Displaying items by tag: parents of alcoholics

Our adult son was an alcoholic, and I was the perfect enabler. I thought I was helping by giving him money, food, and even doing his laundry—until one evening as I was returning his laundry. I saw him walking down the street, intoxicated. Suddenly I realized that I was not helping, but hindering the possibility of him getting help for his disease. All of the caretaking that I had done had been destructive.

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Three and a half years ago, I found myself in a high school guidance counselor’s office, crying about the latest crisis with my daughter. She had totaled my van on prom night, driving drunk. Through the grace of God, no one was killed or seriously injured, but it was my wakeup call. Through the grace of this gentle counselor, I was advised to go to Al‑Anon.

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I did not come to Al‑Anon willingly. I was, after all, too worldly, too well educated, and far too experienced to require help from anybody. My grief and despair for a son caught up in the disease of alcoholism and drug abuse persisted despite all my efforts to cure him or to have him cured. Such were the actions I believed a responsible parent was supposed to perform in our society. I expected him to stop. His conduct was contrary to those I believed to be the hallmarks of our “class.” Yet he persisted. 

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I had been in Al‑Anon for a good number of years when my alcoholic daughter disappeared into the streets of a major western city. For two years, I had no contact with her or anyone who knew her. I felt as though I was completely new to the program as my sense of powerlessness grew.

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Plenty of alarms had been going off in regard to my adult daughter’s drinking—but for years, I consistently hit the snooze button and denied her disease. After all, I’d been a therapist at a local women’s treatment center for 11 years; I knew a lot about addiction and alcoholism. I helped my clients work Step One to get them started in the program. But nothing could have prepared me for my own daughter’s alcoholic behavior and my reaction to it.

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I grew up in an alcoholic family, where the words “I love you” were never spoken. There were never any outward signs of affection, such as hugging. I loved my family deeply, but the love I knew was unhealthy: I took care of them and felt resentful afterwards for the emptiness I felt inside.

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I joined Al‑Anon because of my husband’s behavior when he was drinking—and he drank daily. My kids were little at the time. I heard people in meetings talk about their children’s addictions, and I thought it was bad enough dealing with a spouse. I could not imagine coping with one of my kids being addicted as well.

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Wednesday, 01 June 2011 13:28

I can’t change my son—only myself

Today is my birthday—and the only thing I want is to thank all of you for the blessings I have received from Al-Anon. All of you have shared and reached out to me in ways that have touched my heart. You helped me to believe that it is possible to endure the pain and accept that my son has a problem with drinking and using drugs.

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Everything is perfect in the universe—even your desire to improve it. I acquired this bit of wisdom from a fortune cookie, tucked it in my wallet, and carried it around for a long time. I enjoyed wearing my God suit. It fit perfectly and supported my misguided attempts to take control because of my husband’s alcoholism. I was sure I could fix him, manage damage, and prevent crises.

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