-esteem, to express what I want, to understand and be willing to let go of my defects, to take action rather than to react, to enjoy living and loving, to believe that there is a solution other than the one that I kept using over and over, and that the spiritual solution is real.  

In order to change, I cannot use my history of growing up in a dysfunctional family as an excuse for continuing my behaviors. Alcoholism is a terrible disease and life would be so much better without ever having to deal with all the emotional upheaval that it brings.  An important point for me to get through my head is that I don't need to constantly be criticizing myself for the way I've handled relationships in the past. They are over with.  Instead, I can concentrate on how I handle things on this day, hopefully with respect for the other and with love.

I also don't let regrets for what might have been paralyze the present, for my experiences have shaped my assets as well as my defects of character. I have learned to take responsibility for acknowledging my talents, to build my self-esteem and to repair any damage done to myself and others.  I am learning to take care of myself, mind my own business, and get on with living a life of gratitude.

Happiness is a choice-- I can choose to be happy or I can choose to let my fear take hold and be miserable. Being content is not an accidental mood created when someone else does what I want. I just need to keep the focus on what is within my power to change and what is up to my HP.  I think that way I'll be able to achieve the peace of mind and healthy relationships that eluded me for so long before recovery. There have been many difficult times in the past.  But with the help of God, my family and my friends, I can  survive the next twenty-four hours. 

"Wherever we may be in our search for healthy relationships, we have to begin where we are today. It may be painful to think how much better our relationships could have—or should have—been. There’s no point in criticizing ourselves when we did the best we could with what we had. We can gain peace of mind by putting aside what we could or should have done and by accepting who and where we are right now." from Discovering Choices.