A small vacation

I am writing this while eating freshly picked blackberries from the garden.  The fruit is large, and the bushes are heavy with ripening berries. It's a cool spring day, good for being outside.  As usual, I have been keeping busy the garden, the animals and exercising.

Sadly, we lost another dog this week.  It was unexpected and quick: osteosarcoma of the spine. Two vertebrae were engulfed by the tumor.  So we made the decision to euthanize. I sat on the floor cradling him for about an hour and telling him what a good boy he was.

Today, I removed his dog bed from the bedroom. I put his toys away, holding them to my nose to inhale the scent of this much loved boy.  No matter what I am not prepared for them to go.  So we are down to two dogs now, and both of those are seniors.

C. has been away for a small vacation.  I missed her with an ache of loneliness.   Things seemed so empty without her being here.  Yesterday, when I picked her up from the airport, I felt as if I was emerging from a fog created by my being alone and mourning the loss of our dog.

We went by the seafood market to get some soft shell crab for dinner. Tossed them in coconut flour and fried in olive oil, they were delicious.  Soft shells are a delicacy that many people don't appreciate, but growing up on Chesapeake Bay, I was exposed to them and other regional culinary delights when I was a child.  Shad roe fried with scrambled eggs, she crab soup, brined mackerel--all good memories.

I took the senior dogs for a walk on Friday evening and captured some of the beauty of the place where we live.  I hope that you enjoy these.

Feeling at home

Happy Love Day to you, my friends.  It is a cold one here, unusual for even February.  We have a good fire going.  And some warm soup on the stove. Nothing too special but some time together.

What I want to write about is my home group.  Sadly, few people attend anymore. We were always a small group, but it seems that over the last 8 months, our numbers have dwindled remarkably.  If you recall, this was the group that my sponsor started over 20 years ago.  It was where I worked my steps and studied the traditions. It was where we did book studies.  And now, it feels like a dying group.

I have driven an hour to this group for nine years. Now, I am tired of driving the distance and have three other meetings within 15 minutes of our house.  The other meetings have from 12 to 25 people.  Yet, I feel sad at the decline in the legacy of the group where I felt most at home.

I am not going to give up and plan to be back in the spring. Hopefully, others may come back too.

Unfortunately, there appear to be a decline in some groups throughout the area. And numbers are down nationwide.  As the population ages, it seems that fewer young people are coming to the rooms.  And men are definitely rarer in meetings than women.

I am not sure why this is occurring.  Perhaps as problems in society increase, people have less time for "self help" and spend more time just making ends meet. As for lack of men, most of us are less likely to seek any help for any problems, both professionally and in a "self help" format.  Maybe it is the mention of a "God of our understanding" that is off putting.

Having tried therapy years ago,  Al-Anon was the place where it all "clicked" for me. It was where I found fellowship and support.  I learned that others had the same problems that I had.  And I learned to not hide those problems, but to share what I felt in a group of strangers.

This was hard at first. But I stuck it out and learned to trust, feel safe and be emotionally present to ourselves and others.  I believe that the fellowship is probably the reason most people stay. The real work of the 12 steps and doing service work seems to be not as high a priority.

No matter how long we go to meetings, family relationships cannot always be transformed.  I have seen individuals transform though, from angry people to those who have learned to be loving even when our families are dysfunctional. We learn to soothe ourselves, and we learn that we need to be close to others. No longer being a victim is empowering.  In the meetings I attend,  I experience patience and kindness, especially when we see traits in others that we have looked at in ourselves. As we truly learn to love and accept ourselves, these traits are seen as a reason to love than as an excuse to persecute.

I will keep coming back.  It is where I feel at home.

Hope that you are experiencing love today.

Getting through the holidays and each day

It's the time of year when so much is going on.  I have spent so little time at the computer. I apologize for not reading blogs.  And because I am truly moving to a point in life that I no longer feel the need to pour out feelings on here, I have thought about moving to another type of social media.

I have Twitter that I use sporadically. Maybe it's time to jump into the whole Facebook thing. But then I think about the ugliness that seems to be prevalent there. We don't have it ugly in our blog world--at least from the point that we aren't ugly to each other.  This is a supportive community and certainly has given me a lot over the years.  I am most appreciative of that.

My stepping into more of an activist role in the community has absorbed a lot of time.  My standing passively by when there is so much injustice happening is not something I can do.  I view this as practicing the principles of Al-Anon in all my affairs, having courage to change the things I can and speaking my truth without fear.  I don't let the problems I see take over my life though. It is important for me to maintain balance.

Regarding balance, we have been invited to quite a few parties this year.  It is quite a change that I used to be nervous about going to parties where alcohol was present. Now C. and I can go without feeling uncomfortable.  Being able to enjoy social settings has made the holidays much more enjoyable than what would happen in times past when I was gripped with anxiety about my wife's drinking.

