Expectations. We all have them. We expect our kids, our spouse our parents and even our friends to act a certain way. When they don't, we become upset, angry, disillusioned and sometimes it causes us to react in ways that are not totally becoming to us. The fact is....to expect is human nature. It is especially human nature when it is our child. When you have raised a child and you know they know right from wrong, good from bad and what is expected of them and you know who they are as people and then they suddenly start acting like someone born in a barn with no morals, no back bone and no good sense...then tempers will flair and we will lose touch with our prettier side. We as parents become disappointed, angry and we have no understanding of WHY?!
Until I started going to Al-Anon, it never occurred to me just how much I expected of others nor how upset I became when they didn't live up to those expectations. I viewed people a certain way and felt I had a pretty good handle on how others should and would react to certain situations. It was my expectation that they would live up to what I expected.
Looking back, long before I had an addict son, people were known to disappoint me. My dad was supposed to be emotionally supportive because that is what dads do. My dad wasn't and didn't and it hurt. However, it didn't stop me from continuing to expect it. My husband was supposed to grow old with me. He didn't. He died. You can imagine the disappointment and pain there. My friends were supposed to understand the times when I wanted to be social and also the times I didn't. When my friends quit trying, I was crushed and angry. Then I would reset and start the whole expecting all over again, only to be just as crushed and angry the next time. What I didn't realize then was, this was not on them. This was fully and squarely on me. I had expectations that these people didn't ask for or necessarily want....and probably didn't even know existed and yet when they failed me by not living up to what I thought they should. I was angry at them and I usually acted out and caused a friction that put a strain on the relationship.
Jump ahead to the point where I now have an addict son. You can only imagine all of the time I kept expecting from him while I lived in total denial of who he was becoming and what he was doing. I spent so much time wondering where I went wrong when I would expect him to respect the house rules....and he didn't. When I expected him to be kind to the neighbors, family and women in general.....and he wasn't. When I expected him to get a job and keep it.....and he couldn't, and when I expected him to speak to me with respect......and he refused. I felt as if I had walked into an alternate universe when he looked at me as if I were the crazy one while I stood there screaming to the top of my lungs demanding respect, demanding he get a job and demanding that he quit being a jack ass to everyone who came in contact with him. The fact is, we both had expectations at the time and neither of us was living up to the others. I expected him to act like a decent, kind and loving human being (according of course....to my standards) and he expected me to leave him alone, turn a blind eye to the negative things he did and believe whatever lie came out of his mouth (just because he said it). We failed each other daily with our expectations and spent most of our waking hours angry, fighting and in a very negative head space. It was miserable.
Once I started working my program though and reading my books, I started realizing that the person I was now dealing with, had no ability whatsoever to live up to mine or anyone elses expectations. Meth had messed with his brain so badly that when he was using his mind was chaotic, paranoid and very much in a thought process I couldn't even understand, let alone have any expectations of. Not only that though, when I started reaching deeper inside of me, that is when I realized that it wasn't just my son. It was everyone, that I had expectations of. I had felt let down by everyone in my world at some point and in most cases it was because of my expectations.
Now I look at life and people in particular in a much different way. Addicts included, my expectations are usually not fair. Thinking that people will act or react according to my rules in life forgetting that they have their own set of rules to live by has been an issue for me in the past. It brings up the question, how many people have I disappointed because of their expectations of me? It is a humbling thought. Today, if I want or need something from someone, instead of just expecting them to psychically know it, I simply ask. I ask with the knowledge that the answer may possibly be "no" and that if it is, I must be accepting of it. No longer do I just take for granted that another person is going to act or react according to my thoughts or beliefs, even on things as fundamental as love, honesty and respect. Instead, I assume that they may come from a different environment, situation, lifestyle or even thought process and that communication rather than expectation is the key.
As for my addict, understanding that I can't have expectations of him and that I must accept him for who he is and not who I want or expect him to be has been huge. This does not give him free reign to cause chaos though, because along with no expectations also come boundaries that I have made clear to him. I accept who he is as person and that currently he is an addict, but he knows that in order to have a place in our home and in our lives requires him to get clean and stay clean. It is not an expectation and ultimately it is a choice that he has to make for himself. If however, his choice is to keep using, he knows that I will always love him but that I can't be a part of the world he has chosen.
Through Al-Anon, I have learned that expectations of other human beings can be the road to disappointment, anger and even destroyed friendships and relationships. To expect is to push your agenda onto another and frankly, their own agenda might be quite different than yours. As for the alcoholics and addicts in your life, please remember that they aren't capable of living up to anyone's expectations. If they aren't kind enough, loving enough, receptive enough or respectful enough, it is not necessarily because they don't want to be, it is because they are listening to the lies that drugs and alcohol tell them and at the end of the day, you expecting more from them will just disappoint you both.
Until next time........
Friday, December 28, 2018
Saturday, December 22, 2018
Detachment....The Action Verb of My Life
Detachment! It was the first word I actually heard when I walked into my first Al-Anon meeting. Of course I had heard the word before and knew its meaning, but had never really thought of it as pertaining to my life or to me as a mother. As I walked away that day, detachment became my action verb, my mantra and my salvation.
I grew up in a world, where the only detachment came from my father. He and my mother were divorced and his whole life had been detachment, as getting too close or too invested in anyone, including his family was foreign to him. You could say, it was a long standing family tradition for his side of the family. My mother on the other hand was a typical mother of her generation with the added weight of being a single mom and carrying the burden of all things physical, emotional and spiritual for us kids. She clung to us and our unconditional love and we to her. She was our everything and we were hers and she protected us from...well....everything! Yes, I learned enabling from the best.
Growing up, as was typical of most families in our generation, you didn't talk politics, religion or anything having to do with the family outside the family. You put up a good front in public at all costs and this meant parents "fixing" any mistakes or mishaps before the story got out in the community. I grew up thinking that my mom was the Superman of our family and that no matter what happened, she would make it okay. Having this example, I literally believed that it was a mom's duty to "fix" everything and to "protect" my kids at all costs....it didn't matter what they did.
