Courage to change

I think that I would like to make Monday be the day that I write about recovery.

For the past few weeks that I have been writing this blog, I have enjoyed finding photographs from my portfolio that could accompany the topic at hand. This time, it’s probably good that I don’t have any photos that are directly related to this subject because, though I lived it, I don’t always want to look at it. Having photographs of alcohol would mean that I had been up close to some, which I haven’t. Photos of alcohol never tell the whole picture. The shining bottles can’t possibly provide the viewer with a clear image of the destruction in its path.



Last night I watched one of those Hallmark Hall of Fame movies. Now usually I steer clear of them. I like their cards, not so much into the movies, and that’s because they’re usually sure to be those tearjerker movies with way too much melodrama and the requisite “feel good” ending. This one was different, and leads me into today’s recovery discussion.



It was called “When Love is not Enough: The Lois Wilson Story”. The sappy title would have had me changing the channel in a flash had I not heard the part about Lois Wilson. Lois Wilson was married to Bill Wilson, one of the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous. She began Al-Anon, the worldwide fellowship of support for families of alcoholics. You can read the book or rent the movie to get the whole story. I want to focus on just one line.



An average of no less than four people are pulled into the vortex of an alcoholic. I find it an interesting image, the vortex, a swirling, sucking, pulling force that claims those in its path, despite attempts to grab on to anything to keep from drowning. I can see how this would be an appropriate comparison to the life of an active alcoholic. My parents, Nola, my ex husband, my boyfriend at the time (now my husband), were all in danger of being drawn in and brought down by my own destructive influence. They were trying desperately to help me and were all living each day based on my actions and the drama I created for each of them. Even when I got sober, for quite a long time, they would ask each other “how is she?” Translate: has she been drinking? I felt paranoid for a long time. It seemed like everyone was just perched on the edge, waiting for the next time. Fortunately, there hasn’t been a “next time” for nearly 3 ½ years now. For me the last time was enough to teach me that I cannot drink, ever.



I vowed to repair the damage I had caused, and in many ways, I have. My relationship with my parents is loving and good. My daughter lives with me and is my biggest fan. She hardly remembers any of the drunken behavior. My ex-husband, well, that’s okay these days. He can no longer use my drinking against me. Continued sobriety has given me incredible gifts and one is the confidence to stand up for myself. It has also given me a life second to none, as they say. Happily married to another sober alcoholic, we hold meetings at home. Bill W. said that any time two alcoholics get together and talk about their experiences, a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous takes place. The same must be said for those now safely out of the vortex, the families and friends of alcoholics. The same discussions that used to feed my paranoia were important to their own recovery, and therefore would constitute a meeting of Al-Anon, wouldn’t they?



I’d love to hear from anyone who has experienced the benefits of talking to another person who has suffered from living in the vortex of an alcoholic.