Powerlessness

Step One: 

"We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable." 

Powerlessness: a rather loaded word for me. Growing up in my home my role was and sometimes still is to "fix". In my child's mind if I acted out, played around, joked, danced, sang, screamed shouted- whatever, I was distracting us all from the painful reality of our household. i was distracting us from the rage, the showdowns and the catastrophic evils that seemed to sweep us up without a moments notice.

My first ever memory is being two- my mom holding my hand and shouting at my father "look at what you are doing to her!" My dad was drunk and I was screaming and crying. It was 2 a.m and apparently I was a pretty powerful weapon- could I get my dad to sober up? Could that little girl begging without words for everything to be better get him to change? No. He was and still is crippled by a disease. The same way if he had had cancer I couldnt have begged that away, nor could I beg his alcoholism away. 

Did I try? Absolutely. Do I still? Some days more than others but I'm working on it. Step one has meant that I need to learn to mind my own business. I grew up having to be right all the time so I could control the uncontrollable. I grew up needing to know everything at once and feeling a general "have to" feeling.

I forgive myself for this flaw- which was once a survival tool that I am grateful for.

Step one challenged me because I felt that it meant I was giving up- the alanon sayig of "we are powerless over people, places and things" did not sit well with me. I equated powerless with weakness and defeat. I also felt as if I was betraying my father and my whole dysfunctional family by "giving up" by admitting powerlessness. as I grew into this step I had to work hard. I had to give up 28 years of acting like God and just be a humble human with limitations.

When my dad drank my mother controlled. She ruled the roost so to speak with threats, shouting, dominance and a giant thumb that the whole family lived under. It was suffocating to say the least. God bless her she did not have the recovery program that I had that she so badly needed. Living with a very ill man she became very ill herself. Living with both of them as examples I became very ill also. My whole family did- they don't call it a family disease for nothing! When I first started alanon I could not fathom how my brother and sister would survive without it. I pushed my program on them as a form of controlling alcoholism- I should have minded my own business with this but I didn't. That's OK... I was just starting out and probably always will be.

I have gained so much relief and sanity from the notion of powerlessness. Awareness of my powerlessness over this disease and the symptoms which manifest from the disease is supreme to my recovery. I feel so grateful to step one. I feel grateful that I have been given a chance to start out again.

Powerlessness has been the most empowering thing that has happened to me. I have had to work hard and develop and not without growing pains but it has truly enabled me to start to grow towards step two and a saner place.

The Step.

One year on from starting the Al-Anon program I have decided to start writing about my recovery in an attempt to solidify any growth that has and may continue to come about. I also hope to offer some service by the way of my writing to others who have lived with the disease of alcoholism.

What happened one year ago that brought me to Al-Anon?

Well...how I was actually brought to my first al-anon meeting was in a tuk tuk coursing through the grimy streets of Chiang Mai, Thailand. Of course I didn't actually need to go to a meeting because I wasn't the alcoholic- my dad was (and still is). So why was I breaking into a sweat and attempting to jump out of the tuk tuk every time we stopped in traffic if I was totally fine and not in need of an al-anon meeting?

What brought me there... another holiday ruined by the demons that had followed me from my dysfunctional childhood home to a posh hotel room 28 years later. Those lil babies managed to check in to my room with me, go to the bar with me every night, shop at the markets with me and even shower with me. Yes. My unseen, all pervasive demons were yet again getting a holiday in an exotic destination and I was footing the bill...

My demons are multiple and endless, vicious and insidious. My demons smell of Guinness and reek of loss. My demons carry the broken furniture from my family home around in their pockets and poke me with it every now and then. My demons tell me that I am not good enough when my husband puts his arms around me. My demons tell me not to write this because it won't be good enough.

Enough about the demons already! (See what they did there? Took up a whole damn paragraph).
This is a blog about recovery. I was at breaking point in that hotel room. I was damaged, frightened, riddled with anxiety and depression and teetering on the edge of reason. Now here's the catch. no one else knew- or so I thought. I presented as a strong, fearless and together woman. I fixed things that needed fixing. I had the house, husband, car, job, friends and nice clothes that painted a pretty picture. I was however burning up on the inside. That night I had hit emotional rock bottom. In classic co-dependent, adult child of alcoholic fashion I was searching on line for a way to fix my sister who was depressed at the time. I came across a website about codependency and there was a checklist. I started to do the checklist for my sister and lo and behold she ticked ALL of the boxes. Through my tears I stared at that screen and relief flooded every one of my cells as I realized that I had saved her!!! I had saved her and...hang on...shit- I checked every box as well. Ouch.

After a little more searching online I ended up on the al-anon homepage and started to read about myself...turns out those demons in the bed next to me at the fancy hotel were not unique to me at all. Turns out that I had a generic set of demons that seem to follow people around who suffer from the family disease of alcoholism.

I found a meeting. I got way too dressed up and hailed a tuk tuk taxi. I was terrified.

I felt like I was going to my own funeral. In some ways I actually was. My old self who was living with this awful illness alone was about to be put to rest. I was about to be born into recovery. The first step was step one. Sounded easy:

Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and that our lives had become unmanageable.

Next post will be on how rewarding that step was and still is how absolutely wrong I was on the "easy" part.

Thanks for reading!

Love,

Di x

P.S- it gets better. The demons are cleaning my kitchen right now. Seriously.

Is your life affected by someones drinking? See http://www.al-anon.alateen.org/ for info and meeting locations near you.