Now bring on this new generation. The generation of my kids is much different than the generation I grew up in. In my generation, the fixing parents had to do was maybe a traffic violation, underage drinking or an unplanned pregnancy. We were a pretty docile group and although things seemed pretty severe at the time, they were actually a walk in the park compared to this new generation.
Maybe it was the onset of video games and the technology of computers and cell phones that started it all. Our kids spent too much time tuned in to all the wrong things and were influenced more by the world than by their own families. Maybe it was the inundation of drugs, criminals and disrespect for women and humanity in general that was thrown at them in music, TV and movies. Or....maybe it was just the fact that we as parents were so naive that we thought our kids were above the influence of drugs and the drug culture and we ourselves had no idea what to look for or even what we were dealing with. Whatever the case though, when it hit my doorstep, I didn't recognize it, didn't believe it and I did what I do best.....I was mom. I denied, enabled, protected, fixed and enabled some more.
By the time denial was no longer an option, I was so far in over my head that I was literally questioning my own sanity. My kid had at some point gotten the jump on me and he was completely out of my league when it came to manipulation, control and gas lighting. Things I never could have imagined him doing including but not limited to being abusive verbally and physically to me and other women, going after family members and neighbors and stealing, seemed to come easy to him. I lied for him though, I protected him and made excuses for him. I was running around behind him constantly trying to "fix" the havoc and chaos he left in his path. In the process I was becoming more inundated in a world of drugs and violence, a world that I never wanted to be a part of. My son was going down a horrific path and I was tagging along as much a part of his destruction as he was. I was aiding and abetting every time I "fixed" his chaos.
Each day, along with the hell his addiction was bringing to my life, I was also finding that I was hating me more and more. I had turned into a liar. I was lying to everyone, family, friends and complete strangers all in the name of protecting my son. I was losing the battle with my son and addiction and I was losing control of my own life in the process. Many days I didn't have the strength or the will to even get out of bed, let alone fight the next battle or battles that would undoubtedly hit me that day. Looking back, I was becoming depressed. I was also starting to have to deal with anxiety, something that was new to my life. Panic attacks were now becoming just a part of my day. So was crying. I was not an emotional crier, but the frustration and anger were building up in me and my emotions were nothing but one raw nerve. It seemed like daily I was being pushed to the brink and hard as I tried, those damn tears would get the best of me.
On the outside looking in, my home must have looked like a dysfunctional hell and I must have looked like I was turning into this lying, delusional and withdrawn crazy woman. People knew something was going on. Heck, most probably knew that drugs were the problem before I did and my family and friends were just about ready to throw in the towel where I was concerned. After all, you can only do so much and say so much to someone who is so immersed in denial that they are drowning in a foot of water and refuse to stand up. Lucky for me, I eventually got a good look at myself, my life and the other family members that my sons addiction was affecting....and I did stand up.
When I heard that word detachment that day, I clung to it with all I had. I heard people in that meeting discuss how hard detachment could be and how long it took some to achieve it, but for me, in that moment, it was my key out of the hell I was living in. I do remember wondering if I was going to be able to carry through with this new found verb. After all, detachment meant that I could no longer voice an opinion and demand that it not only be heard but also carried out, that I could no longer manipulate, coerce and that I was no longer in control of his life. (Little did I know that I never really had been.) Still though, I knew at that moment that if it meant me no longer feeling crazy, used, disrespected, depressed, anxious...did I say crazy.....then I was going to give it my best effort.
My first attempts at detachment were small in retrospect but huge at the time. The first time I left him off at a gas station not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. The first time I refused a phone call from him or cut a text short because he was being hateful and demanding. In the moment they were enormous for me as a week ago I couldn't have done it. Then there was finding out he was living on the street. I struggled because what mother allows their kid to live on the street? Then there was the first time he got beat up on the street. I did immediately run to his aid, but on the way there I used my Al-Anon tools and questioned what the real story was. By the time I got there, my head was in a much different place and the event did not turn out as my son had hoped. I left him on the street.
As time went on though, detachment did become easier. The gift in detachment though, was that by staying out of his life, his business, his world of drugs and addiction, I started seeming him differently too. When you are on the inside of a situation, your vision is often obscured because of the turmoil. Mine definitely had been. But when you step outside and look in, often it clears your vision and you see things in a much different way. Instead of seeing my son as this addicted monster who I could hardly stand anymore, I was starting to see a good human being with a really bad problem. I also was realizing that because of my own actions of denial, fixing and enabling, I had been as much a part of his problem as his addiction had been a part of mine. How many times had I stepped in and "fixed" a problem for him that maybe was intended as a life lesson? Perhaps if he had faced that problem himself, that lesson would have been learned a lot sooner. Detachment was giving me clarity I had never before had.
Don't get me wrong. Detachment didn't come over night and it wasn't always an easy road for me. There were times when I struggled and I had to go to a meeting, talk to my sponsor, talk to my person outside of Al-Anon or all three before I could detach from the situation, but each time I had peace of mind following it and it always turned out to be the right thing for both me and my son.
When they say addiction is a disease that affects the whole family, they aren't lying. It does. Nothing can destroy a family faster than an addiction. That is why recovery is a family thing and not just for the addict. Sometimes, the addict never chooses recovery but if the family seeks recovery, the family situation will definitely improve.
I pray everyday that my son...my addict, will eventually seek recovery, but through Al-Anon and my ability to detach with love, I know that his recovery will never be my choice, but his. Because of this, through my own recovery, I have learned to focus on me, change me and be the best me that I can be. After all, I am the only one I have any control over. In the process, I am also learning to be a better mom not only to my addict but also to the rest of my children and I am forging a new and better relationship with my addicted son.
Detachment. It was a gift given to me at a time when I was dark and desolate, body, mind and soul. Detachment gave me new life and allowed me to change the one thing I really could.....ME!
I grew up in a world, where the only detachment came from my father. He and my mother were divorced and his whole life had been detachment, as getting too close or too invested in anyone, including his family was foreign to him. You could say, it was a long standing family tradition for his side of the family. My mother on the other hand was a typical mother of her generation with the added weight of being a single mom and carrying the burden of all things physical, emotional and spiritual for us kids. She clung to us and our unconditional love and we to her. She was our everything and we were hers and she protected us from...well....everything! Yes, I learned enabling from the best.
