In the Name of Tough Love

If you noticed at all, in early December I spent a few writings making my way through a timeline of sorts.  And then I took a break from this writing, specifically.  I mean, it WAS Christmas time, and I really didn’t want to put negative energy out into the world or take it in as well.  And writing allows me to process things differently.  More deeply.  More responsibly. I was talking to a sober friend recently, and he described my morning writing as my own AA meeting in solitude.  That was eye-opening and entirely true.  That’s what this time means to me.  Taking in thoughts, assessing them, and intentionally deciding my actions.  My words. 

It is incredibly challenging to revisit these years…London, my first marriage, the time of divorce…for two reasons.  Because it’s hard to explain in an appropriate way, still owning my side of the street…and because it brings up resentments that I still struggle with.  I can easily say that I’ve done a lot of work around my most deep-seated resentment, but it resides in a relationship that is still present in some way.  With the father of my children.  We are in a different place right now, thankfully, but that doesn’t mean that we have ever talked about some aspects of the past.  I am now focused on my current marriage, which is loving and supportive and is benefiting greatly from my recovery.  And he is in a relationship which seems just as healthy for him.  But as co-parents, there is an expectation to still communicate on a weekly (sometimes daily) basis and see one another regularly.  Yep, it’s been fun over the years. 

And of course, it’s important to realize that I am now sober, so issues that we may have had in the past are affected by this fact.  That doesn’t mean that it’s all better.  It means that we are working towards a new dynamic.  At least that is my intention.

It’s quite the dilemma to present the story so that others may see themselves in it, to be responsible for my part, and NOT welcome negative consequences into my life at this point.  But it’s also important for me to talk about the difficult parts of living with the disorder.

I feel very strongly about certain things, and that includes the effects of negative words and actions of others.  And so, I must write about it.  Otherwise, I compromise what I’m trying to do here entirely…which is to educate and be of service to others who are struggling in addiction. I hope that makes sense.

No, I’m not the Grand Teacher of Addiction.  My story is singular, but I believe enough of them aren’t being told.

And of course, there are TWO sides to every story.  I think it would be very, very interesting to have a blog where both the “Addicted” and the “Loved One of the Addicted” presented their stories, emotions and viewpoints.  Both sides are entirely relevant, and I’m sure the general public and the individuals themselves would benefit.  You know, a little Dr. Phil: He Said, She Said presentation. 

“Today on Dr. Phil….a couple revisits their War Over Power and Control when addiction was present.”  I would have tuned in to hear, but mainly waiting for what the hell Dr. Phil had to say…because we needed help.  Serious help. 

It may not come as a surprise that addiction is often called “a family disease.”  Yes, my actions contributed to this, but the addict is not always the only one with the problem.  We often blame the addict.  Even discount them.  Criticize and judge.  Try to hold them accountable for their actions.  This most definitely occurred in my case.  But there were byproducts of being in my position.  Consequences for me, my children, and even my former partner.

The dilemma of trying to get someone struggling to admit addiction and to get help is real.  And complicated.  And in truth, I have never been in this position.  I have only been the individual who had the disorder, heard words of others and endured actions and decisions that were supposed to be helpful.  This was always confusing, because in many cases, they did not feel helpful at all.

There was confusion surrounding often misinterpreted terms such as accountability.  I can tell you that the use of this term and the actions or decisions made in its name usually felt like control, punishment and shaming.  These were not only counterproductive but also damaging.  And unfortunately, the majority of it came during years when I did not have trust in my partner.  This just confused matters and made it more difficult to isolate my drinking behavior from fear and resentments.

A crucial part of my recovery has been telling the truth, being entirely forthcoming about my own actions, and also identifying the actions of others- not with the intention to place blame, but to be able to determine the difference between the two.  In this inspection, I had to stray from the concept of cause and effect.  It couldn’t be a timeline.  I had to literally make my actions their own column, devoid of the actions of others, in order to view them objectively.  When I did this, I could see myself fully, and yes….it wasn’t a pretty picture.  But a picture nonetheless.  And then I had to accept my past, each and every action, and determine if I wanted something different moving forward.  I did.  And then I got to work.

And the other column?  The one with the actions of others?  Well, I had to take a look at that as well.  Shame made me question myself…sometimes too much.  I was even told that I caused it all and deserved it all.  But to accept this as the truth is damaging and only fueled my disorder. 

