Over the next several weeks, I settled on my three meetings - the wild child group on Friday night, the supportive moms on Monday morning, and out of frustration for other women's daytime AA groups, settled on a "Double Winners" Wednesday meeting that happened to be co-ed. This meeting, incidentally, continues to be my primary meeting I still attend. And though co-ed, Fleet would be happy to know that I've *never* been hit on in the almost 4 years I've attended! I also settled on a sponsor from the wild child group, who I was touched by in her making time to meet with me to hear my story. I know that's part of the deal in AA and being a sponsor, but there is something very touching when you're new to have someone - a volunteer, a stranger - agree to put aside time (she was a single mom of a young girl) to meet with someone that they have no guarantee will even work the program. End up being a waste of their time.
I was still shocked to hear her response to me when we first met when asked about the consequences I'd had so far in my drug/alcohol usage.
None, I said.
Nothing legal? No threats of divorce? No DUI's? Why the hell'd you quit, then?
Shrug. God?
Shit, she says, I'd still be out there. You have a real high bottom.
That's maybe a scary thought. Because, of course, a person would wonder if they really do have a problem. I know it's been my question about alcohol since day 1. I had talked to this Addiction Doctor guy on the phone, this Dr. McCauley. And he agreed that within 4-6 months, once my dopamine levels were normalized that I very well could go back to having a normal relationship with alcohol. But one would never know unless they went back out there -- and hopefully came back in when they realized it wasn't working. A potential sponsor from the Monday supportive mom meeting asked me, if drinking isn't an issue (you can take it or leave it) and you know it might be a risk....why risk it? Good question. I think I needed to verify it really being a problem since it hadn't been in the past.
Anyway, my wild child sponsor, she didn't think I was a waste of time. She met with me, listened to me, offered her phone number, and gave me assignments to work through the beginning steps. Of course the hardest to me was admitting I was powerless over alcohol and that my life had become unmanagable.
I was almost offended by the word - alcoholism. I felt as if everyone in the place was just waiting for you to claim yourself an alcoholic. I mean, why would you come in the first place? As if they were bitter that there might be "normies" out there that could drink with control. But for the time being, I could admit that alcohol was an issue right NOW and that alcoholism was in our family through my grandfather. But unmanagable? What the hell? That word pissed me off too. Heck, I was known as the rock in the family. I was the one that held everything together. I KEPT things from being chaotic!
I've since realized chaos/unmanagability doesn't have to exist externally for there to be a major dump of chaos going on inside our heads. My brain, my co-dependent thinking, was in considerable bedlam. Sure I was intelligent enough to piece together the healthy things to think, yet up til this point, and certainly when not putting effort into it, my brain went amok. I was a veritable unmanaged emotional wreck.
But I was learning too. We were coming up on Thanksgiving of '05 and headed to Ohio to visit Jim's family. He had wanted to skip therapy to get on the road earlier. I knew, however, how extremely important it was to go -- if only for the symbolic coaches' pep talk before the big game of meeting up with family. Who else better to push buttons and put us right back into our own internal hell but Family.....and oh. my. heavens. The in-laws! I needed a bit of support to grasp hold of. AND I needed for my husband to see therapy as important. But more than anything else, I needed to stand my ground. We'd already missed an appointment together the week before, so we really hadn't spent much time at all delving into our issues as a couple. Looking back, I also needed to acknowledge that Jim wasn't a tough customer about many of the requests I feared asking of him. I just needed to stand my ground and ask. And usually, he did come around.
We were able to talk about the need for me to be an observer more than a participant, identify my feelings and thoughts around his family members. Take note. Be an outsider, a bystander. Journal and have a plan for coping or getting away if I needed to. I also planned a "special drink" that I could have in a wine glass so that I didn't feel that I was being deprived. (I loved soda water with a lime.) And I also confided in two of Jim's three sisters so that I didn't feel the questions behind my back about why I wasn't drinking wine with dinner. I remember them being so supportive (Oh God bless your little heart!) Fleet also gave me a smooth, handheld stone to remind me of the rock of strength I had through my Higher Power.
My observations? Not drinking wasn't ever an issue - for me, or for others. There was no talk that I was aware of that I wasn't drinking, nor did I feel the need to imbibe. Yet, I did find that I felt self-conscious and defensive. Anxious with how my kids acted, running around the house without care, fighting with one another with nary a comment from their dad. Or in observation of whether or not we'd demand that the kids attend church, Jim would rather not go than cause the kids to fight about it. Also, there seemed to be a tendency for Jim to act like a hard-ass to me around his family, almost as if to show that he wasn't "whipped" which in turn would cause me to show how little crap I'd tolerate from him. It was an antagonistic relationship that we didn't have at home. I could also notice an irritation with his family for allowing Jim to be disrespectful - like coming to the dinner table when called - as if he was the special child. The Doctor! And though I could acknowledge that I made myself feel that way, I noticed that I felt very much outside the family. It was my own responsibility to include myself - no special concern was made by Jim or his sisters to make me feel welcome....even though I'd been part of the family for 18 years.
Most of all, I was able to sit back and acknowledge a great amount of anger burning inside. When all else was quiet like this, and I just sat back and listened - and watched - I was increasingly surprised by my anger, despite making such tremendous strides recently and feeling so many blessings. I was so PISSED with my household role! I felt that anger and resentment first started when having kids - and I was hugely shocked by that. I loved kids and tried for years to have my own; would have been devastated if we couldn't. So being pregnant after years of trying, I was so blissful! Imagine my shock and surprise when I had this baby that often seemed inconsolable, who I was also up every two hours for breastfeeding all night! I never imagined how all consuming, how self-sacrificing children would be - especially when you wanted/still want/love them so much. Jim was of little help 1) because he was a resident and 2) because he didn't have nipples! His life hardly skipped a beat - and still hadn't to that point - he was able to run, go out on an errand at the drop of a hat without another thought. He could say, "I'm going _____ or doing ______" no matter what was happening at home. I could never do that - even when he was home. I needed to make sure the bases were covered, the schedule was reviewed, people were going to be fed,etc. I was always the one to handle the chaos/the tears. As they grew, I needed to handle their tears and fighting but only in the way HE was okay with - because my mother was always held up as a threat to me. I couldn't spank or seem overly too harsh. Yet he wouldn't take part himself. There at Thanksgiving, for example, he'd been able to hide away at his sister's computer or behind the paper, the kids arguing/running in circles around the house - and he was oblivious. Took no action at all. The fact that my entire life had changed and his had hardly skipped a beat was tremendously frustrating, especially when I was nagged to do it all over again with another child. By not just him, but his mother too. It'd be so easy for him - he could just easily enjoy their child wonder as it worked for him, but whenever he needed/wanted something else - he'd just get up and do it. When they were younger, and the stress and strain became too much that I voiced something (which really had to reach some horrendous level for me to say boo), he'd encourage me to go out/leave. And on the few occasions that I did that, I really wanted him to handle it all. I wanted desperately for him to juggle everything - the house, the chaos of the kids, so that he'd GET it! Even though, I knew he'd do it in his own way, probably multi-tasking way less so that, of course, he'd never be able to feel what I felt on a daily basis. However, he never would do it on his own. He'd have his sister or his mom come and help him out over the weekend.
All this was brewing over Thanksgiving that year, though I can look back and truly say that it was a decent holiday weekend despite my new recovery status. Amazing what you can neutralize within yourself given years of practice.
Little did I know what forshadowing it held for months to come...
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