Respite

It was a good day yesterday spent taking an old classic sailboat down the coast to a boat yard for surveying.  The potential buyer is coming in today.  Hopefully, the old boat will have a new owner and be restored back to her former glory.  She is a gem that was custom built in 1978 at the Cheoy Lee yard in Shanghai for a former Navy Captain and his wife.  She was sailed throughout the Pacific and then over to the East coast where she was owned by a gentleman who can no longer give her the TLC that she needs.  Yesterday, she moved like a dream, and we all enjoyed feeling the sturdiness of this boat as she was underway.

Last night, calls of confusion came in from my wife's mom.  She was saying that there had been a party and all her china was broken, she hadn't had anything to eat all day, and no one was home.  Jessica, the caregiver, called to tell us that Mom was having a bad day.  Some days she is perfectly lucid and others days she isn't.

An older friend told my wife that some caregivers abuse their patients, slamming them into wheelchairs and slapping them.  We know that Jessica and Brad are great people and treat Mom with love.  And we stop by often to see her.  I suppose that there are those who just reach the end of their rope with taking care of others, whether it's the elderly, the physically and mentally disabled,  or low bottom alcoholics.  We are supposed to have compassion, but the human psyche can only take so much stress.

Sadly, the number of people who have caregiver burnout is increasing as more caregivers take on the job without getting the help they need, or try to do more than they are able to--physically or financially.  Those who are burned out experience fatigue, stress, anxiety and depression which sometimes can result in wanting to hurt those for whom they are caring.

I think that living with active alcoholism has the effect of burnout.  All the positivity of a life can become filled with anger and frustration.  Feeling that there is no one to turn to, no one to share the secret with can create such isolation that life seems hardly worth living.  And the alcoholic is likely feeling the same way--isolated, ashamed, lonely, desperate, filled with loathing.  More than one person gets lost to the disease when there is no respite from it.

We all need breaks from whatever stressful activity we are doing.  I needed it when I was working so I would take vacation days.  We give the caregivers a break by either staying there ourselves or bringing in temporary help.  And I give myself a respite now and then for no particular reason by spending a shining day on the water on an old boat.  Just keeping things in balance. It really helps.

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

Giving myself permission to not like everyone

Yesterday's meeting was a good one. The topic was about being powerless and having an understanding of what that means.

What I want to write about though is my own self-centered behavior. There is a lady who comes to this meeting only occasionally. She describes herself as a senior transplant from the northeast. She shares that she hasn't made many friends. Ordinarily, this would generate a lot of compassion, but I have to admit that she has a way of sucking the air out of the room when she shares.

Yesterday, she interrupted another member who wanted to share. She said that she needed to go first because there was something that was pressing on her mind. It was a very long share that resulted in her being cut off by the chairman. At the end of the meeting, she turned to me and asked if she could talk to me for just 5 minutes. I said sure and said that we could sit down and talk. She wanted to go outside the room because she didn't want others to hear what she had to say. I had no clue what it was about but figured that she wanted to talk more about her share.

Many in the group were planning to go to lunch to celebrate my Al-Anon birthday. My sponsor was waiting on me. I knew that the lady was long winded and to be honest, I find her off putting. I hesitated for a moment, but then said that yes I would talk with her. Several people then came over and started talking to me about lunch and giving congratulations. The lady was getting agitated at all this and was looking displeased.

Another member of the group saw the dilemma and came over saying that she would take the lady outside for a discussion. I felt this wave of relief wash over me. And immediately felt shame because I had not wanted to talk to her. I had said that I would but knew that I simply didn't want to have an intense discussion with her at that time.

The strange thing is that she came to lunch about a half an hour later with the member who had stayed to talk to her. And she seemed to have an enjoyable time. I was grateful for that.

My response to the situation bothered me and made me reflect on my behavior. I realize that we each have shortcomings. And there are going to be people with whom I simply don't mesh. There must be something that I recognize in her that triggers some discomfort in me. I don't like when this happens, but I'm glad that I recognize it. I am not sure whether this is being self-centered, or whether I can simply give myself permission to not like everybody. I am grateful that there was someone there who had a gift to give to this person that clearly I didn't have at that time.

I guess the Al-Anon closing sums it up: "After a while, you'll discover that though you may not like all of us, you'll love us in a very special way—the same way we already love you."

A story inspired by Joshua

"I'm not scared anymore, but I do worry. I don't want to grow up without my Mom. I want to have her here with me forever. I asked her once why God let this happen to us. Know what she told me? She said that God knew we were strong enough to handle it." Joshua

I followed a link to a blog about Christina's struggle with breast cancer. On her blog, she has a post written by her son Joshua. Joshua is a brave young man who has had to deal with fear about his mother's cancer. Yet, he found a way to work through that fear with the help of his family and his own positive attitude.

