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.
My paternal family is full of alcoholics. My dad was a "dry drunk", which is a term I heard tossed about when I was young but I didn't fully appreciate the implications. My first serious adult relationship was with an alcoholic. A decade later, as I stand ready to face another holiday alone, he is the one I miss. We were a dysfunctional mess, but I had something with him that I have not had with anyone since- confidence and certainty that I loved him and he loved me. Even after I decided I wanted out, it took me two years to end that relationship. I went back and forth, bargaining with myself. Perhaps the pains were just the price to pay for the joys, I told myself.
Its funny how memory whitewashes everything. I know he isolated me and turned me away from my friends and family, but that isn't what I recall when I think of him. Instead, I remember the evenings we spent on the back patio, where I would draw unnecessarily elaborate murals with chalk while he fiddled with new melodies on his guitar. I remember laughing fits over card games and staying up late playing Scrabble. I know most of those late nights ended with him too drunk to walk. I remember loving him madly, although I know I spent too many nights resentfully performing on top of him, knowing he would be too drunk to finish but going through the motions just to placate him until he fell asleep.
I can't tell anyone I miss him. They just curl a lip and snark about how awful the whole thing was, and how glad they are for me that it's over. I can't tell them no one else ever surprised me with flowers waiting in my car for no reason. I can't explain why that time we went camping and spent the whole weekend both sick with a fever was still one of my favorite trips. I *loved* him. He loved me.
I've dated worse things than alcoholics (subjective opinion based on my own experience, but, yes, worse things). Today, I know, intellectually, that I made the right decision. My two children will not grow up in a household of turmoil and drama. I know that my being a single mother is better for them than the alternatives. Emotionally, though, I am deeply, desperately lonely. It weakens me. It makes it too easy to forget why I didn't stay.
I miss him. It doesn't mean I would go back. It just means the decision to leave someone you love is a difficult one.
zaipiaz welcome , I agree making the decision to leave someone you love is extremely difficult. It sounds as if you are still grieving and that is very human.
Living with the disease of alcoholism causes many of us to develop negative coping tools to survive. Alanon is the recovery program for family members . Face to face meetings are held in most communities and the hot line number is in the white pages. It is here that I broke the terrible isolation caused by living with the disease. Living one day at a time, focused on myself helped me to restore my self esteem and self worth.
I love the guy I am with too. There's no shame in loving an alcoholic. Its why most of us are here. You're on the right place zaip.
__________________
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see? (Lewis Caroll)
My paternal family is full of alcoholics. My dad was a "dry drunk", which is a term I heard tossed about when I was young but I didn't fully appreciate the implications. My first serious adult relationship was with an alcoholic. A decade later, as I stand ready to face another holiday alone, he is the one I miss. We were a dysfunctional mess, but I had something with him that I have not had with anyone since- confidence and certainty that I loved him and he loved me. Even after I decided I wanted out, it took me two years to end that relationship. I went back and forth, bargaining with myself. Perhaps the pains were just the price to pay for the joys, I told myself.
Its funny how memory whitewashes everything. I know he isolated me and turned me away from my friends and family, but that isn't what I recall when I think of him. Instead, I remember the evenings we spent on the back patio, where I would draw unnecessarily elaborate murals with chalk while he fiddled with new melodies on his guitar. I remember laughing fits over card games and staying up late playing Scrabble. I know most of those late nights ended with him too drunk to walk. I remember loving him madly, although I know I spent too many nights resentfully performing on top of him, knowing he would be too drunk to finish but going through the motions just to placate him until he fell asleep.
I can't tell anyone I miss him. They just curl a lip and snark about how awful the whole thing was, and how glad they are for me that it's over. I can't tell them no one else ever surprised me with flowers waiting in my car for no reason. I can't explain why that time we went camping and spent the whole weekend both sick with a fever was still one of my favorite trips. I *loved* him. He loved me.
I've dated worse things than alcoholics (subjective opinion based on my own experience, but, yes, worse things). Today, I know, intellectually, that I made the right decision. My two children will not grow up in a household of turmoil and drama. I know that my being a single mother is better for them than the alternatives. Emotionally, though, I am deeply, desperately lonely. It weakens me. It makes it too easy to forget why I didn't stay.
I miss him. It doesn't mean I would go back. It just means the decision to leave someone you love is a difficult one.
I feel just the same. Just because you miss someone doesn't mean they were good for you. Is cocaine good for you? Does a cocaine addict miss it?
And all the while, my ExA's friends and family are telling her that I never loved her, and I'm a jerk. Because I left her. She tore my family apart, manipulating some of them into supporting her and not their own flesh and blood. She's been in AA for over 2 months. And I want so badly to believe she will change, but so much damage has been done. The other night she weaseled her way into my building to talk, and I was stuck. I kept telling her about all the pain she's caused me, all the hurt. Her excuse was "But that was the alcohol! I'm clean now!" like that erases anything.
Living with the disease of alcoholism is extremely painful. Alanon face to face meetings, as well as the the alanon tools, helped me to let go of the anger, resentment self pity and fear that I had accumulated as the result of living for many years with the disease.
The tools also allowed me to examine my motives and discover" MY Part" in the insanity of our lives so that I could address them and develop new tools to live by. I needed to stop judging, critiquing and pointing fingers at others and keep the focus on myself, my thoughts , my motives and actions so as to uncover the defects that kept me stuck in my negative reactive blaming mode.
Welcome Zaipiaz! Glad to have you here with us. The Program saved my life and now gives me a new one. I hope you will give it a try. Grieving a loss of any kind takes time. There's actually 5 stages to the Grieve cycle. I too had to make the difficult decision to leave my wife. I still wish things were different, but they're not. So I accept the path God put me on and move forward. Acceptance doesn't mean approval or that I have to fully understand all the reasons.
Faith gives me Hope that someone will be put in my path to share my time with. In the interim, I work The Program to create a stronger and healthier me so when that time comes it has the foundation for a healthy relationship and not more of the same.
Thank you so much for sharing. The things you mentioned really resonated with me. I am madly in love with a A. We are still together. Neither of us have kids but I do want kids someday. I'm 31 now and getting close to the time when I should be really thinking about it and do I want to stay with someone who is not willing to face their illness. I think every day can I live without this person who I believe is the love of my life? I'm not sure yet if that is my illness talking or if it our connection. But I know if I keep coming here I will find the answer.
