Last night, before falling asleep, I was scrolling through Twitter and I came across a story that gave me pause. A woman had posted that she had spent the last forty-eight hours wondering if her addict was even still alive. Luckily, he was found unharmed. She posted a picture of herself crying, and she asked her followers this:
Can someone please tell me it’s going to be okay . . .
In a matter of just a few hours, over four hundred people wrote back to her, with kindness, love, deep empathy, and for the most part, the same message, just written in different words. The gist was this:
It’s going to be okay, but you can’t fix this for him. You have the power to save yourself, and no one else.
Many of us who love alcoholics/addicts have had to let this message really sink in. Many people who answered the woman’s question suggested Alanon. Alanon is a great organization. It is geared towards focusing on the loved ones of alcoholics/addicts, and most of us go to our first Alanon meeting hoping that we will get a written, step-by-step guidebook on how to “fix” our addicts. It’s shocking, and at first, somewhat deeply deflating to hear the truth: You can’t do anything to help someone in denial, or who really doesn’t want to change. You MUST take care of yourself. You must take all of the energy that you have been putting towards your addict, and you must refocus it on to yourself.
This is a short article that explains an addict’s thought process better than most I have ever read (and I have read a lot):
https://www.verywellmind.com/understanding-an-addict-21927#toc-experiencing-consequences
All of the tools in the world, i.e. therapists, ministers, self-help books, rehab, 12-step programs, yoga, family interventions, affirmations etc. won’t do a lick of good for the person who is not deeply invested in using these various tools in order to help themselves. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but sometimes alcoholics and addicts don’t want to be “helped.” And being overly invested in “fixing/helping/changing” someone else and their lives, is its own form of addiction called codependency.
When you wake up to the realization that someone you love is deeply entrenched in alcoholism or addiction, I liken it to realizing that you and your loved ones are on this scorched earth, burning island. You, in your newly awoken state, realize that you can no longer live in denial of the destruction and the damaging fires. You realize that there’s a lifeboat, and you jump on it and you desperately try to get your loved one to get on to that lifeboat with you. But, unfortunately, your addict may not want to get on to the lifeboat. They may try to pull you into the water, where you both will drown. They sometimes want and choose to stay on the burning island, and they are angry that you longer want to be there, pretending that all is well. It’s heartbreaking to get on the lifeboat by yourself, but it is the only choice available, that at the very least, saves one life. It is the only choice that leaves a glimmer of hope for anyone involved that there is a way off of the burning island. And as the example I read last night, with hundreds of responses in a matter of just a few hours, you are not alone, floating on your lifeboat. There are many, many of us, floating in these wavy waters with you, willing to give a helping hand, and full of understanding, from our knowing, pained hearts.
****Readers, I choose to keep the identities of the addicts in my life private. I assure you that everyone in my immediate family is healthy and well, at this time. Thank you for your love, understanding and concern.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I survived addiction. Not my own – my husband’s. Correction: my ex-husband’s. Our divorce was finalized just two weeks ago.
Addiction runs through his gene pool. Numerous members of his family have suffered from various addictions, including both of his parents. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize the pattern until I was decades into my relationships with them.
As noted in both your post and the article (thanks for that link) my alcoholic didn’t really want help. He did stop drinking, but only because I gave him an ultimatum: on New Year’s Eve 2019 I told him that he had one year to get his act together, get his drinking under control, and deal with the issues from his past that caused him to begin drinking in the first place. It took seven months and the death of his father for him to make the decision to stop drinking. God bless him, he’s managed to abstain for almost 3 years. I pray that he maintains the stamina to go the distance.
Unfortunately, stopping the drinking didn’t fix the problem. It eliminated the constant hangovers, which made life infinitely better for both of us, but it didn’t address the childhood issues that sparked the behavior. He played at going to therapy; he put on a good show of attending AA. He bought all the books and the trinkets; he would read a passage from the Big Book every morning. He would go to one meeting a week, even when the pandemic hit, and everything went to Zoom. But he lost interest after the initial rush wore off. He evolved into a dry drunk – continuing all the same behavior patterns except the drinking.
I began attending Al-Anon and therapy. The combination of these practices helped me understand that he was terrified of looking inside himself. He was afraid to confront the emotions that he never dealt with. I tried my best to be supportive and loving and to give him the space to begin working on himself. He chose not to do that.
I found myself on the burning island that you described. I saw the lifeboat heading toward me, and I told him to get prepared, it was on the way. He couldn’t see it and didn’t believe me when I said I was going to jump on it when it arrived. Last April the boat docked, and I was ready. I’d done the internal work, found the reserves I needed to propel me into the boat, and started loading up my stuff. I begged him to get in the boat with me, but he turned his back. Sadly, I had to leave him behind on the island. Our son stayed too, but I was able to send a second rescue boat for him, and he is now in a safe harbor.
The hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life was to watch that island grow smaller and smaller as the lifeboat sailed away. I wanted to jump out of the boat and swim through shark-infested waters to get back to the familiarity of that island. Ultimately, I realized that wasn’t in anyone’s best interest, so I stayed in the boat.
It wasn’t long before I began to experience a curious excitement about where the boat was taking me. I’m terrible with geography and directions, so I had no idea where I was going. I just fervently hoped that it was somewhere better than where I’d been.
It’s been 11 months since I sailed away from the burning island. I landed in a calm, quiet refuge. My tribe has rallied around me. I am alone with my thoughts and my ‘self’ most of the time, and I truly love it. I am experiencing success in my work, and I am so blessed to have found my calling. I have begun a very sincere and meaningful meditation practice. I spend time outdoors every day, which helps me stay grounded and balanced. I am obsessed with the interior decoration of my tiny place because it helps me define who I am NOW. I surround myself with things I love, people I love, and clients that I respect. Not a day goes by that I don’t express my gratitude to the universe for all the blessings that I’ve received.
I still look back at my time on the island with some longing. I wish that I didn’t have to make the decision to save myself. That’s not how I thought my life would go. My heart still bleeds for my ex, and I truly hope that he finds the strength to conquer his demons. I know he has it in him; he just doesn’t know it (yet).
My future is unfolding in this new space, and it is beautiful. I lived in stress and chaos for so long that I’d forgotten that life doesn’t have to be a series of traumas. Some days I actually find myself restless and anxious for a problem to solve! But now I am learning to turn that energy in a new direction; a positive, beneficial direction. My vision is no longer clouded by the smoke from the burning island. I wouldn’t say that my new life is perfect, but it is far healthier and happier than the old version. I am so grateful that I had the strength to face the truth, work my way through the emotions that confused and blocked me, and to become the person that I was always meant to be. And now other refugees from the island are connecting with me, and I am able to help guide them to safe harbors. It is gratifying to take all the pain and struggle and put it to good use helping others. That is both a blessing and a joy, and I welcome the abundance that comes with it.
Thanks for the opportunity to tell my story.
That was beautiful and poignant, Kelly. Thank you for baring your beautiful soul. You are so inspiring! <3