It can be appalling, can't it? I remember occasions being so shocked, stunned and confused - it just defied belief. It did not seem real or possible.

In fact, when I had things like this happen to me, it was so unbelievable that I refused to admit the stark truth of it to myself. I couldn't conceptualize how it could be true. The reality that another person you love, who has claimed to love you before, can act a bit like a sociopath, was way too far out of my realm of possibility.

It was too confronting to look alcoholism in the face and admit the size and shape of its teeth. I couldn't accept my mother/other family members were truly like that sometimes, even sober. The behaviour and words can be so out of the ordinary, that it used to completely disrupt my reality. I'd try to reconcile this kind of behavior with past versions of them, and what I considered them to be like, and I just couldn't. I felt I had to choose which one of them I believed in: the brazen liar-manipulator or the other one?

I was so scrambled back then, that I just kind of didn't process what had been said. I remember the pain, and bewilderment. The whole-being sting. The kinds of experiences you describe got stuck in me and radiated through me for a long time as confusion, pain, the expectation for it to happen all the time with all people (normalized) and worst of all, the conviction that because it had happened to me, it must be my fault. There must be some truth in what they had said. I must deserve it. I then had to frantically search inside myself to find all the 'bad bits' they could see and would loudly tell me and others, so that I could fix those bad bits in the hopes that this kind of thing wouldn't happen again. So that I could earn the respect of the alcoholics and prevent them from betraying me so radically, so often.

The reality was so confronting that I hid from it. I turned it all back on to myself, I made it about me. What can I fix in me so they stop doing this, what can I do to prevent it?

I was afraid to admit these personality aspects that can be present with alcoholism, because I wasn't comfortable with thinking that my loved ones truly possessed these traits. It was all about judgment to me at the time, instead of compassionate neutrality. The great thing about the truth is that it lends itself to acceptance, but I didn't know that at the time. The ramifications of it, and the choices I would have to make if I fully admitted what my loved alcoholics are capable of, was too far of a jump for my personality and defense mechanisms back then.

So this part of alcoholism you're mentioning Helpangel, could roar in my face and throw me, emotionally and mentally, into oblivion, and in response I would transmute myself away from it, blame myself and get stuck. The disease I had and reality were like oil and water sometimes.

I guess it was kind of like a newborn kitten standing in front of a roaring bear intent on eating it, and the kitten not having the instinct to get the f outta there. The kitten chosing instead to rationalize within itself why the bear was roaring and slobbering and acting so aggressively, and the kitten trying to work out how to pacify the bear. The kitten's feelings being so hurt, she is paralysed on the spot. Little does the kitten know, what is driving the bear is ancient, primal, beyond reason, and far bigger than both the bear and the kitten.

So too with alcoholism. Alcoholism is cunning, baffling and powerful. It is not something I could ever have tamed - that was never my job.

I had a series of jolts like the one you've just had in my life where it was no longer possible for me not to see, and then accept, the truth. It hurt, I resisted, I took too long to allow myself to change, but I crumbled into reality in the end. I'm so glad. Now I consider myself on good terms with the alcoholics in my life, because from my end, I get it. And we are good.

I realized the other day that trash talk only hurt me when I was afraid on some level inside that it was true of me. When I had that button exposed that I was inherently mysteriously wrong & bad, people saying untrue things about me really really hurt and scared me. This is where HP fostering self love and self like and self awareness in me has been invaluable! Now people can say and think what they like about me and particularly the alcoholics in my life - I can recognise their trash talking for what it is. A symptom of their illness, nothing more, nothing less, nothing personal.

I grew up putting metaphorical blindfolds on myself to filter the truth of my alcoholic parents and entire family and entire world. That's a slippery slope! Thinking about it all now, it's a miracle I found my way out of all that. Alanon and HP ARE miracle workers!

If I could go back in time and whisper to myself, I'd say: Stay awake, sweetheart, stay awake to it...

 

 

Amazing that I would be reading this while acknowledging the same process in my life.  I just went thru a abusive delusional episode at my house in my life with my wife.  It was surely alcoholic like in operation and while I wasn't exactly completely caught off guard I was and still am flexing my response muscles and ready to use them.  She was not sane and abusive and I was ready to call the police to have her removed from the home.  I attempted a dialogue inside of the experiences that it never had worked with other alcoholics and addicts in my life and so I stepped out and around and chose silence as the better part of confrontation with anger. 