So many though are struggling with the whole holiday scene.  Here are a few things that we talked about at a meeting this week that will help during the holidays:

• Remember the three C's: that you did not cause the alcoholism. You can't control it. You can't cure it.
• Detaching myself from the situation. I have an escape plan, a Plan B, in which I remove myself from uncomfortable situations.  I may just leave the room and walk away or if a relapse would occur, then I know to call her sponsor. 
• Doing service work and volunteering to help others. It is an excellent way to get out of your own anxiety and have a good feeling.  There are also meetings and often special events around the holidays. Even if you are traveling, there are local meetings that are being held.  Look them up and go to a meeting. 
• Going back to basics when things get stressful continues to soothe me. I remember that I am powerless over other people, places and things. I am powerless over alcohol.  I say the Serenity Prayer over and over to quiet my mind.  I remember that I may have to break things down to small time intervals by just getting through the next 10 minutes of a bad situation. 
• Not participating in blaming and recriminations helps.  I don't participate in the blame game. Again, the escape plan is useful. If things get out of hand, walk out of the room and calm yourself down so you can go back and enjoy your family.
• Plan in advance for activities. Be aware and honest with what the circumstances may be. If you know it will end badly, stay away, leave or plan for different transportation.
• Be careful and aware. Staying safe is important. Look out for yourself and seek out friends who are supportive. Refusing to get into a car driven by someone who is alcoholically impaired may save your life. 

If you have other ideas on what works for you during the holidays, please post them. I appreciate your thoughts because it is difficult to get through a time of year when expectations run so high.  Keeping my expectations low has helped a lot in not building resentment. 

Thank you for being here.  If any of you would like to share your experience, strength and hope by writing a post, just email me (sydlaughs@att.net). Wishing you the best. 

Hello Syd

Here is an email I received from a lady who is married to a recovering alcoholic. She gave me permission to share this:

I've recently found your blog while searching for any answer, message, etc to get me to a somewhat peaceful space. I'm grateful to read your good words....I suddenly felt a glimpse of hope & comfort I haven't felt in a very long time.

I've been married to an alcoholic over 20 years. He quit drinking soon after we were married. He works what seems to be a good program, has worked the steps and now has a few sponsees he takes through the steps. We have great kids, have had good success in business (as well as major setbacks), live in a nice suburb and are very involved in our community. The outside is a pretty peachy picture...one that I've always wanted. So why am I so unhappy?

I was instantly drawn to my husband when we met. He was handsome, charming, successful, strong, witty & confident. He was also very social & liked to drink. When we first started dating it seemed ok, even fun, since I also enjoyed one or two on a night out. As we spent more time together I began to notice his drinking was more like a first year frat boy. I confided this to my best friend "He's great! My only concern is that he drinks more than I'm used to" her response, "I don't think you have anything to worry about. He's mainly a social drinker, which is normal. He never gets out of hand". Ok, so it's normal. Nothing to worry about. I can accept that. After all, everything else about him seemed so amazing!

 A few minor things would come up that made me feel uncomfortable. He was very controlling, almost paranoid, about wanting to keep our relationship secret. He yelled at me once for parking my car in front of his house and made me move it to the back - out of site. I didn't like that, so I left. He called and apologized so I saw him the next day. Another time his dog got out the front door. I dashed out to try & get the dog and was yelled at to get back in the house and shut the door. He was angry. "What if someone sees you?!!" Ok, so what if someone sees me? We worked together, so his reason is that he felt he would be fired if management knew we were seeing each other since he was my supervisor (they had no such policy). The underlying message: If he were fired, it would be all my fault. That's the first time "I" took on the responsibility of "his" wellbeing. I took it willingly.....I was in love with this man.

As our relationship progressed I became increasingly unhappy. I started looking for a magic answer to fix things. Not only "what could I do to make/keep him happy" but "what could I do to prevent his anger". Each life change during our relationship gave me hope. Moving out of state, getting engaged, moving back, getting married.....none of these seemed to "do it". I mercilessly blamed myself. If only I were stronger, more patient, more educated, outgoing, etc. etc. Only once a thought crossed my mind that alcohol might be the problem. This was dismissed by well meaning friends. After many nights lying in alone bed while he was passed out on the couch, I was paralyzed with the thought of having to walk away. We were newlyweds. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

One time he had to travel out of town for business. He planned to stay with nearby family members, who happen to be sober and in AA. He opened a bottle of wine the night before his flight and joked, "Guess I'll be dry for a week. They gave me one condition. No drinking during my stay". Three days into the trip, I get a phone call. His family & friends invited him to their home group meeting. He made a choice to get sober. Wow! I listened to his words. I think that was the first sincere conversation we've had. He was scared. I was happy and also scared (or scared to be happy?)

I immediately set out to learn as much as I could about alcoholism, AA, & the steps. If he was starting this journey I wanted to be right there with him to help - as his loving, supportive, nurturing wife. I started having hope again.

Once home, he tried a few meetings & I even went with him to some open meetings. He listened to the speakers. He quickly learned the lingo & slogans. A friend gave him a Big Book. His brother (who had always been cold & distant to us) was so proud and welcomed him back into his life. Being accepted by his brother was huge. He set out to be the perfect student of the program. Hope soon turned to confusion. Things weren't magical like I wished. Anger, frustration, & depression was magnified. I was advised to be patient (haha, patience is my middle name!) I can do that.

