Understanding the Disease
“At the strong suggestion of a family counselor, I started attending Al‑Anon.”
In 2017, I was 5’2” and weighed 117 pounds. My six-foot son weighed 116 pounds. The swirl of confusion and chaos in my head was ever-present, making it difficult to engage. Every boundary I set was crossed, and I said nothing. Every time I made excuses for my son, I became more resentful. And every day, at least two or three times, I asked him, “Is everything okay?” Although my relationship with my son was not volatile or dangerous, it was never honest. I nearly loved him to death!
But one day when I opened my mouth, these words came out: “I love you so much, but I just can’t watch this anymore. And I can’t kick you out. You have to either stop or just leave.” I didn’t have Al‑Anon at this time, but I’m sure I had a Higher Power, because that’s who put those words in my mouth. This was the beginning of my journey to serenity, and at the strong suggestion of a family counselor, I started attending Al‑Anon. The counselor also suggested I educate myself on the disease of alcoholism.
At my first Al‑Anon meeting, I cried, talked out of turn, stared at the wall—I was numb. But I did hear the three C’s (I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it), and I was given the book I needed—the one called How Al‑Anon Works for Families & Friends of Alcoholics (B-32). This book helped me understand the program. But I still felt I needed to know more about the disease.
I read articles, listened to podcasts, and talked to recovering alcoholics, but when I attended a lecture on the neurophysiological aspect of the disease and saw pictures of the brain and the actual region that activates cravings and such, I totally got it! Now I understood that my son was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t doing this to hurt me. I could see the fear in his eyes, and I realized that he was as clueless as to why he couldn’t stop as I was.
Al‑Anon was there to guide me through all of this. If I was going to begin to recover, I needed to better understand what I was recovering from. The visual image from that lecture helped me better understand my son’s disease, and Al‑Anon helped me understand its effects on me. I live a pretty serene life today because I took the suggestions in the Twelve Steps and began to follow them.
By placing my trust in Al‑Anon and my Higher Power, I gained the courage to apply the Twelve Steps to my life. Every time I get a new insight or deeper understanding, even if it’s painful or difficult, my trust grows. My son has been sober now for four and a half years. We have a good relationship in which we speak the same language–honesty. And by educating myself on this cunning, baffling, and powerful disease and its effects on the whole family, I now find it easy to hate the disease and love my son.
By Judy D., Georgia
Reprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.
The Dinner-Party Test
I recently attended a dinner party with my husband, my recovering alcoholic son, and my son’s girlfriend. The host, not knowing about my son’s membership in Alcoholics Anonymous, asked my son what he was drinking. “Water will be fine,” he replied. The host persisted. “Are you sure I can’t get you something stronger?” he said. Every fiber of my being wanted to run interference, to throw myself between my son and what I perceived to be a temptation.
But I remembered what I had read under Step One in How Al‑Anon Works for Families & Friends of Alcoholics (B-32): “Whether or not we live with active drinking, life is unmanageable whenever we lose perspective about what is and is not our responsibility” (p. 45). My son’s sobriety is his responsibility, not mine. He, of course, handled the question beautifully. “I’m fine with water,” he said in a firm, yet loving and polite manner.
I was reminded at that moment that my 33-year-old son, who has been sober for 15 years, has his own Higher Power and his own program. I need to focus on myself and examine why I still feel the need to step in. Just as my son is powerless over alcohol, so am I powerless over my perceived need to mother a competent, full-grown man. I’m thankful that I have a Higher Power and my Al‑Anon program to remind me that “One Day at a Time,” one minute at a time, one dinner party at a time, I am powerless over alcohol and could easily step back into unmanageability by losing my perspective.
By Susan K., Missouri
Reprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.
When I Let It
When I first started in Al‑Anon, I knew I needed help. I knew I needed to change myself to survive my relationship with my newly sober spouse. Now that he was working a program, I had become the crazy one! So, I reluctantly brought myself to my first meeting, having exhausted all other options. I didn’t know if Al‑Anon would help, or how, but I knew I needed something. I finally wanted what those folks had—peace and serenity.
I really enjoyed the meetings. The people were nice, the stories were real, and I didn’t feel alone anymore. At the end of every meeting, they’d say, “Keep Coming Back.” But I didn’t really latch onto the slogans or acronyms. I did my fair share of reading, and I understood the premise of Al‑Anon intellectually, but it was not a part of me—yet.
But, as the slogan goes, I kept coming back. And guess what? It worked when I let it! About three months in, I found a Sponsor and started working the Steps. Slowly but surely, without me really realizing it, Al‑Anon became a part of me. I no longer have to try to remember a slogan or an acronym. I just know them. I no longer have to think, “What would Al‑Anon members say or do here?” It’s become instinctive.
Al‑Anon gave me the peace and serenity I sought. But, as I hear at every meeting, I have to “Keep Coming Back” and allow the program to work.
By Alicia C., Texas
Reprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.