Growing up, as was typical of most families in our generation, you didn't talk politics, religion or anything having to do with the family outside the family. You put up a good front in public at all costs and this meant parents "fixing" any mistakes or mishaps before the story got out in the community. I grew up thinking that my mom was the Superman of our family and that no matter what happened, she would make it okay. Having this example, I literally believed that it was a mom's duty to "fix" everything and to "protect" my kids at all costs....it didn't matter what they did.
Now bring on this new generation. The generation of my kids is much different than the generation I grew up in. In my generation, the fixing parents had to do was maybe a traffic violation, underage drinking or an unplanned pregnancy. We were a pretty docile group and although things seemed pretty severe at the time, they were actually a walk in the park compared to this new generation.
Maybe it was the onset of video games and the technology of computers and cell phones that started it all. Our kids spent too much time tuned in to all the wrong things and were influenced more by the world than by their own families. Maybe it was the inundation of drugs, criminals and disrespect for women and humanity in general that was thrown at them in music, TV and movies. Or....maybe it was just the fact that we as parents were so naive that we thought our kids were above the influence of drugs and the drug culture and we ourselves had no idea what to look for or even what we were dealing with. Whatever the case though, when it hit my doorstep, I didn't recognize it, didn't believe it and I did what I do best.....I was mom. I denied, enabled, protected, fixed and enabled some more.
By the time denial was no longer an option, I was so far in over my head that I was literally questioning my own sanity. My kid had at some point gotten the jump on me and he was completely out of my league when it came to manipulation, control and gas lighting. Things I never could have imagined him doing including but not limited to being abusive verbally and physically to me and other women, going after family members and neighbors and stealing, seemed to come easy to him. I lied for him though, I protected him and made excuses for him. I was running around behind him constantly trying to "fix" the havoc and chaos he left in his path. In the process I was becoming more inundated in a world of drugs and violence, a world that I never wanted to be a part of. My son was going down a horrific path and I was tagging along as much a part of his destruction as he was. I was aiding and abetting every time I "fixed" his chaos.
Each day, along with the hell his addiction was bringing to my life, I was also finding that I was hating me more and more. I had turned into a liar. I was lying to everyone, family, friends and complete strangers all in the name of protecting my son. I was losing the battle with my son and addiction and I was losing control of my own life in the process. Many days I didn't have the strength or the will to even get out of bed, let alone fight the next battle or battles that would undoubtedly hit me that day. Looking back, I was becoming depressed. I was also starting to have to deal with anxiety, something that was new to my life. Panic attacks were now becoming just a part of my day. So was crying. I was not an emotional crier, but the frustration and anger were building up in me and my emotions were nothing but one raw nerve. It seemed like daily I was being pushed to the brink and hard as I tried, those damn tears would get the best of me.
On the outside looking in, my home must have looked like a dysfunctional hell and I must have looked like I was turning into this lying, delusional and withdrawn crazy woman. People knew something was going on. Heck, most probably knew that drugs were the problem before I did and my family and friends were just about ready to throw in the towel where I was concerned. After all, you can only do so much and say so much to someone who is so immersed in denial that they are drowning in a foot of water and refuse to stand up. Lucky for me, I eventually got a good look at myself, my life and the other family members that my sons addiction was affecting....and I did stand up.
When I heard that word detachment that day, I clung to it with all I had. I heard people in that meeting discuss how hard detachment could be and how long it took some to achieve it, but for me, in that moment, it was my key out of the hell I was living in. I do remember wondering if I was going to be able to carry through with this new found verb. After all, detachment meant that I could no longer voice an opinion and demand that it not only be heard but also carried out, that I could no longer manipulate, coerce and that I was no longer in control of his life. (Little did I know that I never really had been.) Still though, I knew at that moment that if it meant me no longer feeling crazy, used, disrespected, depressed, anxious...did I say crazy.....then I was going to give it my best effort.
My first attempts at detachment were small in retrospect but huge at the time. The first time I left him off at a gas station not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. The first time I refused a phone call from him or cut a text short because he was being hateful and demanding. In the moment they were enormous for me as a week ago I couldn't have done it. Then there was finding out he was living on the street. I struggled because what mother allows their kid to live on the street? Then there was the first time he got beat up on the street. I did immediately run to his aid, but on the way there I used my Al-Anon tools and questioned what the real story was. By the time I got there, my head was in a much different place and the event did not turn out as my son had hoped. I left him on the street.
As time went on though, detachment did become easier. The gift in detachment though, was that by staying out of his life, his business, his world of drugs and addiction, I started seeming him differently too. When you are on the inside of a situation, your vision is often obscured because of the turmoil. Mine definitely had been. But when you step outside and look in, often it clears your vision and you see things in a much different way. Instead of seeing my son as this addicted monster who I could hardly stand anymore, I was starting to see a good human being with a really bad problem. I also was realizing that because of my own actions of denial, fixing and enabling, I had been as much a part of his problem as his addiction had been a part of mine. How many times had I stepped in and "fixed" a problem for him that maybe was intended as a life lesson? Perhaps if he had faced that problem himself, that lesson would have been learned a lot sooner. Detachment was giving me clarity I had never before had.
Don't get me wrong. Detachment didn't come over night and it wasn't always an easy road for me. There were times when I struggled and I had to go to a meeting, talk to my sponsor, talk to my person outside of Al-Anon or all three before I could detach from the situation, but each time I had peace of mind following it and it always turned out to be the right thing for both me and my son.
When they say addiction is a disease that affects the whole family, they aren't lying. It does. Nothing can destroy a family faster than an addiction. That is why recovery is a family thing and not just for the addict. Sometimes, the addict never chooses recovery but if the family seeks recovery, the family situation will definitely improve.
I pray everyday that my son...my addict, will eventually seek recovery, but through Al-Anon and my ability to detach with love, I know that his recovery will never be my choice, but his. Because of this, through my own recovery, I have learned to focus on me, change me and be the best me that I can be. After all, I am the only one I have any control over. In the process, I am also learning to be a better mom not only to my addict but also to the rest of my children and I am forging a new and better relationship with my addicted son.