Fast forward to today. I'm coming up on a milestone birthday. Our children will be on their own soon. I've had joy in these years. But the pain, suffering and confusion hasn't gotten any better since the beginning. I don't know who I am or what I like anymore. I feel guilty for feeling this way. My husband has managed to stay sober all these years by being involved in AA, but I feel only his sponsees and program friends get to see the best of him. Maybe because as long as I take his blame, he will continue to give it to me. When I want to talk about these feelings he says I'm blaming him for my problems. Then he presents his list: He's stayed sober, works his program, completed anger management, gone to counseling, works hard & is successful at his job. He's done all of these things so I shouldn't complain. My head spins. I beat myself up for my messed up feelings. I feel he is right. They're my issues and I need to figure it out on my own. I cry alone often. I daydream of what life would be like on my own, then cry again for the loss of my marriage, damage to my kids, and the picture that I have of us happily growing old together. Now we walk around the same house and don't talk about feelings. I'm full of sadness & resentments.

Too many years of this. I think I'm finally tired. I don't know what my future will look like. For the first time I realize there is nothing I can do about him (or anyone else). I need to take care of me. I called a trusted friend who is working the steps in Al Anon and he suggested a women's meeting I might start with. I'm going tonight. I'm scared but sensing a glimpse of peace.

Didn't set out to be so long winded...this is the first time I've shared this in detail. Reading your blog has given me clarity. Thanks for listening.
__________________________________________

I understand your story.  I've lived it also.  And you have hit upon the thing that will help--focusing on what brings you joy and taking care of yourself.  Living with an alcoholic, no matter what stage of recovery, can be a challenge. That's why I know that Al-Anon is a life long program for me. I simply need it and can tell when I have been away from a meeting for too long.


I hope that you will continue to work on your recovery from the effects of alcoholism.  It can be lonely living with an alcoholic.  I realize that most of my life, I focused on the alcoholics and not on myself. Now I am no longer doing that.  It takes a while for the message to get through to those we love that they are no longer going to be the center of the universe.  In my marriage, this has helped us to become closer because I am not having the constant expectations that bred resentment.  We talk and share things but can be content with just quietly being together.  I am not looking for her to provide me happiness. That is too much to expect from anyone.

Best wishes to you on going to a meeting and working on your own life.

A blur of days

We have been working hard to get the parent's house ready for listing with a local real estate agent. The time has flown by, with most days filled with packing up and moving boxes to storage. Yesterday was the culmination of getting it ready.  There was a showing at 3 PM so we had a blitz to finish "staging" the house.  Finally, it is done.  We can get back to some semblance of normality around here because all the effort has been going to getting the other house ready for sale.

Today is lovely.  The north wind came in overnight, so the temperatures are cool.  We've had breakfast on the porch.  I have read a few blogs and am now taking time to do a post here.  My wife is at home and not planning on going to her parent's house. Progress.

I told my story at my home group for my Al-Anon anniversary.  It felt good to share some about my past and where I am now.  The past year was one that has been so difficult due to the deaths of the parents and my cousin,  their sickness and terrible decline.

To be honest, there were times when I didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning.  I had no energy and realize that grief takes a heavy toll on me.  My wife struggled with her own sadness. Both of us were processing the losses in our own way.  She focused all her energy on packing up the house.  She wouldn't stop no matter how exhausted she was.  The handy man and I would carry the many boxes to storage. But she wanted to go through everything, sorting out those things that could be given away and those that would be saved.

I felt that separateness and loneliness returning, just as it had when her focus was on alcohol.  There was no room for me at the moment.  The difference now was that I let her be.  When she came home tired and exhausted, I would hold her close.  I would draw water in the whirlpool bath for her, pour in the bath salts, and sponge her tired body.  I cooked dinner, even if it was late in the evening.  I struggled with not asking her to stop for a few days, take a break, and relax.  I did tell her that I was concerned that she was overdoing it.

And now we are done with the house. There are a few things left to box up in the garage.  And somehow in the packing up of scrapbooks, photo albums, dishes, collectibles, linens, and all the other accumulation of 90 years of life, we have moved through grief to acceptance and joy.  We have turned the corner.

Today is beautiful so we are going to enjoy it by reading the paper, writing, picking vegetables, and going to the boat.  Emerging from sadness feels so good, like walking out of a dark cave into the light.

Methodical progression of the living

I have been doing as much busy work as I can over the last few days since Pop died. And in the evening, I fix myself something to eat and then read until I am sleepy.  There is healing in the methodical progression of the day.

Yesterday was the most difficult so far because I looked at a photo of him as a young man of ten years--a school photo in his emblemed blazer and tie, no sign of anything but innocence.  We are so young and then we get to be so old.  In between, we have so many choices on how we live each day.  I feel badly that Pop didn't have much of a choice in the last couple of years.  A nursing home was not his choice. And that hurts my heart.

