alcoholism

I promised a friend that I would try to explain my issues with this subject. Almost like a taboo, I feel like alcoholism has followed me like the darkest of lurking shadows for as long as my mind can remember. Alcohol  has been a welcome guest and in fact personally invited itself into every home I have resided. It has broken down my front door and tiptoed silently through the back door. And as it stays, an unwelcome guest in my life, it leaves a trail of broken hearts, confused memories and despair to depths I never hope to experience again.
I hate the power of alcohol to destroy relationships, taint personalities and massacre families. Generation after generation. Like an unstoppable plague where no one is able to master control over it. I am incredibly blessed to not be addicted to alcohol so I can happily imbibe at will. It has no hold on me. And sometimes, I can feel the burn in the back of my throat and anticipate the comfort that on some level, I will be able to drift away from whatever is really bothering me at that second. I have never been out of control. I have always stopped after two. There is simply no appeal to me beyond that. However, while I am entwined in it's snare, I genuinely feel seduced by the power of joyfulness it brings and it's natural ability to remove my inhibitions. I dance and celebrate. I feel carefree. I close my eyes and I spin out of control and enjoy it's brief embrace over my judgement. I do what I would never think to do. I act foolishly. I giggle and embrace people freely. My cares and woes disappear. It feels almost like playing with fire for this rather naive woman. I view it as naughty but entrancing. Very seductive. Sex after a couple of drinks surely allows me to free myself from whatever holds me captive and it does feel good. Really good. 
Sounds so attractive and appealing doesn't it?  Perhaps to those who are insensitive to the person who is having their one man party. Because alcohol use by a solitary person is a act of true selfishness. It takes the user to another place. The user is free to escape the reality of what exists around them; all the while the sober individual gets to be the witness, punching bag, fool, brunt of the joke, sex object, rescuer, forgotten heart, well - I could go on endlessly. And this doesn't change whether you are a nasty drunk or a happy drunk. The sober individual just sits and takes it all in. And it can be very confusing. And hurtful. Especially when your heart and your love is involved. 
A sober caring soul - be it a spouse, a child or a friend, will attempt to intervene. They will come from love and affection. They will assist in any way to stop the activity. They will dump the alcohol down the drain. They will sit down and try to discuss the situation. They will convene with medical personnel. The will apologize endlessly for the conduct of their loved one. They will apologize inappropriately to the addict thinking the drinking their fault. They will feel ashamed and foolish for making a bad choice for their life or for simply being related to someone who can't get their act together. They will search for reasons to understand why their significant other wants to drink. They will source out educational materials. They will join Adult Children of Alcoholics, AlAnon or any other group to look for answers and support. They will consult clergy. They will try to get their loved one to admit they have a problem. They will try to solve the problem. They will get down on their knees and pray. They will beg God to help. They will take the car keys away and risk being harmed physically. They will take verbal and physical abuse from someone who says they love them. They will defend their family even though they realize on some level it is terribly broken. They will sit alone and cry night after night because of the loneliness. And then one day, they will throw their hands up in the air and simply give up. The alcohol can always triumph over the human spirit, if that spirit isn't motivated or strong enough to see the reality of the chaos they are causing through their need and desire to drink alcohol.
So now I will make a laundry list of how alcohol has affected my life - 
-  active alcoholics abandon you while you are in plain sight. They don't care about you. Period.
-  it irreparably damaged my relationship with my father. I worshiped and loved him completely and he was the most present parent I had, however he was never truly able to be there when I so desperately needed him. This paved the way for the abuse my mother was determined to act out on towards me. And I was almost killed. I am actually one of few survivors of M by P and have actually been studied. But that is a whole other issue. There was no one there to protect me but my drunken father. There was no advocate for me as a small child. The alcohol always came before me, my feelings and my very life.
-  I spent every day marking liquor bottles I could barely reach in my father's cabinet. I thought that if there was less alcohol then I might be safer. I was six years old and stood on a kitchen chair to reach the 26 oz bottles of Lamb's Navy Rum. I am simply lucky that I didn't drop a bottle. I can't imagine being beaten because of breaking one.