Detachment. It was a gift given to me at a time when I was dark and desolate, body, mind and soul. Detachment gave me new life and allowed me to change the one thing I really could.....ME!
Saturday, December 15, 2018
The Day that Al-Anon Saved Me
I first stepped into an Al-Anon meeting over 25 years ago. I went because someone I cared about and was close with was a recovering addict and alcoholic. He insisted that to truly know him, that I needed to have an understanding of his world. Since I had not known him as an active addict and I had no known addiction or alcoholism in my family, going to those meetings meant very little to me. I was not going for myself at the time, but rather because someone asked me to and I had no frame of reference for what these people in this group were going through or what these meetings meant to them. After a meeting or two, I felt I had done my due diligence and I was done.
That experience was my first real knowledge of Al-Anon and even then I didn't fully understand what it was all about. Not until my son became an addict did Al-Anon re-enter my life as even a thought. Little did I know that there would come a day that Al-Anon would literally save me.
In the early stages of my sons addiction, when I think everyone on the outside looking in knew there was a problem before I did, Al-Anon was suggested to me by a friend who was also a therapist. I think she saw much more than I did, especially when I was living in a world of enabling and denying. I was sure that first and foremost my son was not an addict and that whatever was going on with him, I could control, manipulate and fix. So you can imagine with my ego running unchecked, the thought of a group telling me how to handle my situation was not in the least bit appealing. From time to time though, when things were extremely tense and glimpses of reality were starting to come clear, Al-Anon did pop into my head and I did contemplate finding a meeting. That was as far as it went though.
When reality finally hit me in the head like a ton of brick and we were on the 3rd, 4th...8th relapse, I could no longer deny that I was in way over my head. I was fighting to keep someone clean who didn't want to be clean. As fast as I could drive him to a detox, sober living, etc, he was walking out the door blaming everyone but himself and I was buying every ounce of BS he spouted....to a point.
Everyone else in my world was now seeing clearly what I still denied. I was enabling my addict with lightening speed and making excuses for the inexcusable, while he was wreaking havoc and leaving a trail of chaos and destruction in his path. It had become a whirlwind of drama where he was instigating and demanding and refusing help all in the same breath. There was a two to three week period where he was the absolute focus of my life day and night. I spent my days running him from place to place looking for sober living, making counseling appointments and spending money on him replacing clothes and personal item he had either traded for drugs or gotten stolen. The only "right" thing I did in this period of time was not let him back in my home. Had I not had some not so gentle pressure from other family members, this might not have been the case. However even at night I worried about where he was, what he was doing and if I was going to hear from him the next day....or ever again. On the rare nights when I was able to drift off, like clock work he would call or message me with some new crisis or drama of his own creation which demanded my immediate attention. It was never ending and my health both mentally and physically was starting to crumble.
The day finally came when I realized that I could no longer continue being this boys ATM, his personal chauffeur and his supreme enabler. I could not save him but I had to try and save myself. The realization that I was being used and nothing less and that he had no desire to get clean was finally brought squarely home, so that day I dropped him off, went home and went to sleep.
The next day I realized that I really had no control over any of this and that if I didn't do something quick, his addiction was going to kill me. That day I looked up our local Al-Anon chapter and I called the number. There was no answer and I was devastated, but I left my name and number and hung up. I don't know whether I really wanted that call back or not, because when the number came up on my phone as an incoming call, I almost didn't answer. Thank God I did.
On the other end of that line was the voice of an angel. She told me there was hope. She wasn't talking about my addict, she was talking about me. During our conversation, I cried and told my sad and long suffering story about my addict and our history. She listened without saying anything. When I was done, she told me that the first thing I needed to do was come to a meeting. Unfortunately, in my small town they only had meetings one night a week and this meeting was days away. She told me though, that there were other meetings in other towns that weren't too far away and that I should check them out. Her voice was kind, strong and knowing as she shared with me that her own personal situation was not unlike my own and she was surviving. When I got off the phone, I immediately found the next available meeting closest to me. God does have mysterious ways. It just so happened that the next meeting was the following day.....at the place where I had gone to my first meeting all those years ago. It had to be a sign that I needed to do this.
That night, I tried to remember what it was like to go to an Al-Anon meeting. I remembered very little. Then I started thinking about me, my addict and this meeting. Hell Yes I was going to this meeting! I had put up with years of verbal and now physical abuse. No longer was I going to deal with the horrible names, the destruction in my home and the manipulation that he handed out as easily as he breathed. I could only imagine what all of those people would think when I told them of the things he had said to me and how much he had put me through. Always before I had gone out of my way to protect his image even to the point of lying, but no longer. I didn't care what anyone thought of him. I felt like a prisoner that was about to get their day in court and boy was everyone going to get an earful.
The next day I drove to the Al-Anon meeting. My stomach did flips all the way as my emotions were caught between my ego stinging from not being able to handle this myself and being prepared to rawly lay out my addicts story to a bunch of complete strangers. Then it occurred to me, what if they thought his addiction was my fault? What if they told me to my face that I was responsible for his issues? I was nearly sick before I finally pulled up. It had been a bit of a drive to get there, so I wasn't about to not go in. Maybe on second thought, I would just sit there and not say a word. Just because I came today didn't mean I had to come back. All these thoughts. All these emotions. It took everything I had to walk through those doors but something told me that I was out of options and if I didn't, I really might not survive.
As I walked in and sat down, I was greeted warmly. Obviously they knew I was new face. Those present asked me my name (first name only), ask me if I was new to Al-Anon and told me to sit wherever I liked. I sat down and felt strangely at ease. People walked in and by appearance seemed to come from every walk of life. The room filled quickly and soon the meeting was underway. As the leader began the meeting, it was pointed out in the introduction that Al-Anon was not about our addicts or alcoholics. It was about us. I'm not sure that sunk in that day. It took me a meeting or two before I got the full brunt of that statement.