My wife has been calling several times a day.  She too is feeling sad.  Tomorrow she comes home.  I wish that she were staying in that healing location with the sea and sand a few more days.  I believe that the loss will hit her harder when she comes home.

I am going to pick up all of Pop's things today at the nursing home.  That way the room will be vacated and readied for someone else.  I would like for there to be another way for the sick and aged to live out their final days.  Mom died at home. But Pop's medical condition with late stage liver failure was just too dire for home health care. He needed to be in a place where there was nursing care and a doctor on staff around the clock.  At least, that is what I am telling myself to assuage my guilt.

I think that this morning, I'm going to a meeting.  I have let the fellowship know what is going on.  Once again, the local AA's have not called.  I have heard from a few Al-Anon people, expressing their care and concern.  But this time, I expected nothing based on the lack of response when Mom died. When the funeral staff gave me a little book so that I could write down what people brought to the house in the way of food, etc., I thought inwardly that the book will remain blank.  And so it has.

Death is an uneasy subject to think about. And so much death in such a few months is even harder to imagine.  At the moment, I am really okay with just being by myself, going about my day, listening to the birds, the rain coming down.  It's all okay for me because I have lowered my expectations of humanity.  We are just people trying to get through life until we ourselves die.

Home alone

My wife left on Friday for a week long vacation in New England.  She is staying on one of the Cape's islands with some friends from graduate school.  This is a much needed vacation for her.  I've talked to her several times since she left, and she is happy and relaxed.  That is enough to make me so very happy too.

In the meantime, since she left, I have been keeping busy with the yard and garden.  Today I went to the boat for a couple of hours.  It felt good to be on board for a little while, and then I had to get home to take care of the animals.  Pandora is fitting in nicely with the other cats.  She is eating well and purrs every time I come near her.

The blueberries are ripe in the garden so I've been eating them every day for about a week.  I've picked several tomatoes as well, and they are ripening on the window sill. And the eggplant are starting to ripen too.  It looks like a good year for the garden. The drip irrigation system helps a lot, and it's on a timer which makes things easy.

I am going to see my father-in-law tomorrow.  Hopefully, he will feel good enough to be pushed along in his wheel chair outside.  He is so very thin and fragile.  My wife and I can sense that his death is not far away.  I don't think that he ever really got over his wife's death.  But it is father's day, and I want to spend some time with the old man.  

Next week, I will be back at meetings.  I'm chairing one on the newest Al-Anon book Many Voices, One Journey. I'm going to focus on the period from1925-1950, the time of active alcoholism and isolation that started founders, Lois and Bill Wilson, on the road to recovery.  Who knew that Al-Anon used to be called "Non-Alcoholics Anonymous," or that sometimes women whose husbands started drinking again were asked to stop coming to meetings, or that there was a major fight over whether to allow adult children of alcoholics to join the fellowship? 

That's about it from here.  I hope that your weekend is going well. 

The great paradox

It was blowing a gale today.  And there was a little rain that fell, but hardly enough to do much soaking of the ground.  It was too windy to go rowing, so I went to see my father-in-law at the physical rehab facility.

He is doing about three hours of exercise a day, including cycling, elliptical trainer, and weight lifting.  He looks great--better than I have seen him look in a long time.  Today, he went with his physical therapist to Starbuck's to get coffee.  He seemed to have really enjoyed his day.  He is hoping to be out before Christmas.

I really feel for the people who are in the rehab facility.  Most are alone in their room.  Few have visitors.  I passed through the dining room this evening, only to see a little old lady sitting all alone.  It made me realize how sad old age can be, how isolating it is to sit without a loved one around.  I am going to visit with some of the people the next time I go there, if only for a little while.

Not much else is going on here. Tomorrow there is a Christmas party to attend.  I used to dread parties.  The ones that I go to now are not big drinking affairs.  In fact, people drink normally or not at all.  And everyone goes home by ten. It's comforting to attend parties where no one gets out of control.  It surely has been a pleasant change from the wild parties that we used to attend. I don't know why  I even went to some of those, except to watch over C.  And that didn't usually work out too well.

We are going to have a big cooking extravaganza in the days ahead to make cranberry relish, cranberry nut bread, peppermint bark, pepper jelly and some cookies as gifts for friends.  I also ordered a few small gifts for C.  I simply couldn't stand to see any look of disappointment on her face on Christmas morning.  I still want to protect her, even though I know that I can't.

Well, that's about it from here.  Time for some sleep.