I can do Power and Control behavior and then to what end...I chose not to and went quiet with my HP...listening, listening, listening.   I was the one to choose to use the program and she went into a stoic funk...sad.  Strange the subject on how it came about.  She wanted to instruct me on starting my rider mower which she knows nothing about and was trying to do with her own false pride and then we were done. 

This isn't the first time she has used power and control tactics to dominate and then it is so random and without prior warning it scares me cause I'm not good with the rules of reaction...My experience has been with physical force so I needed to confront my HP and go to a meeting.    Wheeeeeew

I am of the mind that she goes back home to California and just leave Hawaii in the rear view mirror.  This is sick and I remembered when we met that she was in consolation with a psychologist for something or other and they parted before the treatment was done.

My picker is broken!!  My codependency practice  is still alive and working.    

HP I am listening steadily and closely for direction...I won't just react.    (((((hugs)))))  

Hi Helpangel,

I am no expert, but I do love sharing my experiences - it is healing and clarifying for me. Others here have a far better grasp of Alanon than I do.

So all I say here, know it is just what my path was. It is not instruction for you. I will just answer your questions honestly.

"What did you do with the revelations?"

They hit me like bombs. They shattered me. They came in quick succession, one after the other. But to be fair, I'd been in at least a 12 month cycle of experiences with family members that had probably been trying to teach me where I was going wrong, and I was too stubborn to see.
After one of them, I spent two weeks roaming my house like a phantom, doing absolutely nothing but grieving. I stopped my entire life so I could cry. This may have looked like a disaster from the outside but I was aware it was GOOD for me. I had not let myself cry or acknowledge my pain for years and here I was, finally crying, finally being real. I mourned, sobbed, threw private tantrums, I GOT HONEST WITH MYSELF. I totally indulged in the reality of my situation. I didn't have the option of sugar coating anything any more. My mind had no escape route any more. I couldn't pretend that my way of doing things, my way of perceiving life and the world, and what I kept allowing other people to do to me, was bullet proof. I threw my hands up and said, fine. I give up. This is too confusing, and I am powerless over all this.
I simply didn't have any "I'm the victim here" excuses left, you know? I couldn't deny that *I* must be doing or being things that kept me in this cycle. I was finally ready to see what I was doing to co-create all this. I couldn't deny that *I* wasn't working for me any more. I was not willing to accept this kind of stress and pain in my life any more, so I was in a space where my defenses were down and I was open to change.
In those two weeks I had shockwave after shockwave of revelation. I kind of began to wake up out of the slumber of denial and confusion. My psyche had been pushed to the brink and had to admit it might have gone wrong somewhere, haha.

I could feel HP with me, and I could feel that where I was, was fertile ground. I could feel the sacredness of the process, I could feel that it was divinely guided. So I knew to stick with it, to feel my feelings, and to listen. I was forced into the humility of not-knowing what the outcome would be, and I couldn't muster up the illusion of control any more either.

A lot of my beliefs were being challenged and scrutinized. I was required to let go of a lot of the 'good girl' conditioning and the conditioning I had as a result of growing up in an alcoholic home. So beliefs about helping family members, being forgiving, never giving up, being compassionate, putting up with abuse, fixing things, rescuing others, putting myself last - all these things that were skewed versions of the truth and translated to me effectively living like an idiotic doormat with no life or identity of her own. Those beliefs were initially hard to let go of because on paper they sound really good and kind and loving. I could not BELIEVE that my path would be teaching me to be less forgiving, less open, less understanding and less loving?????! Whatever false assumptions I'd made about myself and the world had to go.

I learned in those weeks to stop running from my pain, but to be with it. To accept it and love it. To stop judging myself for even having pain. I learned to stop repressing all I had repressed. I learned that really stark severe pain softens us, creates real compassion and wisdom in us, connects us to something holy and empowering. I learned that pain is worth feeling and actually has many gifts. I learned that I can withstand, and I can rise again. It was very, very transformative. I was dragged into it kicking and screaming, mind you. I only surrendered in this way because I was backed against a wall. I'd repeated the same pattern far too many times for it to stay in tact any more, so my entire identity needed a workaround. I was facing all my worst fears in those weeks.