-  I saved up for an anniversary cake for my parents, walking to the store to buy it with my piggy bank money when I was 9 years old. I presented it after dinner - (yes, my parents were fighting) - my mother threw it at my father and he threw it back. They never acknowledged this simple gesture by a child that just wanted to be loved. Who just wanted her parents to love each other.
-  My father, when he drank, would escape in our 61' Dodge to his mother's house. I would sit on his knee and steer the wheel. My father was drunk. I was made to remember the directions there and back and never forgot them. I was three when this began.  We were never stopped by the police. My father eventually had blocks for the pedals.
-  When my father was drunk, he would say stupid hurtful things to me. Things he would NEVER say to me on any good day. I have been called a whore (I was a virgin for Christ's sake), a fucking bitch, a cunt, a goddamn nuisance, a child adopted for convenience, a bohunk (something he used to call my mother which means displaced person), told me I'd be returned (to God knows where), that he thought I was an idiot (smartest kid in my class), that he didn't want to listen to me because my feelings didn't matter, that he was glad I wasn't a boy or he'd slap me senseless, that if I kept crying he'd give me something to cry about, that he wished I was a boy, that even though I was a girl I needed to act like a man, that if I got pregnant he'd kill me, that if I ever fucked up he'd leave me in jail, geez - I could go on. He once told my best friend who was gay that homosexuals deserved to get AIDS. At this time I was liberated from my familial home and looked my father square in the eye and said, "So Dad, what did you do that was so awful that you got cancer I wonder?" He felt so ashamed he left the room and soon after apologized. I can't even count how many times I felt ashamed of him as a child.
-  I was driving my parents home from my cousin's wedding. My father couldn't even walk. He was in the back seat. He told me to stop the car. I had to stop - there was a stop sign. I had my license at this point and my own car. I was 15 years old. He got out of the back seat, opened the driver's door, grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me, all dressed up, to the pavement. My father was really strong. Washboard abs. I scraped my face and arms. I got up quickly and tried to stop him from getting in. He backhanded me. I wasn't thinking. I crawled into the backseat. And it was just another of those horror movie rides home - hiding under the front seat with my sister, while my mother screamed her fucking head off to stop the car. Horns honking everywhere around us. Sensory deprivation. Well he stopped it all right. Right in the middle of an intersection and passed out. It took us 4 hours to get home.  I have called him in 100's of times for a DUI but he was never picked up.
-  As I grew older, I asked him to put a lock on my bedroom door. My sister had started to party and my stuff began to disappear. If he got angry, he would kick my door in. I can't count how many times he fixed my door. He was beginning at this point to have an inappropriate relationship with me - telling me all about his marital woes, sexually fantasies of his (which if you are someone's child just make your cringe). All I did was continue my rant about him being alcoholic and needing to join AA. I think I am the only person he admitted to being alcoholic to. I had all the pamphlets. However he never sought help. I did catch him masturbating once which made me feel weird. However, now that I am older, it doesn't surprize me because he never felt touched or loved by his spouse in that regard.
-  He beat up my ex-husband's friends at "D's" stag. He ever punched through the wall of the facility which I had to pay to repair. Totally made an ass of himself in front of my new father-in-law.
-  I had to beg him not to drink at my wedding. He didn't drink. That the good Lord Jesus.
-  I married an alcoholic. He wasn't a drinker until his dreams all went asunder and he decided it was easier to blame me than himself for his personal issues. Didn't believe me when I said I would leave. I gave him a year to get help. Presto *ByeBye*
-  Moved into an apartment. The architectural firm I worked for at that time was closed by the bank. I put everything into storage. My drunken father, thinking it was such a great thing to do, shipped all my personal belongings to Winnepeg,  Manitoba to my drunked husband "D's" house that I was legally separated from. Can you believe that? My personal belongings. I went to go get them (2 day drive) without telling my boyfriend. While I was gone, my boyfriend's father, who I absolutely adored, had a massive stroke and died. When I got the call (this is before cell phones), my drunk ex-husband listened in to the call and then asked me if I had a boyfriend. Me being the honest woman I am, said yes. Well - I tell you - not a smart thing to do when he is 6'4" tall and 230 pounds. I truly thought he was going to kill me. I got thrown up against the wall a couple of times but managed to extricate some of my belongings and myself from the situation. That cost me $4,000.00 - to move the stuff back that is. And then my ex stole my car. My dad went and got that back.