It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox. ~Nicolas Sparks

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

The casualties of alcoholism/addiction

Meetings and discussions this week with those I sponsor were about how trust goes out the window when alcoholism and addiction are front and center.  It seems that addictive behavior means having to say "I am sorry" over and over, until finally, those words are no longer meaningful to those who have been repeatedly hurt by believing them. Addiction is often said to be a disease of denial,  but it is also a disease of regret. As the disease progresses,  the emptiness of what has been lost is filled with regrets, "if-only"s and "could-have-been"s.  There are lots of casualties that occur with addictive behavior.  The truth is probably the first thing to be cast aside and squandered.  Not only does the alcoholic/addict deny the truth to himself, but as the disease progresses, lying becomes a habit.  Most who are active in their disease are practiced at lying in all matters related to the defense and preservation of the addiction.   Evasion, deception, manipulation, and other techniques for avoiding or distorting the truth are necessary parts of the addictive process.  The fundamentally insane and unsupportable thinking and behavior of the alcoholic/addict must be justified and rationalized so that the addiction can continue and progress. I have heard and read a lot of sharings by alcoholics.  It seems that the disease protects and strengthens itself through being "terminally unique".  I also hear this in Al-Anon as well, from those who are convinced that their situation is different and worse than others.  Being able to reconcile behavior due to special considerations provides an explanation for the preservation of the disease.  The thinking may go something like this:  Under ordinary circumstances and for most people getting drunk  (or nagging) all the time is bad. My circumstances are not ordinary and I am different from most people. I have more stress than most.  I feel anxious and down.  Therefore I need to drink (or nag) because of my special circumstances.  This is delusional thinking.  For the individual in the grip of addiction,  it all seems rational that his circumstances are such that ordinary rules and norms of behavior don't apply to him at the present and must be bent or changed because of his special needs.  It is a charade that is often accompanied by a promise to get back on track as soon as the "right" circumstances permit.  This is the mindset of those who make promises to "quit drinking when my mind quiets down" or who say, "I have to drink because I have so many problems and can't cope", or that "I have the right to be angry because I live with a drunk." The behavior of being "terminally unique" is not believed after a while by anyone.  The same old song and dance over and over strains relationships.  It doesn't take long to reach the conclusion that the alcoholic/addict isn't to be believed in matters pertaining to his addiction.  I heard a lot of times that "this is the last drink".  It may be well-intentioned at the time but eventually the old behavior would return, the "terminal uniqueness" would take hold, and the excuses and alibis for continuing to drink would come up. This behavior repeated over and over does a lot of damage in relationships.  At the time, the promises seem sincere and probably are.  But as the promises are broken time and again,  the hope and joy gives way to bitter disillusion.  I think that Lois W. explains this well in her book about how she lost hope and was bitterly disappointed by Bill W.'s relapses.  How many times do family members ask: "If you really love and care about me, why don't you stop what you are doing?"  And most of the time the answer back is another promise to do better, or as the disease progresses, the alcoholic will point out the faults of those who are nagging him to stop.  This is the "the best defense is a good offense" maneuver.  The alcoholic thinks of himself as the victim of the unfairness of the family who are nagging about his drinking. The family may start to feel crazy with feelings of self-pity, resentment and fear.  Relationships totally collapse in the downward spiral of mistrust.   Those who keep trying to preserve a relationship with individuals who are in the throes of progressive addiction come to feel as if they are not as important as the bottle.  The "less than" feeling takes hold because the family begins to feel that the addiction is more important than they are.   And at the time, they are right. Questions, discussions, presentations of facts, confrontations, pleas, threats, ultimatums and arguments are all part of dealing with alcoholism.  Sometimes these ultimatums work at getting all parties into recovery.  Or the pleas will fall on deaf ears. And the delusions continue that "no one is being harmed by drinking"; "I can stop at any time"; "drinking is necessary to deal with the crappy circumstances of life". Those who express concern are to be avoided and are often criticized.   Sadly, those who care about the alcoholic the most begin to feel crazy as the disease progresses.  Emotional and social withdrawal, secrecy, fear and shame are just some of the feelings of those who live with active addiction.   Fear, anger, confusion and depression often result.  None of this is pretty.  There are times that I need to remind myself just how fortunate I am to have gotten help before I became a casualty of alcoholism.

Missing my home group

I am missing my home group. It has been about two months since I last went to a meeting there. I have had class every Monday evening and, thankfully, the final exam will be handed out next week.  So I will at last be able to return and get back into my regular meeting routine.

Our numbers at the home group have dwindled somewhat, but that is what has become so appealing to me. It is a small group where I feel very much like I can share about what is on my mind.  I am glad to see these people and believe that they are glad to see me.  It's a comfort to know that they are there. And the drive is wonderful, going over country roads and seeing the Lowcountry marshes sets my mind at ease and my heart singing.  It is just like coming home. 

Sadly, one of the members who accepted the GR position has been going through a very tough time lately.  Her father is critically ill and is not expected to recover.  She has basically shut herself off from the fellowship and from those who would like to help her.  She is angry and feels very much alone.  I am sorry that she feels this way.  I know that we have made offers to help her in whatever way we can.  I dropped off a casserole for her two weeks ago as she was wanting people to bring over food.  I haven't heard from her since.

I know that I could keep calling her but that seems a lot like badgering her.  I know that if she needs something, she has my phone number along with the numbers of every one else in the group.  Seeing someone fade away before your eyes has to be an extremely difficult thing.  I feel for her and hope that God gives her the strength to get through the whole ordeal.  And hopefully, she will realize that she isn't really alone. 

