It’s no picnic being an alcoholic or addict — and it can be hell when you’re married to one. It’s also tough being the parent or child or brother or sister of someone in active addiction.
This week, I want to let them speak. Here are stories from family members of three recovering addicts.
Gina, 40, of the Vanderbilt/Belmont area – An ex-wife
The disease runs deep in my family and though my parents aren’t alcoholics, following their divorce when I was two, they both married one. Spouses treating their mates as children was the form of marriage modeled to me, and despite my best efforts, I found myself in the same.
I entered college, began my first alcoholic relationship and felt dead inside. So despite finishing a double major in seven semesters with honors and a bright future ahead, I obsessed about getting married and creating the “family” I’d always wanted.
Just before my 30th birthday, my world crumbled again when I realized I’d married an alcoholic. I called my mom, knees pressed against the hard wood floor of my East Nashville home. “Mom, I’ve done it. I’ve married an alcoholic.”
Her advice: Go to (12-step fellowship for family members). I have been here ever since.
Detachment with love can be a challenging concept so I think it’s helpful to remember that in recovery we seek progress, not perfection. In essence, detaching with love means: that I am responsible for myself, first and foremost.
In practice this means that I don’t change my needs to suit someone else’s; that I don’t take responsibility for another or rescue from consequences; and that I allow others to their feelings of anger, sadness or disappointment if I do not acquiesce to their needs or crises.
I was told by a recovering alcoholic that we “have to stop denying the alcoholic the privilege of experiencing the consequences of their behavior”; this statement single-handedly changed my life. And he followed by saying, “it’s not the people who told me how great I am who saved my life; it’s the ones who told me I’m full of shit.”
The fellowship I found in 12-step rooms provided a steady and reliable stream of comfort, encouragement and structure.
I needed to learn new ways of being in relationship with the alcoholic that brought me into the rooms; what I thought was helping, was in reality enabling him toward death. The steps, sponsorship and meetings provided tools for how to change my behavior and my thoughts.
Lucille, 53, of Antioch – A mom
I worked eight hours a day and I went to school at night, and when I got home, he was in bed. Whatever he was doing, he had a chance to hide it very well. We lived in Chicago then.
It took a while to figure it out. All of a sudden I started having to go to court for different things when he was 14, 15. It was always silly charges; they always tried to put him in a gang, or music was playing too loud. They never really caught him with anything.
The police would pick him up because he was hanging out with kids older than him.
The judge said, every time something happened, Philip would be involved. He told me, if you can get him out of here, you need to do that. So we moved to Nashville when he was 15 or 16.
I still didn’t believe it; from what I could see, he wasn’t doing anything.
The police caught him this time. They caught him with cocaine and marijuana.
It hurt me. I was really upset. I never used drugs so I didn’t know what to say or what to do or how to feel. I’d never done anything like that. I was kind of at a loss.
Prayer. I just prayed a lot. Prayer changes things. Spoke with the pastor.
I only got two children and my only son is in jail. It was really hard. I felt like if I got him out, he’d do the same thing again. He could’ve got hurt or killed.
I bonded him out and he got in a couple more times. I finally let him sit it jail. I figured the best love was tough love. That led him to stay in jail for a year. That led to drug court.
When he was in jail, I didn’t have to worry about where he was when I laid down at night. When I heard what was going on on the street, I didn’t have to grab my phone and see where he was.
I feel he has learned his lesson. All the bad stuff is out there, but I can tell he’s not gonna go back. He hasn’t gone back to the old friends; he has moved on.
Meghan, 18, of Bowling Green – A little sister
When I was little, I didn’t know much English because I came over here (and was adopted) from Guatemala. Chuck was around 14, maybe, and he knew a little Spanish. And because he could translate, I thought my new brother could walk on water.
He was the best guy every. He was the bomb. It was me and him.
As I got older and he got older, that’s when we kind of argued and didn’t get along. He would not be himself. I was 10, he was 18.
I didn’t realize he was using (drugs) until he came out and said “Hey, I’ve been using for so long.” I should’ve picked up on the signs. He would snap off at the most random things I’d do. He’d wake up late for Christmas every year. And he was really really tired. But he would not be happy at all.
I didn’t understand. I just thought he was grumpy, unhappy person all the time.
During rehab, he started apologizing for not being the older brother he should’ve been. I still didn’t know what was going on. My parents finally explained what was going on. OK, he has a serious problem, and that’s when I was proud of him for apologizing for not being the older brother he should’ve been.
At first, I was like, he’s gonna stop. He’ll just stop. But I learned it’s not that simple. The more and more he talked about it, I understood. I get it. He had to go through a process.
I had to forgive him because he caused a lot of pain to my parents. I had to forgive him for that.
After that, I saw he cared about me, mom and dad. He really is trying to care about us more. He’s going to have to trust us now. We’re all he has.
It’s been a whole lot better than it has. He listens. I listen. He lets me vent. I let him vent. I know I can go to him with anything.
It’s great. I love it. It’s great having my big brother back. I love it.
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