The meeting was set up with a topic (detachment was that weeks topic)and then we went around the room discussing that topic as it pertained to us. The people before me talked about detaching as if it was a natural part of life. There were parents, siblings, children and friends and extended family of alcoholics and addicts sitting around the table. Some of their addicts were practicing and others weren't. Some lived with their alcoholics and some didn't. Whatever the case though, they talked of detachment as if it were the easiest thing in life. Phrases like, "What she does is none of my business," and "He has the right to make bad decisions, even if that is drinking and using," literally floored me. Then it was my turn.
Detachment didn't fit in with the story I was planning on telling, so I tried to get honest. I simply started by saying, "I have no idea how to detach." It was probably the most honest and clear thing I had said in a very long time. I did end up telling my story, but from a much different vantage point, because as I told it, I realized that I had some blame in this story. It wasn't all my addict, I had responsibility for how some of this had played out. Listening to their stories had made me realize in that one pivotal moment that I was not the victim that I had visualized myself being. I also wasn't the all wise and all knowing one either who could step in and control and fix this thing. In that moment I knew that I was the mom of an addict, who didn't have a clue about how to handle myself, my life or my addict and that here and now......I was in the place that I belonged.
After that meeting, I walked out with a new word.....detachment. I knew that to move forward that detachment would become a working verb in my life and it would possibly become my saving grace. I would have to pry myself out of my sons life and relearn motherhood from the place of addiction. My life was truly changed that day. In one hour I had found some peace, a glimmer of hope in the fact that I could see my dire situation with fresh eyes and a better perspective. It also occurred to me, that not unlike my addict, in order for him to get clean and stay that way, he has to want it and be willing to do whatever it takes to get that way. It was the same for me. If I wanted to be healthy emotionally and physically, even in the midst of addiction, I had to be willing to do whatever it takes to get that way too. Before that day I had begged for a miracle. That day it was given to me.
Since then, I have only grown in my own self awareness as to what I can and cannot do where addiction is concerned. Through Al-Anon I have learned that I am never alone in this battle but that I am completely powerless over addiction and my addicts choices. The only thing I truly have control over is myself and my own actions and attitudes. By going to meetings and reading my Al-Anon books, I have gained tools to regain my sanity that was almost destroyed in the insane world of addiction and although my son still struggles with addiction, I am able to see him as more than just an addict all the while maintaining loving detachment and healthy boundaries for both of us.
In one fell swoop that day, my ego and my illusions about myself and my situation were brought down and replaced with a realistic overview and I have never looked back. I attend several meetings throughout the week and I do my readings daily. I remind myself that I can only do so much and I have learned to give what I can't do over to my Higher Power (God). I have become much closer to my faith throughout all of this and my mental and physical health are much improved.
Now don't get me wrong. I won't say that every day is easy and that life is a dream. Far from it. But I have learned how to handle the tough times in much healthier ways and while I may vacation in the negative from time to time, I don't allow myself to move in. My life is much happier, much more peaceful and much more serene and I call that a win.
If you have an addict/alcoholic in your life and you feel like you are at the end of your rope, I encourage you to check out Al-Anon or NarAnon in your area. Like they say at the end of every meeting....."It works if you work it....and you're worth it!"
Until next time..........
That experience was my first real knowledge of Al-Anon and even then I didn't fully understand what it was all about. Not until my son became an addict did Al-Anon re-enter my life as even a thought. Little did I know that there would come a day that Al-Anon would literally save me.
In the early stages of my sons addiction, when I think everyone on the outside looking in knew there was a problem before I did, Al-Anon was suggested to me by a friend who was also a therapist. I think she saw much more than I did, especially when I was living in a world of enabling and denying. I was sure that first and foremost my son was not an addict and that whatever was going on with him, I could control, manipulate and fix. So you can imagine with my ego running unchecked, the thought of a group telling me how to handle my situation was not in the least bit appealing. From time to time though, when things were extremely tense and glimpses of reality were starting to come clear, Al-Anon did pop into my head and I did contemplate finding a meeting. That was as far as it went though.
When reality finally hit me in the head like a ton of brick and we were on the 3rd, 4th...8th relapse, I could no longer deny that I was in way over my head. I was fighting to keep someone clean who didn't want to be clean. As fast as I could drive him to a detox, sober living, etc, he was walking out the door blaming everyone but himself and I was buying every ounce of BS he spouted....to a point.
Everyone else in my world was now seeing clearly what I still denied. I was enabling my addict with lightening speed and making excuses for the inexcusable, while he was wreaking havoc and leaving a trail of chaos and destruction in his path. It had become a whirlwind of drama where he was instigating and demanding and refusing help all in the same breath. There was a two to three week period where he was the absolute focus of my life day and night. I spent my days running him from place to place looking for sober living, making counseling appointments and spending money on him replacing clothes and personal item he had either traded for drugs or gotten stolen. The only "right" thing I did in this period of time was not let him back in my home. Had I not had some not so gentle pressure from other family members, this might not have been the case. However even at night I worried about where he was, what he was doing and if I was going to hear from him the next day....or ever again. On the rare nights when I was able to drift off, like clock work he would call or message me with some new crisis or drama of his own creation which demanded my immediate attention. It was never ending and my health both mentally and physically was starting to crumble.
The day finally came when I realized that I could no longer continue being this boys ATM, his personal chauffeur and his supreme enabler. I could not save him but I had to try and save myself. The realization that I was being used and nothing less and that he had no desire to get clean was finally brought squarely home, so that day I dropped him off, went home and went to sleep.
The next day I realized that I really had no control over any of this and that if I didn't do something quick, his addiction was going to kill me. That day I looked up our local Al-Anon chapter and I called the number. There was no answer and I was devastated, but I left my name and number and hung up. I don't know whether I really wanted that call back or not, because when the number came up on my phone as an incoming call, I almost didn't answer. Thank God I did.