I know that should I have a crisis in my life, there are many people that I can call.  They would be there for me to help out.  I also realize that no one can solve these crises that occur in life for me.  I have to work through them and walk through them.  God will give me strength to get through somehow. Just as I hope that she will get some strength from the God of her understanding.

Alone with the killer

Following yesterday's post, I was thinking (sometimes dangerous for me) about how a perceived feeling of hopelessness can feed on itself, growing tentacles until it permeates every fiber of our being. I've sat in restaurants, which is one of my favorite places to people watch, and observed how alone people seem even when they are with another. Just a few days ago, I watched the blank stares of a middle aged couple, intent on chewing and staring at their mashed potatoes as if they were tea leaves foretelling the future.

I would wonder what these two were thinking. And why weren't they looking at each other, or saying something even if it was a trite comment such as "This gravy is a little watery." Yet, each seemed oblivious to the other, each lost in thought. Unfortunately, I don't think that this is unique. From my own experience, I've been in a room of over a hundred people and felt as alone as if I were on an iceberg floating in the southern ocean.

Such retreating inside my head was never a good choice for me. And that's because I tend to think too much, over analyzing just about everything. I often catch myself talking out loud when there is nobody in the room. Although most of you will say, "okay Syd, you are over the edge and ready for the rubber room", I can tell you that speaking something out loud that is stuck in a "do loop" in my head helps.

I think that is probably because I need to export the stuff that I'm thinking out of my head. I need to get out of myself and stop having a monologue about me. Because when I'm in my own head, oblivious to what or who is around me, then I am alone with the "killer".

This "killer" keeps me isolated, insecure and full of fear. It keeps me unaware, shut down, and will eventually kill all joy that I could experience. So what I see on many faces as I people watch is that they are alone with their "killer". I can see the thoughts grinding in their head as they chew their food. I don't know what their thoughts are, but I can bet that they aren't about adventure, excitement, joy, or spontaneity.

Suffering in silence seems to be a tragic part of alcoholism. One of the astounding things about being in recovery is that all the silent suffering I did, all the intellectualizing, all the hurtful thoughts that I kept inside, did nothing to make the problem go away. In fact, it only made me feel worse. I think each of us has been alone with the "killer", but I don't have to do that anymore. I may still suffer, but I don't have to do it alone.

I think that is one of the greatest things about recovery. I get to sit in a room full of other people several times a week, listen to them, be aware of their tears, their laughter, their smiles, their fidgeting hands and legs, and become free of what is in my own head. And instead of talking out loud to the ether, I get to say to others, and to my Higher Power, what is on my mind, and they get it. That is an awesome thing.

Home alone

My wife is out of town for a few days. She went up to NC to visit friends. I'm here at home today, having taken a day off to paint the bottom of the boat. I haven't made much progress because the day has been soggy, and I woke up to rain pouring down. That translates to good sleeping weather.

I decided to sleep in until after 7 AM and then walked the dogs in the slackening rain. I fixed a good breakfast with homemade pancakes and then sat down to read the paper with a cup of coffee. Next, I began to catch up on some blogs that have been neglected for a day or so.

So I haven't gotten any painting on the boat done, but I'm having a relaxing day. I can see the sun coming out and as soon as the boat dull dries, then I'll crawl under it to start painting. No hurries though because I feel as if I have all the time in the world.

Whenever my wife is away and I'm here alone, it feels good to me. It isn't that I don't miss her, but I'm relishing the time that I have to myself. I don't seem to feel a lot of the pressures when I'm home alone. I basically can have this be my time at the house. There is no long list of things in my head that need to get done, no conversation to make except to the dogs who could care less, no meal preparation other than throwing a pizza into the over or a steak on the grill. I'm just comfortable with a few days of me time.

Tonight I'm going to fix the minimum for dinner, maybe watch a movie later, and have a couple of dogs lying at my feet. This quiet isn't unnerving but comforting. Enjoy your day however you like.

Scenes from the weekend

I thought that I'd start off this Monday with some photos from our voyage along the Intracoastal Waterway to Capers Island.

We had a nice easy trip. It takes about 3 hours to get there and we arrived about an hour after dark on Friday evening.

As we were transiting there were some interesting sites along the way. We passed under the Ben Sawyer Bridge which is an old swing bridge. And just beyond that is a place of intrigue, Goat Island, which is a tiny island located on the ICW behind the resort island Isle of Palms. There is an interesting story about Goat Island (The following is excerpted from an article by Maria Zone).

In the early ’30s, a man and his wife lived there without electricity or water. The man, Henry, was a local who decided to free himself from the stresses of modern society. The couple were repelled by development occurring so they retreated to seclusion on their own deserted island – an island whose only inhabitants were a herd of goats.

Even though the Goat Man and his wife only lived 200 yards from the shore of the Isle of Palms, they shunned the developers and life on the far side of the waterway. They learned to naturally accept what God provided them with, drinking rainwater and eating the native vegetation. The island provided them with shelter from the rain, shade in the summer and firewood to knock off the chilly winds of winter.