-  Ever loving "D" set my precious dog Brutus free in a field never to be seen again. He was four years old and the absolute love of my life. When I asked him why he said, "Because you're a whore." Lovely.
-  I married my second husband who also has a history of alcohol abuse. He drinks because he can't talk about what bothers him at all. His roommate Tom Montgomery (God I miss him so much) had an intervention with him and two local doctors. His liver enzyme count was and still is through the roof. Cyrrosis...? Who knows. It was even hard to get Life Insurance. Did that change the behavior? Nope. Several years went by and then just before my second husband had his stroke, I told him to get out. He went on this rant about it being his house. Well guess what. It isn't. However, I am not hostage to any man who has issues with alcohol. I am simply gone. Period. My daughter will NEVER LIVE WITH AN ACTIVE ALCOHOLIC PERIOD. NEVER EVER NEVER. So I pulled down the suitcases in front of my child - who was confused because I seldom go over my level of tolerance - and when my husband saw I meant it, he broke down and begged us to stay. I told him I would give him another chance. Prior to the stroke, he would drink alone and selfishly. And when people came over, well slowly but surely he would continue to amp up to his old alcohol tolerance level. And the best part of all of it, is he'd make an absolute asshole of himself by demeaning me in front of my daughter. One night, she went up to him in front of company and told him to grow up and that he needed to quit drinking because he was being nasty and acting like a fool. I was proud of her for having the courage and voice I never had. However, this is NOT HER JOB. I AM THE PARENT. It didn't register with him. It never registers with a drunk. Period. Oh yeah. I get all the next day apologies but it just adds a bit more kindling to the pile in my fire pit. I just end up disliking him even more. 
So then my beloved has his stroke last year. No more alcohol for 6 months. Slowly he is reintroducing it. Red wine. Justifying it. Now beer. I just watch. My daughter has said to me she notices he is amping up again. Nothing out of control. But here's the thing. To a non-drinker or non-alcoholic - it simply just stinks. The drinker just stinks. And the behavior of feeling brave enough to go after me is slowly creeping back. Back handed insults. Nastiness. No loving gestures. Just barking. Because he simply cannot deal with his emotions and talk it out. He has a counselor. 
That is just a small sampling - so many more stories to share. Here's the thing. My husband comes from a long line of alcoholics. His own mother sees this behavior. And she knows I have absolutely no tolerance for it. So time will tell how this story plays itself out. Seems the alcohol is more important than the relationships he has in his own home. And my daughter is old enough to understand why it is unacceptable. 
So ask me again if alcohol and I can ever be good friends and I will tell you never. This is just my experience. And I could use all the memory up on this computer telling the infinite stories of how alcohol has affected the many people I love so dearly in my immediate circle.
Pray for me. I do the best I can. I just look for a positive outcome. I pray for my husband. He needs to find another way of self expression because keeping all this anger and rage stuck inside caused this stroke in the first place. He is a good man and has the ability to love. Most alcoholics do and are very smart. They are simply unable to express whatever it is that causes them such deep pain. I think the key is unlocking that pain in a safe place, getting it out and then doing your level best at moving forward. It can be done. 
My father did it. We unlocked that together before he died and I shed all my pain, my anger and my deep seated rage. We forgave each other and we said goodbye at the same time. And I had an "aha" moment. It never occurred to me that he would not remember doing any of this to me at all. Because he loved me the best he could. When I told him all the stories, he was mortified, genuinely remorseful and sobbed in my arms. It was then I brought in the clergy so they could reaffirm to him that he was a good man and that he had done the best he could despite his circumstances. Some would say he should have done better. Well we can all do better. I just accepted that love on a human level and I completely forgave him. We had the best three weeks of our lives together the last three weeks of his life. 
I miss him terribly.  I love him so totally. We are all only human trying to move through the human experience, hard as it may seem. And some of us will actually get there with a smile on our face.
And when I got home, I saw a rabbit today Daddy and knew you wouldn't mind me sharing if it helps someone else. I am your sunshine. And I know someday you will be there to hold me and protect me again like you did when you really could. xox