On the other end of that line was the voice of an angel. She told me there was hope. She wasn't talking about my addict, she was talking about me. During our conversation, I cried and told my sad and long suffering story about my addict and our history. She listened without saying anything. When I was done, she told me that the first thing I needed to do was come to a meeting. Unfortunately, in my small town they only had meetings one night a week and this meeting was days away. She told me though, that there were other meetings in other towns that weren't too far away and that I should check them out. Her voice was kind, strong and knowing as she shared with me that her own personal situation was not unlike my own and she was surviving. When I got off the phone, I immediately found the next available meeting closest to me. God does have mysterious ways. It just so happened that the next meeting was the following day.....at the place where I had gone to my first meeting all those years ago. It had to be a sign that I needed to do this.
That night, I tried to remember what it was like to go to an Al-Anon meeting. I remembered very little. Then I started thinking about me, my addict and this meeting. Hell Yes I was going to this meeting! I had put up with years of verbal and now physical abuse. No longer was I going to deal with the horrible names, the destruction in my home and the manipulation that he handed out as easily as he breathed. I could only imagine what all of those people would think when I told them of the things he had said to me and how much he had put me through. Always before I had gone out of my way to protect his image even to the point of lying, but no longer. I didn't care what anyone thought of him. I felt like a prisoner that was about to get their day in court and boy was everyone going to get an earful.
The next day I drove to the Al-Anon meeting. My stomach did flips all the way as my emotions were caught between my ego stinging from not being able to handle this myself and being prepared to rawly lay out my addicts story to a bunch of complete strangers. Then it occurred to me, what if they thought his addiction was my fault? What if they told me to my face that I was responsible for his issues? I was nearly sick before I finally pulled up. It had been a bit of a drive to get there, so I wasn't about to not go in. Maybe on second thought, I would just sit there and not say a word. Just because I came today didn't mean I had to come back. All these thoughts. All these emotions. It took everything I had to walk through those doors but something told me that I was out of options and if I didn't, I really might not survive.
As I walked in and sat down, I was greeted warmly. Obviously they knew I was new face. Those present asked me my name (first name only), ask me if I was new to Al-Anon and told me to sit wherever I liked. I sat down and felt strangely at ease. People walked in and by appearance seemed to come from every walk of life. The room filled quickly and soon the meeting was underway. As the leader began the meeting, it was pointed out in the introduction that Al-Anon was not about our addicts or alcoholics. It was about us. I'm not sure that sunk in that day. It took me a meeting or two before I got the full brunt of that statement.
The meeting was set up with a topic (detachment was that weeks topic)and then we went around the room discussing that topic as it pertained to us. The people before me talked about detaching as if it was a natural part of life. There were parents, siblings, children and friends and extended family of alcoholics and addicts sitting around the table. Some of their addicts were practicing and others weren't. Some lived with their alcoholics and some didn't. Whatever the case though, they talked of detachment as if it were the easiest thing in life. Phrases like, "What she does is none of my business," and "He has the right to make bad decisions, even if that is drinking and using," literally floored me. Then it was my turn.
Detachment didn't fit in with the story I was planning on telling, so I tried to get honest. I simply started by saying, "I have no idea how to detach." It was probably the most honest and clear thing I had said in a very long time. I did end up telling my story, but from a much different vantage point, because as I told it, I realized that I had some blame in this story. It wasn't all my addict, I had responsibility for how some of this had played out. Listening to their stories had made me realize in that one pivotal moment that I was not the victim that I had visualized myself being. I also wasn't the all wise and all knowing one either who could step in and control and fix this thing. In that moment I knew that I was the mom of an addict, who didn't have a clue about how to handle myself, my life or my addict and that here and now......I was in the place that I belonged.
After that meeting, I walked out with a new word.....detachment. I knew that to move forward that detachment would become a working verb in my life and it would possibly become my saving grace. I would have to pry myself out of my sons life and relearn motherhood from the place of addiction. My life was truly changed that day. In one hour I had found some peace, a glimmer of hope in the fact that I could see my dire situation with fresh eyes and a better perspective. It also occurred to me, that not unlike my addict, in order for him to get clean and stay that way, he has to want it and be willing to do whatever it takes to get that way. It was the same for me. If I wanted to be healthy emotionally and physically, even in the midst of addiction, I had to be willing to do whatever it takes to get that way too. Before that day I had begged for a miracle. That day it was given to me.
Since then, I have only grown in my own self awareness as to what I can and cannot do where addiction is concerned. Through Al-Anon I have learned that I am never alone in this battle but that I am completely powerless over addiction and my addicts choices. The only thing I truly have control over is myself and my own actions and attitudes. By going to meetings and reading my Al-Anon books, I have gained tools to regain my sanity that was almost destroyed in the insane world of addiction and although my son still struggles with addiction, I am able to see him as more than just an addict all the while maintaining loving detachment and healthy boundaries for both of us.
In one fell swoop that day, my ego and my illusions about myself and my situation were brought down and replaced with a realistic overview and I have never looked back. I attend several meetings throughout the week and I do my readings daily. I remind myself that I can only do so much and I have learned to give what I can't do over to my Higher Power (God). I have become much closer to my faith throughout all of this and my mental and physical health are much improved.
Now don't get me wrong. I won't say that every day is easy and that life is a dream. Far from it. But I have learned how to handle the tough times in much healthier ways and while I may vacation in the negative from time to time, I don't allow myself to move in. My life is much happier, much more peaceful and much more serene and I call that a win.
If you have an addict/alcoholic in your life and you feel like you are at the end of your rope, I encourage you to check out Al-Anon or NarAnon in your area. Like they say at the end of every meeting....."It works if you work it....and you're worth it!"
Until next time..........
Friday, December 14, 2018
Living With an Addict
If you have never lived with an addict, I tell you now to get down on your knees and thank God. No...REALLY! Living with an addict is a life that I would wish on no person no matter how much I disliked them. It takes a toll on you mentally, physically and emotionally. It makes you question your sanity and everything you ever thought you knew about anything.