I noticed during that period, all the ways I had given my power away and squandered my own life in pursuit of fixing my family. All the ways I had denied myself and starved myself of my own self.

A big thing I learned was to be kind to myself, to be curious instead of judgmental about myself and my feelings. I learned to be interested in me, and to stop being a perfectionist. I learned to honor my painful memories and feelings and I actively soothed myself instead of rejecting or abusing myself.

So it wasn't a lovely, happy process. It hurt. I was tormented. It was a psychic death and rebirth. It was a 'dark night of the soul'. It was the famed place where you're on your knees, and it's over. It was the crack where the light got in. But it was worth it. My growth continues now, every day. I am so blessed by this process and grateful for it. I'd do it again tomorrow if it would help as much as this last one did.

I prayed a lot during that time and I read really good, wise books.

And I should make it clear that while that two week period was an accelerated, amplified version of what had to happen for me, it did not pop up in isolation. It was part of a longer, ongoing, gradual and organic process of healing I'd been engaged in, whether I was consciously aware of it or not.


"Did you stay away from them?"

Yes. I stayed away.
I received the typical, predictable abuse, accusations and disbelief from them when I cut off contact, ie "What is wrong with you, I'll never understand why or how you can cut off from your own family, you are insane, you have a disorder, etc"

I believed them at the time, that something was wrong with me for staying away. But I knew I had to because I was going to break if I didn't. I also knew that I had nothing positive to contribute or experience around them at that time. I am glad that my instincts to get away were so strong that I followed them. Those instincts were right in the big picture for the highest good.

"Or accept them and turn a blind eye to their behavior?"

I will never, ever turn a blind eye to their behavior. Looking right at it all, myself included, with clear and open eyes, was the remedy for me. When I see it clearly, it changes. But I do accept them, because arguing with the reality is insane. Accepting and turning a blind eye are two very, very different things. Blind eyes should be eradicated. Blind eyes serve no one. Blind eyes postpone the inevitable. They're impractical.

I do not live with them. That is a big difference here between your circumstances and mine. I think the psychologist's advice to have some time apart is a great idea. If I was living with my loved alcoholics, I would have inadvertently slipped back into being enmeshed with them. And I needed to be just with myself so I could hear myself again.

Getting towards genuine serenity and acceptance is a process we mustn't rush or try to push ourselves through. We'll get there honestly by being honest with ourselves. We'll find that discovering the truth of ourselves is pleasantly surprising. We're wise and strong and clear, inside. Beneath the surface chaos, there's much calmness and clarity.

Do they get better if they know you are not affected by what they say?

My dad is a very aggressive, hostile, violent and abusive drunk person. I stood up to him once, many years ago, defending my sister, and he has never been anything but respectful and friendly to me ever since. But that is him and I, and that would not work for every alcoholic person. We are not close and rarely see each other. I don't put myself in the situation where I am going to be around him when he is getting hostile and abusive. I know who he is and don't expect or need him to be anything else. I admit who and what he is capable of, what his automatic defaults are, and I respond and act accordingly. I don't know what his views on me are, and it doesn't matter. I know that overall, he loves me to his capacity. What is real for me between us is an overriding abstract love. I am not under any obligation to spend time with him and he seems fine with that. He doesn't crave human relationships, he craves alcohol. If I spend time with him and he acts like the man I know him to be, I am responsible for putting myself there. Expecting him to be any different than who he is is like expecting a dog to quack like a duck, or expecting myself to be able to walk through a wall. Not ever going to happen. I will only cause pain and frustration to us both if I show up and expect him to be someone he is not, then attempt to punish him for it or attempt to educate him on how he should be. It is absolutely not my place to tell another person how they should be. It is not my job to know, either. This understanding frees me up to love him as he is, and I do. We have a good comraderie and laugh together and have fun on the odd occasion that we see each other. He is actively drinking himself to death with no intent to stop and I appreciate and admire his honesty in that. He's a grown man with the right to choose. I acknowledge the difficulty of living with a lifelong alcohol addiction and the maze it must be to exit. If he doesn't want to do that, I understand.