So that’s why I am divulging this part of the story.

I believe his behavior and actions initially stemmed from my drinking…from not wanting to enable me or as an attempt to control the disorder itself.   No, it was never physical abuse.  Sometimes this came as consequences for drinking, and sometimes it bled into criticism for just about everything.  What started out as likely an attempt to control the drinking behavior turned into blatant disrespect and manipulation.  I have no doubt that my own behavior was baffling and maddening….but eventually, I began to feel discounted and shamed in ways that affected my feelings of self-worth and respect.  I cannot say that I deserved it all.  That I deserved negative feedback and actions that didn’t even have to do with my drinking….that I deserved being disrespected emotionally, mentally and physically. 

I felt devalued as a partner, mother and human being.  Less than.  Weak and worthless. This is a terrible state to be in.  And I don’t believe anyone can recover in this state.   

Back in London, I had already begun to assume a submissive nature that made me susceptible to control and manipulation.  Shame is a bitch, and it can lead you to be terribly taken advantage of.  Often, my viewpoint was entirely discounted.  Again, yes, I drank during this period.  And so, you may assume that I "deserved" it then (watch out for the slippery slope).  And for argument’s sake, let’s even say that this is true.  But when I was abstinent and striving for sobriety after returning home, which lasted for several substantial months, it did not stop.  In fact, it increased as certain truths were revealed.  Sometimes I wondered if he was actually trying to get me to drink, so that he could take the children from me.  Yes, this is what filled my head on a regular basis, while we were negotiating (if you can call it that), while I was still in the home.

Maybe it first started because I had already been a stay at home mom, in a subordinate role in the family and was financially dependent upon my husband at the time.  Maybe it was also because I already felt mounds of shame surrounding my past drinking.  Either way, I lost all courage and respect for myself when dealing with him, and therefore I accepted decisions that did not support recovery in any way. 

Here's the problem.  If you are always arguing from a point of weakness, you are more likely to accept another person’s version of reality.  I was always told WHY I drank, as if I was crazy and needed someone else to define it for me.  And it didn’t have anything to do with being weak.  Or wanting to behave like a victim.  Or not caring about my children.  Hearing this was beyond crazy-making.

Let me clarify, hearing that I WANTED all of these things was crazy-making.  No one drinks because they want negativity.  But understanding that drinking BROUGHT much of what I didn't want in my life would be a crucial turning point in the future.  It didn't matter if I deserved it or not.  Objectively speaking, negative consequences occurred.  Make sense?

Truth-telling:  If punishments were ever meant to encourage my recovery, they only produced more fear and resentment that would take years to understand.  Eventually, we would reach an agreement, which meant that I would accept whatever I was offered, and we would both try to just move on. 

Sure, I moved on.  I was alone 50% of the time when my children were with him.  And I had plenty of time to resent the lies and threats that got me there.  And because I now drank alone, I seemed to deny the fact that it could still be hurting me or my children.  This argument was terribly ill-conceived.

This is how I dealt with dis-empowerment.  This is how I dealt with fear and pain.  This is how I dealt with the trauma of the past.  I drank alone, while kids were at their fathers for another 5 years.  I did not feel crazy.  Sometimes, I actually felt justified to act out in this way, because I had been denied of any power to fight back at any other time.  Pretty passive-aggressive.  Yes?

Another damaging aspect of this relationship was its effect on my children.  As a society, we seem to have accepted this disease model, but unfortunately, it is also used in incorrect and counter-productive ways.  When I was told I was sick, and my children were told I was sick, it was as if the world was telling me that my opinions, thoughts and feelings were irrelevant...that I was unworthy.  I didn’t deserve to speak up.  I didn’t deserve to fight him.  Staying compliant was accountability.  Staying compliant was right for the children.

I cannot tell you how damaging this was.  I lost my spirit entirely.  This, too, was a progressive disease.  I did that.  I allowed that.  You teach people how to treat you, and the results were crippling.

Let me be clear.  Honesty is accountability.  Proving sobriety is accountability.  There were plenty of times when both were present, that I had to accept many other things in the name of accountability.  And what happened when I did?  Well, I felt even more discounted and dis-empowered.  It wasn’t productive to be humbled or shamed any more than what was self-imposed.  I have never been a child who needs to be punished, and if messages were couched in control and power, I was stockpiling resentments like there was a severe drought in the forecast. 