Not until I became the mother of an addict though, did I realize that there were people who lived like this, let alone survived it. Up until this time in my life, I had been a precise thinker. In my head, I always believed that people should act and behave in a certain way. Yes, looking back it seems a bit controlling but also not unusual. It was all about black and white with very few shades of grey. For the most part, people in my world did act with a sense of right and wrong, so my thinking wasn't too far out there. However, you throw an addict into the mix and the world turns upside down pretty quickly. What once was normal becomes torn to shreds by someone who sees nothing wrong with lying, stealing, hitting, screaming, knocking holes in the walls or destroying anything in his path. In a life where I once could have set a clock by the same ol' same ol', suddenly I never knew what I was walking in on or waking up to next.
One day, everything my son had ever been and everything I had ever taught him, seemed no longer to exist. The control I prided myself on having in my home was gone and it had been replaced by utter chaos. He had literally turned into a monster and I didn't know how to "fix it." He was so unpredictable as some days there were still glimpses of the funny, fun loving, sweet son I had raised, but more and more was emerging a vile, angry, aggressive, hateful and hate filled human being. You never knew which version of him you were going to get. The worst though was after awhile, he learned to manipulate and gas light like a pro. More and more he would take situations that I knew were one way and manipulate the situation to the point where I literally questioned my own sanity.
The problem in living with an addict is that they slowly lose all of their social skills which means they end up usually losing their jobs, their friends and even family members. They become the very worst versions of themselves and with an addiction such as meth, they also become paranoid, grandiose, impulsive, compulsive, careless, reckless and they deny and rationalize in the most amazingly manipulative ways. An example of some of these traits are: a meth addict is not the cleanest person. Their surroundings usually have much to be desired. If you tell them to clean up their room (something that would take you or I a half hour) you might go down in two hours and find them with a toothbrush cleaning the dirt off of a heating grate. Now mind you, that will be the cleanest grate you have ever seen, but that will be all that has been done in two hours and likely all that will get done even if given another two hours.
My addict had a brilliant mind before drugs and during drugs, he would come up with the most grandiose and ridiculous ideas of how he was going to make millions. One idea was that he was going to learn to blow glass and sell his works. The reality was that all he ever made were a bunch of meth pipes that when I found them I crushed them all. We were lucky he didn't burn the house down in the process as he had a great affinity for torches and fire at the time and was highly upset that I wouldn't let him use propane in the basement.
The next great idea was that he was going to take apart non-working tvs and sell the working parts on buy/sell sites. I came home one day to find my garage and basement full of 55"+ non-working broken down tv's all parted out everywhere. He was frantically taking them apart talking a mile a minute about all the money he was going to make. Needless to say, a month later I was loading up tv parts and taking them to a recycle place.
After I finally realized that he was an addict, I was in a bit of an abyss. I was a mom and mom's didn't just turn their back on their kids. I had to fix this and by damn I would! I had no idea how far out of my pay scale meth addiction was and worse I had no idea that every single minute of every single day, I was doing nothing but enabling him and making the situation worse. Still I forged ahead deluding myself and denying what was right in front of my face.
Then the stories began. He would tell tales of things he was doing, rationalize the worst of it and talk with pride about his exploits as an addict and a dealer. Yes, the truth is, any addict who uses long enough becomes a dealer. They also become criminals shop lifting, robbing and stealing from strangers, friends and family. They have to steal to use and they have to keep using to survive.....at least that is part of the lies meth tells them.
As a parent and a human being, I lost all sense of reality. I was living in this dark and terrifying world that my addict had created not only for himself but he had dragged me into it too. I feared daily for his life, for what would be destroyed next, what he would do next and I even began to fear for my own safety.
When things got to their worst, I finally was starting to realize that meth had become his best friend, his mother, his father, his love and his god. I had no control over him and I couldn't compete with meth. I was emotionally exhausted and whipped, physically suffering from lack of sleep and spiritually dark. I was no longer in control of anything including my own reactions. One day as he stood in front of me spitting on me and calling me every vile name he could and telling me that he used because of me, I lost it! A rage built up in me that I couldn't control and I hauled out and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength and anger I had. It was a terrible thing to do....not that he didn't deserve it, but that act put me in more danger than I had ever been in. It stopped the tyraid but opened a flood gate on his end of extreme aggression. Luckily another individual was there at the time and stopped my son from likely killing me. Instead my door took a savage beating. It was at this moment that I knew he had to go or something horrible would end up happening.
It just so happened that I went downstairs as he was outside "cooling off" and I found lines of meth out in the open and that was all I needed. I told him either he left or I turned him into the police. Yeah, more words I never thought would come out of my mouth. His friend persuaded him that his best bet was to leave and he did. It was his last time living under my roof for more than a night.
Looking back, I can't even remember how I survived it all. This was all before Al-Anon and before I had any tools to help me get through situations such as this. Sadly, it still took me awhile before I realized that I was never going to fix this. There were more ups and downs but mostly at a distance and I still had so much more to learn before I would get to the place where I had to reach out for help. I honestly believe that the day I found Al-Anon was the day that saved my life.
Knowing now what I didn't know then, I can safely say that a situation like that is not likely ever to happen again because I know better how to handle myself. I have also learned that beyond the shadow of a doubt that although I did enable my son, I am not the reason he is an addict. His addiction is his choice and his decision and getting clean will also be his choice and his decision.
I guess I would like to end this by saying that addiction happens in the best of homes and the worst of homes. It happens where families are well off and where they have nothing. It is a human and willing choice first and disease after that. As I said before, if you or your family has not been touched by addiction, then thank God above, because for those of us who have, it is nightmare that we have no control over. If we do it "right" we turn our addict out into the cold, both figuratively and literally and we leave them to their own devices in a world we know nothing of. We fear every phone call and every ring of the doorbell knowing that this time could be the time we hear our addict is in jail, the hospital or worse. Please don't judge us too harshly if we isolate a bit, seem to be into praying a lot more and use a lot of phrases like "Let go and let God" and "One day at a time" and if we tell you we can't do something because we have to go to a meeting, please understand that we really have to go. Just know that we are trying our best to survive in a world we didn't create with a disease we never wanted. The bottom line.....I have no control over my addict or his choices.....but I can save myself.
Until next time.......
