The material presented
here is not Al-Anon Conference Approved Literature. It is a method
to exchange
information, ideas, feelings, problems and solutions on a personal
level.
About 2 months ago, I separated from my husband of 20 years, and his alcoholism has played a big part in the difficulties in our marriage. Not the only part, but of course a big part. He's not someone that appears to be an alcoholic out in the world, but he's a high-functioning drinker whose drinking all takes place at home. Most people who know him would say he's a charming, successful man, and would not suspect the way alcohol is such a big part of his life at home. Since we've separated, I've been doing a lot of work to look at my own denial, how my silence played into things over the years, and on the step of basic acceptance... Recognizing the reality of his alcoholism, accepting that that it is, how it has affected him, and how it has affected me.
My mom grew up with a father who was a violent, abusive alcoholic. I never knew him, but by the time my mom married and had us kids, her coping mechanism was to block him out of her life, never talk about him. It's how she handles most difficult things -- the messages I got growing up were that it was better to be quiet and ignore bad or hard things, that talking about them made them worse. She doesn't understand why I've gone to therapy, and often says that it just 'stirs up bad things." Of my siblings, I have always been the one asking questions, trying to understand, and as a kid I often got in trouble for speaking up. The message I got as a kid, I've realized, was that the PROBLEM wasn't the problem, it was the TALKING about it that was the problem.
So, as I am working on accepting my role in the demise of my marriage, and really SEEING the effects of my husband's alcoholism and my denial about it over these years, I am struggling with the dilemma of how to talk about it. I think about Iyanla Van Zant who I find helpful, and how she says it's healthy to "call a thing a thing." That makes sense to me. There's nothing good about denying my husband's alcoholism, and in fact I think I am where I am now because I've gone for too long denying it. It feels healthy to look at it, recognize what it is and not be embarrassed or afraid to call it what it is. I'm not talking about broadcasting it at the grocery store, you understand. I'm talking about conversations with close friends and family members, and acknowledging that alcholism has played a role in our separation.
This past weekend I had dinner with my parents, who are now in their early 80's. They've been generally supportive of my decision to separate. I've told them a bit about realizing the depth of my husband's problems with alcohol and drugs, as a way of explaining why I decided it was time to leave. I guess I should not have been surprised that my mom's reaction was to scold me in a rather stern way. "I hope you're not going to talk about him being an alcoholic," and she went on from there.
I'm trying to settle myself down emotionally from the pain of her reaction, to detach and be loving. I know that the subject of alcoholism presses very tender buttons for her that she's never addressed. I think, too, that her anxiety for me is reflected in her response, as is the generational perspective of alcoholism as something to hush up and hide. But gosh, it's a painful thing, to realize that I can't get the emotional support from my mom that I wish were there, and then to feel it push MY confused buttons about keeping silent vs being honest about the presence of alcoholism in my life as I sort through how I've come to this point and how to move on from here.
My brain is telling me that I just need to detach, accept that she is who she is and this is a painful subject for her, and I don't need to share it with her. My acceptance doesn't require me to share it with her or dump it on her. But it's painful and confusing.
My family is gathering this evening to celebrate my father's birthday and I'm still feeling wounded from my mom's harsh words a few days ago. I guess this is more work on acceptance and detaching and not letting their pain or reactions become mine or affect me.
I don't think I've read much here about how other family members' reactions as someone works through Alanon steps but I'd appreciate some ESH if anyone has anything to share on this.
Both of my parent's drank, but neither thought they had a problem. If I brought it up to my mom she was quick to deny any problems. She was always in denial even to the end. On and off while I have gone to counseling and al-anon meetings she did not get it. She did not shut me out, but I really could not discuss it with her. Both of my parents died at 84. I feel both of my parents loved each other but would not rock the boat so to speak. They just went day to day drinking, yelling and screaming. It is very hard when we do not get the support from our parents.
What is helped me in my family is to reassure myself by saying to myself (it's OK if we don't agree, it's OK if we don't see this the same way). I very much wanted us to agree that it was important, essential, life-saving even to talk about things. But, in my family, many people aren't recovered or in any kind of treatment and they still very much live with the rules of an Alcoholic family: Don't Talk, Don't Trust, Don't Feel.
For me, talking about things in Alanon meetings, in therapy, with friends has allowed me to create a new family rule for myself that I live by: It's OK to talk about things!!!
I am learning that it is OK to have different rules than my family and to live by the rules that best suit a happy, serene, productive life for me.
It's so compassionate and thoughtful of you to take your mom's perspective into consideration. I hope you also take the very best care of you and begin to talk about what you want to talk about with those that can hear you. You very much deserve to have your need to voice your experiences and share them heard by people who can hear you. For me, this is not my family. I have had to find other places.
In this time, find yourself some bread (people, places, things that are supportive of you).
But remember you can't find bread (support) at a hardware store (your mom?). This is a common saying around here.
You are already halfway there by realizing how your situation pushes HER buttons...I commend you for seeing beyond your own anger to the REAL reason behind her words and behavior. Another slogan that has helped me is QTIP -- quit taking it personally. As you have already mentioned, her reaction is much more about her than you.
claudia black writes that kids in alcoholic families LIVE by 3 rules -- don't talk, don't trust, don't feel...and then carry that into adulthood. I don't know if you have looked into ACOA supports, meetings, or literature...but you may find it helpful...
I just wanted to say a few words to validate how really WELL you are doing!
Thank you all for your thoughtful words. I'd never heard the "Don't Talk, Don't Trust, Don't Feel" reaction but it describes my mom to a T and makes so much sense. And "don't try to get bread from a hardware store" is an amusing and memorable lesson that will serve me well in a lot of areas, I think! So thank you all. Your words helped me let go of that pain and realize that I don't need to take that on.
My sponsor once asked me..."Do you have any idea what made your mother so sick?" She was not a alcoholic, she was a good woman. But in reality, she learned how to shut off her emotions very early in life while watching her father drink himself to death and the pain it caused her mother. Until the day she died, she could not comfortably talk about alcoholism. It brought back too many ol' memories of days of sorrow, shame, fear, and anxiety. So, when it was brought up... she quickly and sometimes, seemingly rudely would shut it down... as her way of shutting herself down. Emotionally. My grandfather never found freedom from alcoholism, he died on the streets of Brooklyn New York. Sad, my mother never found freedom from it either... and she didnt' even drink.
John
__________________
" And what did we gain? A new life, with purpose, meaning and constant progress, and all the contentment and fulfillment that comes from such growth."