Reading about Joshua brought back my experience with my own mother and my wife who both had breast cancer. My mother was diagnosed when I was in graduate school. She had a radical mastectomy. I can remember the call from my father telling me that my mother had been diagnosed with cancer. I remember being worried for her. I remember how we went to see her after she had the surgery and that the right side was bandaged.

Yet, this tiny woman was upbeat and cheerful. She didn't seem worried or concerned. It was as if this was just a little inconvenience for her. She said that she would be up and going to a tea party in another week or so. And because of her attitude, I didn't worry about the outcome but felt assured that everything would be okay.

In my own selfish mind at the time, she had given me permission to go back to school and continue with my studies as if they were the most important thing in the world. And I left my mother to her own introspection about this disease.

It wasn't until much later that I learned how much my mother denied things. She was stoic in all regards and seemed so brave to me, yet in later life, she suffered from severe depression. I wonder now whether she ever had sleepless nights over the breast cancer diagnosis. I wonder whether her bravery was just a mask for denial. And that her brave front was just the sign that I needed to send me as fast as possible back to my studies so that I could sequester myself in my own controlled little world.

Breast cancer came around in my life again when my wife was diagnosed several years ago. Once again there was a stoicism and optimism that made me think that things would be okay. She also had a mastectomy. She went through a long breast reconstruction process. And I know that she cried and was apprehensive. She voiced her worries. I can remember how she would interpret every ache as metastasis, how she would pour over breast cancer books, and how she would follow a number of blogs about the disease.

Finally, we talked about the fact that it might be a good idea to move on. And that focusing on the disease, the survivors and their stories, and the roll call of the dead, may not be the best thing. Maybe that was the role model that I knew from my mother--just take a peek at this once in a while but keep the monster out of sight as much as possible.

Anyway, Joshua's story has made me realize that I needed to write about this. I needed to look back at those times, examine my thoughts, and be thankful that my mother lived a long life after her diagnosis and that my wife is still cancer free. My gratitude is overwhelming.

What can I say?

I missed posting yesterday because I dropped out of sight of technology for a day. I took the day off, walked on the beach, went out to dinner, and enjoyed every moment of an extended weekend.

I won't call this spring fever, because today is not particularly warm. But the daffodils and forsythia are blooming and buds are on the shrubs. I can feel that we're about to turn the corner of our coldest days and begin to blossom in the delight of spring in the South.

I don't think that there's much that can compare to spring down here. Everything wakes up and shouts out that it's time to put on a color display. Azaleas are everywhere with their riot of color. And the days begin to develop a languid feel to them. The first regatta of the season takes place with multi-colored spinnakers billowing on the downwind runs. And the chorus of spring peepers is amazing in the wetland near the house.

We're not there yet, but the forecast is for warmer weather this week. I can feel that collective energies are gathering to bring forth new growth. And with it, there is a spiritual reawakening that is starting to occur within me as well. Life is good.

Living one day at a time

I went to a meeting last night where the topic was One Day at a Time. Because I was on the other side of town, I couldn't make my meeting so went to a nearby AA meeting. It was interesting to hear the alcoholics' perspective since I've heard so much about ODAT in Al-Anon.
What I heard about self-pity, fears, and expectations were identical to sharings of Al-Anon without alcohol being in the mix. One person talked about escaping through alcohol because of not wanting to face fears. Once the alcohol was eliminated, then there were other means of escape through daydreaming, sleeping, reading, etc. but the fears were still hidden there beneath the surface. I guess that I'm making progress because the idea of forgiving the past and not worrying about the future seems to be what I'm living at the moment. I'm sure that I also escape by keeping busy and going places where I can meditate and think. I don't feel overcome by fear though or in a state of paralysis because of it.

I think that by living in the day, I'm able to feel much happier and nearly worry free. Listening to the alcoholics talk about their fears made me realize that we have all experienced the same kinds of pain. I just chose not to drink but rather to perfect myself to suit the needs of others. I'm learning not to do that anymore but to spend time doing those things that I need.

This recovery process can have some profound effects on those around you though. My alcoholic spouse is still sober but not being very active in attending meetings or working the steps. I get a lot of guilt tossed my way because I choose to work my program, go to a lot of meetings, and take time for myself. The "dry drunk" behavior is one that is loaded with anger and fear. After talks with my sponsor, I'm learning to detach and not buy into the alcoholic's thinking.