They lived au naturelle, collecting discarded debris that drifted onto the shores and into their lives as the tide changed. They were true purveyors of the floatsam and jetsam of society.

The Goat Man and his wife eventually accepted visitations from those curious people who transited the waterway in their yachts. They were gracious to those who offered sandwiches and leftovers from a day of picnicking on nearby Dewees Island.

During the Goat man’s 32 years of self-imposed exile, civilized people in nearby communities knew that the Goat People were out there, across the waterway. But people denied the possibility that their simple lifestyle was a choice and the couple was sane.

The legend continued over the years. Children were told that the island was haunted because of the voices and sounds that were heard across the water. Some children dared to cross the short distance from the Isle of Palms to Goat Island to see for themselves. They discovered that the alien sounds were the soulful singing of a content, solitary man.

In 1961, after 30 years of living in the natural elements, the Goat Man accepted a small hut as a Christmas gift from generous neighbors who were concerned that the couple was too old to live an unsheltered life. But soon after they moved in and took shelter from the same elements of nature that had provided for them in the past, tragedy struck. The Goat Man caught pneumonia and died. His wife, Blanche, was left to carry on the legend and tradition alone.

Blanche lived on without her husband in solitude on Goat Island for almost a year. But tragedy again struck. She died from burns received in a fire caused by the wood burning stove that was also a handout from her civilized neighbors. Their paradise was left deserted to be overrun by looters who destroyed the organization of uncivilized life, in search of hidden wealth and buried treasure.

The only investment that the Goat Man and his wife ever really treasured was their partnership with nature and the life it yielded them. Their paradise didn't include material things, prestige or social acceptance. There was nothing there that looters could steal either before or after they died. Instead, their wealth was their ability to live a quiet life in full harmony with their surroundings.

I think that I would like to live like the Goat Man at times. And for a few days I did. Here are a few more photos from the trip.

Photos from top:

Ben Sawyer Bridge on ICW

Goat Island on Waterway

Maritime Forest on Capers

Large alligator sunning

Bone yard on Capers

Bone yard at sunset

A bit lonely

Take care of yourself my darling
And I'll take care of me
Live your loneliness knowing
That we can both be free.
--Mary Lee George

Today has been a bit lonely. I took my wife to the airport this morning. She has had the flight schedule from Hell with one flight cancelled, another delayed, and still another airport to get through. If the rest of the trip goes as anywhere near planned, she will get into Providence tonight around 8 PM. She was supposed to have arrived at 11:20 AM this morning.

After seeing her off, I came home and did some busy work around here. It hasn't been a bad day but one that reminds me how nice it is to have someone here in this big house. I know that I'm okay with feeling a bit lonely. It doesn't have anything to do with anyone else or my feeling unloved. It's as if I want to have someone to play with, yet there isn't anyone at the moment. Maybe it's just a break from my usual routine of being on the boat. There isn't much time to feel lonely out there.

Because I got up at 4 AM, I'm going to stay home today and not go to the boat. I'll do that tomorrow. In the mean time, I'm going to bake a pizza and make a salad. There's nothing like some comfort food. I'll wait for her call later this evening with the hope that she has arrived safely.

Drinking: A Love Story

I have been reading another recovery book. This one is by Caroline Knapp and is called Drinking: A Love Story. This is her story of alcoholism, how she hit bottom and how she sobered up. Here is one of the passages that touches on the hardships of first becoming sober. It also gives an idea of what a great writer she was:

There’s something about facing long afternoons without the numbing distraction of any sort of anesthesia that disabuses you of the belief in externals, shows you that strength and hope come not from circumstances or the acquisition of things but from the simple accumulation of active experience, from gritting the teeth and checking the items off the list, one by one, even though it’s painful and you’re afraid....Passivity is corrosive to the soul; it feeds on feelings of integrity and pride, and it can be as tempting as a drug. If it feels warm and fuzzy, it is probably the [addictive] choice. If it feels dangerous and scary and threatening and painful, it is probably healthy.

I think that she is writing about the essence of what I have felt. A discomfort with myself and how there are many ways to block out discomforting thoughts that don't have anything to do with substance abuse. I think that over the last couple of years, I've learned to trust my feelings more. And by being honest with myself and my HP about who I am, I have become less fearful about feeling fear and have instead begun to learn from it.

Ms. Knapp died in 2002 from lung cancer. From what I've read, she was a life-long smoker. It's clear from her memoirs that she had a lot of class. And she was a gifted writer. She writes about rehab and the AA meetings she attended. And she writes about her struggle to overcome anorexia which she believed was linked with her disease of alcoholism.

This is really a poignant memoir of someone who appeared so out of sync with herself. She writes about how daunting it was for her to grow up and begin to face her fears.

