Alcoholism - A Killer Disease

My Saturday Al-Anon group was reminded again that alcoholism is a disease that kills. A member shared that her spouse had died. I don't know why we were shocked, but it so seldom happens because most of us have loved ones in recovery. But it could have happened in my life and it still could. I need to be grateful again for recovery, mine as well as others.

It's hard for me to understand that alcoholism is a disease. After all, it's treatment is mostly spiritual rather than with medications or chemotherapy. It is unlike cancer which a close family member is now battling. We don't expect her to get herself to all her doctor and chemo appointments while taking care of children and household chores. Instead, we are willing and able to assist in any way we can. We believe this will help her get better.

With the alcoholics, however, we have had to detach with love and not enable them by trying to fix them or the consequences of their drinking. In the past, this kind of help has only prolonged the disease, keeping them from hitting their bottoms and getting the real help they need. We have had to let go and let God and take care of ourselves, which is the best way to be prepared when the alcoholics ask for help.

We still need to be cautious that we only do for them what they can't do for themselves and what the God of our understanding asks of us. Often this is simply encouraging them in their recovery and spending more time alone while they go to meetings and take on service positions. One of the best ways I've dealt with this aspect is to do my own service work, including positions and sponsoring. This almost always works to get me out of self-pity and the blame game.

After all, I don't blame my loved one for having cancer. I just accept it and take care of myself so I am able to help when I am asked. In this way, dealing with the two diseases is the same. If I let myself go to pot, I'm no good to anybody. I practice "live and let live" so I don't push my opinions on anyone or hover unnecessarily. And sometimes I have to say "no" because I have made another commitment or simply need to have some fun.

My God doesn't expect me to do it all or do it all alone. I also have to ask for help. It's exhausting to deal with someone else's life-threatening disease. Right now, for example, I caught a virus and am still recovering from a secondary infection. I've had to let my housework go and say "yes" to activities that get me out in the sun and out of my head. I've had to take life one day at a time, never knowing from day to day how I will feel or what will be asked of me.

In this way, I know that God will give me the courage and strength I need to do his/her will just for today. I need not go into the future, worrying about someone dying. Neither need I go into the past, regretting my past behavior or thinking about all the woulda, coulda, shouldas. Right now, in this moment, all is well. I'm feeling better. My sick loved one is having a good day. And my spouse is sober. It is easy to have an attitude of gratitude.

It helps me to remember how fragile life is and how much our 12-step programs have helped us hang on to the gift of life. Help me, God, to never forget that alcoholism, like cancer, is a deadly disease.

Sometimes It's Okay Not to Feel

When I heard that my mother was in the hospital with serious side effects from taking too much of her narcotic pain medicine, it crossed my mind that she could die. She is, after all, almost 80 and has been in bad health for years. When her possible death did not bother me, I was a bit bothered by my lack of emotion. I simply thought, "Should she die, I would go to her funeral." Period.

Then I read in Hope for Today (March 19th) that we have sometimes already grieved the loss of someone long before they are actually gone. We have already shed our tears and gone through the appropriate stages of grief, which I believe are denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance. After years of trying to fix a relationship that was not to be, I realized I was already at the last stage of acceptance, thus the lack of feelings (or at least intense feelings).

I was more into thinking about Dad and how he would do as Mom's death would affect his life dramatically. This still didn't prompt in me the need to be by his side, for it would mean travel when that was the last thing I needed right now. My first obligation is always to myself, to take good care of me. Plus I have a sister right there should Dad/Mom need someone. And I have other family members close by me that I need to help in the coming month.

Fortunately, Mom recovered and is now home with a new regimen, and Dad is relieved. If I had gone into my prior mode of drama resulting in rescue, rather than calmly accepting what is and what could happen - without getting into all the what-ifs - I would have wasted energy that I do not currently have to deal with Mom/Dad, again. I've spent time on those relationships, even travelling to Europe once to rescue them. As such, I've made my amends. I've done what I can do and that is enough.

This may sound cold to some of my readers, but I assure you that it is simply the result of years of grieving over what I never had and never will have with my parents - healthy, functioning, nurturing relationships. Both my sponsor and a professional (who included my mother in my therapy for a time) told me that some people simply do not change. I had to move on to take care of myself and look to other relationships for my needs - first and foremost the one with my Greater Power.

With that comes love and forgiveness of myself as well as the same for others. Forgiveness, by the way, does not mean we forget. It means we let go of the resentments. And love isn't always a feeling, it is more a willingness to respect another's humanity - flaws and all - realizing that they, too, are children of God. I also rely on the God of my understanding to let me know when and if I should step up to the plate, and this time it was obvious that I belonged on the bench - simply watching the game and praying for those involved in the action.