Stories from the The Forum about the tools of Al-Anon

The pain of self-deception, the joy of self-discovery

The truth was in front of me one Saturday afternoon after years of living in the disease of alcoholism. Revealing my pain and fear was a simple way to admit my life was out of control. A friend’s daughter was visiting and she told me about Al-Anon. Prior to that day, I had no idea what Al-Anon was or what it could offer me.

For years, I’d seen a church marquee that listed Al-Anon. I also knew where a meeting was held that very evening. Now I believe my Higher Power had been preparing me for that afternoon.

The Al-Anon members welcomed me with warm smiling faces. I discovered hope that evening. Not only did I see and hear hope, but the members showed me enough peace and serenity that I knew I wanted what they had. I also heard, “Mind my own business,” which I began putting into practice.

Long ago, I’d replaced being honest about who I was with stories about what I wanted other people to believe about me. As I continued attending meetings, I found a home group where I felt comfortable enough to trust other people. The Al-Anon tables were where I began getting honest with myself and started taking off my mask.

Through taking those baby steps, I learned about feelings and admitted how the disease affected me. Soon the heavy burden began lifting from my shoulders and I, too, was looking at my life differently.

I truly believe that through working the Al-Anon Steps, having a supportive Sponsor, developing a closer relationship with my Higher Power, and getting involved in service, I was able to replace the mask with the real me. I’ve found happiness I never believed could exist.

Al-Anon is a program that has given me a life. I’ve discovered the real me—the one who is will.

By Nancy B., South Carolina
The Forum, February 2007

Step One: Turmoil and tranquility at the ocean’s edge—I am powerless

Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.

While I sat at the ocean’s edge, it was obvious that there was a Power greater than I. The sea was immense—waves rolling in and out without ceasing. Nothing I could do would stop the motion, change the waves significantly, or corral the vast amount of water that stretched to the horizon and beyond. I was absolutely powerless over this body of water.

I observed beachgoers over the course of a week. When the surf was rough and choppy, most people noted the advisories and stayed on shore. A few went in anyway where they were thrashed about. One was scraped and bloodied, another was caught in a riptide—a lifeguard had to rescue him.

When the water was calm, people of all ages relaxed in the water where the ocean gently massaged them. As the waves got a little bigger, people had fun bodysurfing or catching a wave on a surfboard.

The pleasure, the tranquility, came from accepting the ocean for what it was and responding to it accordingly. No amount of cajoling could whip up waves to surf on a calm day. No amount of screaming or whining could calm the roiling sea on a stormy day.

God used my week at the ocean to help me see that there is at least one vast thing over which I am totally powerless—over which I will never have control. Could I possibly be equally powerless over alcohol and my alcoholic loved ones as well?

Instead of spending my life trying to control the uncontrollable and always wishing the day brought something different, can’t I go with the flow today? I can relax, rejoice, and be recreated in the calm moments, and not allow myself to enter into the storms when they roll in.

In this way, I can admit my powerlessness over alcohol, yet keep control over my feelings and reactions. By letting go and trusting God, I can enjoy my life the same way I enjoy the beach—“One Day at a Time.”

By Barb R.
The Forum, January 2007

The pain of self-deception, the joy of self-discovery

When I first came to Alateen I was a complete control freak. I thought I could control anything and everything that went on around me, even the alcoholic. I wasted so much time trying to control his life that it made my life go down the drain as well. I never put myself first because I was scared it would lead to more fights if I didn’t give the alcoholic all of my attention like he wanted me to.

That’s where Step One and the slogan, “Live and Let Live,” came in. I realized I didn’t have the power to change him. I had to focus more on my life than on other people’s lives. I had to stop pleasing other people and please myself.

As a senior, I plan to go to college next year for nursing, where I’ll still be able to help save lives. Trying to change someone else is impossible. People have to want to change and the only person I can change is me.

By Tara M.
The Forum, July 2006

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