Not until I became the mother of an addict though, did I realize that there were people who lived like this, let alone survived it. Up until this time in my life, I had been a precise thinker. In my head, I always believed that people should act and behave in a certain way. Yes, looking back it seems a bit controlling but also not unusual. It was all about black and white with very few shades of grey. For the most part, people in my world did act with a sense of right and wrong, so my thinking wasn't too far out there. However, you throw an addict into the mix and the world turns upside down pretty quickly. What once was normal becomes torn to shreds by someone who sees nothing wrong with lying, stealing, hitting, screaming, knocking holes in the walls or destroying anything in his path. In a life where I once could have set a clock by the same ol' same ol', suddenly I never knew what I was walking in on or waking up to next.
One day, everything my son had ever been and everything I had ever taught him, seemed no longer to exist. The control I prided myself on having in my home was gone and it had been replaced by utter chaos. He had literally turned into a monster and I didn't know how to "fix it." He was so unpredictable as some days there were still glimpses of the funny, fun loving, sweet son I had raised, but more and more was emerging a vile, angry, aggressive, hateful and hate filled human being. You never knew which version of him you were going to get. The worst though was after awhile, he learned to manipulate and gas light like a pro. More and more he would take situations that I knew were one way and manipulate the situation to the point where I literally questioned my own sanity.
The problem in living with an addict is that they slowly lose all of their social skills which means they end up usually losing their jobs, their friends and even family members. They become the very worst versions of themselves and with an addiction such as meth, they also become paranoid, grandiose, impulsive, compulsive, careless, reckless and they deny and rationalize in the most amazingly manipulative ways. An example of some of these traits are: a meth addict is not the cleanest person. Their surroundings usually have much to be desired. If you tell them to clean up their room (something that would take you or I a half hour) you might go down in two hours and find them with a toothbrush cleaning the dirt off of a heating grate. Now mind you, that will be the cleanest grate you have ever seen, but that will be all that has been done in two hours and likely all that will get done even if given another two hours.
My addict had a brilliant mind before drugs and during drugs, he would come up with the most grandiose and ridiculous ideas of how he was going to make millions. One idea was that he was going to learn to blow glass and sell his works. The reality was that all he ever made were a bunch of meth pipes that when I found them I crushed them all. We were lucky he didn't burn the house down in the process as he had a great affinity for torches and fire at the time and was highly upset that I wouldn't let him use propane in the basement.
The next great idea was that he was going to take apart non-working tvs and sell the working parts on buy/sell sites. I came home one day to find my garage and basement full of 55"+ non-working broken down tv's all parted out everywhere. He was frantically taking them apart talking a mile a minute about all the money he was going to make. Needless to say, a month later I was loading up tv parts and taking them to a recycle place.
After I finally realized that he was an addict, I was in a bit of an abyss. I was a mom and mom's didn't just turn their back on their kids. I had to fix this and by damn I would! I had no idea how far out of my pay scale meth addiction was and worse I had no idea that every single minute of every single day, I was doing nothing but enabling him and making the situation worse. Still I forged ahead deluding myself and denying what was right in front of my face.
Then the stories began. He would tell tales of things he was doing, rationalize the worst of it and talk with pride about his exploits as an addict and a dealer. Yes, the truth is, any addict who uses long enough becomes a dealer. They also become criminals shop lifting, robbing and stealing from strangers, friends and family. They have to steal to use and they have to keep using to survive.....at least that is part of the lies meth tells them.
As a parent and a human being, I lost all sense of reality. I was living in this dark and terrifying world that my addict had created not only for himself but he had dragged me into it too. I feared daily for his life, for what would be destroyed next, what he would do next and I even began to fear for my own safety.
When things got to their worst, I finally was starting to realize that meth had become his best friend, his mother, his father, his love and his god. I had no control over him and I couldn't compete with meth. I was emotionally exhausted and whipped, physically suffering from lack of sleep and spiritually dark. I was no longer in control of anything including my own reactions. One day as he stood in front of me spitting on me and calling me every vile name he could and telling me that he used because of me, I lost it! A rage built up in me that I couldn't control and I hauled out and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength and anger I had. It was a terrible thing to do....not that he didn't deserve it, but that act put me in more danger than I had ever been in. It stopped the tyraid but opened a flood gate on his end of extreme aggression. Luckily another individual was there at the time and stopped my son from likely killing me. Instead my door took a savage beating. It was at this moment that I knew he had to go or something horrible would end up happening.
It just so happened that I went downstairs as he was outside "cooling off" and I found lines of meth out in the open and that was all I needed. I told him either he left or I turned him into the police. Yeah, more words I never thought would come out of my mouth. His friend persuaded him that his best bet was to leave and he did. It was his last time living under my roof for more than a night.
Looking back, I can't even remember how I survived it all. This was all before Al-Anon and before I had any tools to help me get through situations such as this. Sadly, it still took me awhile before I realized that I was never going to fix this. There were more ups and downs but mostly at a distance and I still had so much more to learn before I would get to the place where I had to reach out for help. I honestly believe that the day I found Al-Anon was the day that saved my life.
Knowing now what I didn't know then, I can safely say that a situation like that is not likely ever to happen again because I know better how to handle myself. I have also learned that beyond the shadow of a doubt that although I did enable my son, I am not the reason he is an addict. His addiction is his choice and his decision and getting clean will also be his choice and his decision.
I guess I would like to end this by saying that addiction happens in the best of homes and the worst of homes. It happens where families are well off and where they have nothing. It is a human and willing choice first and disease after that. As I said before, if you or your family has not been touched by addiction, then thank God above, because for those of us who have, it is nightmare that we have no control over. If we do it "right" we turn our addict out into the cold, both figuratively and literally and we leave them to their own devices in a world we know nothing of. We fear every phone call and every ring of the doorbell knowing that this time could be the time we hear our addict is in jail, the hospital or worse. Please don't judge us too harshly if we isolate a bit, seem to be into praying a lot more and use a lot of phrases like "Let go and let God" and "One day at a time" and if we tell you we can't do something because we have to go to a meeting, please understand that we really have to go. Just know that we are trying our best to survive in a world we didn't create with a disease we never wanted. The bottom line.....I have no control over my addict or his choices.....but I can save myself.
Until next time.......
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