It seems like such an obvious insight, so simple it borders on the banal, but I'd never before really grasped the idea that growth was something you could choose, that adulthood might be less of a chronological state than an emotional one which you decide, through painful acts, to both enter and mantain. I'd spent most of my life waiting for maturity to hit me from the outside, as though I'd just wake up one morning and be done, like a roast in the oven. But growth comes from the inside out, from trying and failing and trying again. You begin to let go of the wish, age-old and profound and essentially human, that someone will swoop down and do all that hard work, growing up, for you. You start living your own life.

This is a book in which I recognized feelings that I've known and feelings that I've heard expressed by my wife. I highly recommend it.

Withholding

Since being in the program, I know that I haven't been totally present in a couple of relationships. One has been with my wife, who I love but have also pulled away from in recent years. I think it's mainly been to protect myself and make myself less vulnerable. Sometimes my body has been present and my mind hasn't been. Sometimes my mind has been present but my body has shut down.

I think that at the time I entered Al-Anon, I needed time out in the relationship. Maybe it was appropriate and healthy to shut down at that time. As my recovery has taken steps forward, I've focused on the things that I want to do. I've not shut my self off in the relationship anymore, but I'm not as available or present as I once was.

And in a friendship that I've written about on here, I've basically let it go. After making my amends, I pulled away and have heard nothing from the person. It's as if the friendship didn't exist. I think that I was unavailable to the friendship during the time when I started in the program. I was no longer present or the same person as I was before.

And then there is my avoidance of a meeting where I originally started in Al-Anon. I began in Al-Anon there but found that over time, the dominance of one person made me uncomfortable. So I decided to attend other meetings and effectively closed myself off from that group.

And now I'm wondering whether these were all healthy choices or part of some kind of withholding and relationship sabotaging on my part. By withholding and departing, the other person can do nothing in the relationship when we are gone.

So I'm pondering what I accomplished by backing away. Was it because I needed some time to get my own head together? Did I need time to heal? To sort things out? Or was I using some old adaptive behaviors from my past in which I hid, ran or let go of relationships because I was afraid that there was no other way to take care of myself? Dog eat dog, run or be killed, hide or be found.

Today, I believe that in my marriage I have become a different person. I am no longer just there because of another but am working on a life that includes things that I want to do. In many ways, it's a much better relationship than before. Not as confining, not as predictable, not as filled with anxiety. It's as if I have become my own person and not an extension of another.

In the friendship, I withdrew because I couldn't foresee that there was anything left on which to base a friendship. My repeated attempts to call or contact the person were largely ignored. So during the amends, I saw that the other person had decided to shut down and no longer wanted to be available. I accept and respect that decision.

In the case of the dominant "leader" of the meeting, I sense that the other person is controlling and manipulative. I don't get a feeling of warmth and love. I don't get a feeling that the person "walks the walk". The amends born of my resentment to her is one that I need to make. And then I can move on.

Withholding can be a double edged sword. It can excise those people that may be harmful but it can also sever relationships that we didn't intend to remove. Handle with care. It cuts both ways.

Pulling together

One the great thing about the program is that we don't have to go it alone but can count on others to be there to help us get through good and bad times. I've always been a loner preferring to isolate myself because of the fear of being rejected.

What I've learned over the past year is that there are so many others who have also tried to go it alone and just get by on self-will. It's a much better way of living when we learn that if we pull together we can experience happiness. By sharing our experience, strength and hope, we not only help ourselves to recover but we help others as well.

I chaired the Beginner's Meeting today for the first time. We talked about the Serenity Prayer and Step One. The beginners shared about what brought them to Al-Anon. I've signed up to do this every week as I enjoy it. It reinforces for me that we have a common problem and that by working the program, we learn from each other.

Staying engaged

I've had a good work week, having to make a talk today at a national program review. It went well and I was glad to talk with my colleagues. I had a good feeling at the end of the day that I had done my best. Based on that, I was happy as I went home and got an opportunity to then just relax. I like work weeks that are filled with activities and interactions. Many times, I am in my office at the laboratory where I work, solitary and working on data or a report. I like my solitude but also enjoy getting together with other scientists and participating in discussions about programmatic direction.

Sometimes too much solitude gets me too far inside my head. I like staying engaged with others and find that I take comfort in being around other people. I often have to make sure of my motives though because the need to be engaged with others can be directly related to some fear that I may be feeling and don't want to face when I'm alone. But today I am just enjoying the intellectual discussion and not feeling overcome by fear or self-will. I'm glad to have this day and am looking forward to more discussions tomorrow.

There are times when I think that I have the greatest job in the world. I suppose that's why I got into this field to begin with. It's not only intellectually challenging but also has allowed me to see so many interesting things.

Lonely but not Alone

I've spent most of my life feeling apart. I've come to realize that many people in recovery, whether AA or Al-Anon, have felt this same way. Some days it borders on getting stuck in self pity to be lonely while on others I find that I revel in just being by myself.

The difference is that I know that I'm not alone anymore. I have my friends in the program, family who care, and my HP. So even though I may want companionship at times, I know that I can reach out now to others and there will be a friendly voice or a kind smile. Most importantly though, I can just be with myself and be satisfied. I'm finding that I'm not afraid of loneliness or loss as I was when I was a child. That's a big step for me.