My mother has expressed that she appreciates my new understanding of her alcoholism and our relationship has improved dramatically. Like my father, I choose when to see her or not see her. I am driven by my own inner guidance there, and what sits right with me. If I think she is about to go into organ failure and it is important for my peace of mind that I visit her and get medical attention, I do. If seeing her is taking up time or energy or worry, I stop. I can do this because I know for sure that nothing I can do, be or say can influence her. My black and white all or nothing thinking is no longer an issue for me.

The alcoholics I love are embroiled in an inner world that is far too complex for me to ever begin to change for them, and I know I can't fairly judge it because I haven't lived it from their perspective. My parents don't know themselves why they do what they do. They are as hurt and mystified by it as we are. There for the grace of God go I. I've got my own stuff to clean up.

In all honesty, yes, my experience with them has changed. But that is because I have changed. They're not acting much differently. But I don't need them to, because I'm not all tied up with them any more. My life, my identity and my wellbeing is independent from theirs.


How do I decide whether it is enough, when r u really done?

I think you let it happen naturally. It's normal to want to push ahead and solve it asap. That's the stress hormones rushing through your body. You get out of your monkey mind head that goes a million miles a minute and is desperate to figure it out and find a solution. It's an organic, natural process. You learn to be honest with yourself. Huge amounts of kindness and understanding towards yourself are necessary. If we keep reading Alanon stuff we'll be right as rain. In time and with gentleness, we access the soft underbelly of ourselves, the vulnerable honest part we often hide in order to protect it. That part of us knows when enough is enough and will tell us. It knows if you want to stay or go. Admitting the truth to ourselves can go against all our conditioning. So when our inner truth sends its message that we're done, it is often met with opposition from our minds that think we have to stay for all sorts of reasons. That internal argument is what gently unravels until we are unified enough to know our inner truth. Go gently with yourself, be your own best friend. Make sure you don't have unfair or unrealistic expectations of yourself.

"When u are in this kinda fog it is so hard to see a way through."

Right. So true, brave lady. Another analogy: So when you are driving in a fog, you act sensibly. You put the lights on (wake up to the reality of yourself and your relationship) and you slow down. In a fog, the headlights can only show you a little bit ahead of you. That is all you have to work with. You have no choice, when you're driving in a fog, but to accept that you can only see a few feet in front of you. That simplifies things because you can literally only deal with what is right in front of you, with no idea of what is ahead on the road. The next right thing appears again and again, a few feet at a time, and you deal with that bit of the road then keep moving.
What else do you do when you're driving in a fog? You concentrate on your body and your immediate surrounds. You keep your eyes open and you stay alert. You breathe deeply and calm yourself. You stay present in the moment, you stay present with what is happening, you have your wits about you in a calm way. You acknowledge your fears and the potential threats on the road, but you keep your anxiety in check enough so that you can drive through the fog safely. In this manner, you make it out to the other side of the fog where vision is clear, or you make it home safe.
In a fog, you never speed. You don't drive recklessly in a hurry to get home and get it over with. You know not to make hasty split second decisions. If you panic and start making sudden moves, you could hit a deer or bang into a tree or another car. You take it easy in a fog, yeah? One inch at a time you drive through the fog. That's the only sane way to go.

We can't jump ahead when we're in a fog. But we can notice that we are safe inside a car, like we are safe within HP in real life, and if we just do the next right logical sensible thing, we will be more than fine. The only way out is through. "One day at a time", yes? We've literally only got this moment.

Sending support and warmth to you, Help Angel.

I have experienced very similar to what you describe. My AH did it at our doctors. Completely shocked me at the time.

(((Hugs))) - I've been there as well. It is the exact situations you describe that were game changers for me. The only solution I found was the program, and it provided the path to peace. In recovery is where I learned that what others think and say about me is not me or my business. In recovery is where I learned to stop taking it personally. In recovery is where I learned that alcoholism is a disease of the mind, heart, body and soul. In recovery I also learned that I could love someone deeply, yet greatly dislike them at the same time.

There is always hope and help in recovery, no matter how beaten down you feel today. You truly are not alone - sending positive thoughts and prayers to all.