Years later, I would need to separate my personal resentment for him from my responsibility for my drinking…because these two concepts had been entangled for years.  Drinking alone was relief, but also a passive aggressive stance against control and power.

Over a year ago (and almost 5 years into drinking alone), my ex-husband dictated a stipulation once more, without any legal standing.  My daughter had come by the house unexpectedly and found me tipsy, suspecting that I had been drinking.  No, I did not have formal possession of the children on this day.  But it was enough for him to call me and tell me that I would not have possession moving forward, and that I could see them on Sundays for a two-hour period. 

And what did I do?  What did my behavior look like? 

Well, I’ve already told this part of the story.

Like a woman who cowers to power and like a woman who struggles with a disorder.

This was when I completely imploded, delving right into full-force daily alcoholic drinking that led straight to rehab.  No, I didn’t fight him, even though it is doubtful that his argument would have stood up in court.  I felt shameful.  Defeated.  And also tired of fighting this thing called addiction.  I wanted out, man.  Out of the game.  And out of the game of cowering to another human being, frankly.   

The primary focus of my time in rehab was looking at my own drinking behavior.  But another part, was looking at the courage to change even more than that.  This was crucial.

So, upon completion of a 30-day Inpatient Treatment program, I had to face him again.  Yes, I had admitted defeat against addiction and went away for treatment yet again.  And yes, I was completely honest about this “failure.” 

AND…

I was worthy to put up a fight.  For myself and my relationship with my children. 

This time, I chose actions which supported my beliefs and capabilities as a parent.  I am thankful that I saw things differently and risked having an unbiased party determine our fate.  I was an alcoholic.  I was an equal.  And through appropriate accountability, I was just as worthy a parent. 

I fought for what I thought was right for my relationship with my children.  I did not feel weak 10 months ago.  I did not feel unable to live up to the task of mothering.  I did not feel that my children would be hurt or jeopardized by being in my home.  So….as long as they wanted to be here, I would fight whatever and whoever I needed to.  That’s all there was to it.  The result was the return to our 50/50 custody arrangement.  This victory would be a substantial turning point in my relationships.  My relationship with my children.  And my relationship with their father.  It was also crucial in the recovery of self-worth and self-respect.  If I don’t have it for myself, how can I expect anyone else to treat me as such?

I am grateful that I now have an environment which is supportive.  In truth, I know that I am lucky.  The circumstances surrounding addicts are not all the same.  There’s just no way that we can categorize us all and define us as weak and choosing to drink because we are selfish and immoral.  Come on, ya’ll. 

I was already drinking again when Mike and I reunited a few years ago.  Since I never raged when drunk, it took quite a while for him to decide that I was a problematic drinker.  But eventually it became obvious.  He never put me down or threatened me.  When he spoke to me, it was always with love and respect.  Never once did I feel judged or shamed, and evidently this worked for me.  At least it got me through the doors of rehab.  His support has always been non-judgmental and encouraging.  Period.

Which came first?  Courage, Respect or Sobriety?  I don’t really know.  I believe they occurred simultaneously and fueled one another.  And the result has been life-changing. 

These things called body, mind and spirit are not a triumvirate for me.  They don’t create a triangle with distinct corners where one side ends, and another begins.   They are part of a circle where I can’t identify their meeting points, with indistinguishable points of overlapping union.  And if there’s a break, it all becomes shapeless and confused.

My spirit was broken for years.  It’s strange to see it all now, now that courage has replaced fear.  And it’s odd to see how irrational and emotional thinking led me to ridiculous choices.  But my weakness became DUAL-focused, two areas where I could not function healthily, and bled into decision making and parenting itself.  And my children saw that. 

I wish more than ANYTHING…that I would have realized that I would never FEEL and BEHAVE like an equal if I ever continued to drink.  I would only add to my dis-empowerment and shame.

When I drank, I was fighting a futile war against the wrong enemy.

Because here’s the irony.  And it’s substantial:  POWER and CONTROL were never in the room with me.  I was alone with myself, feeding insecurity, pain, doubt and shame.  And THOSE fellows would keep me unworthy and dis-empowered.  He didn’t make me weak.  My actions did.

If punishment would have worked, I would have stopped drinking years ago.  I promise that I’ve punished myself more than anyone else.  And guess what?  I won’t remain sober if that continues.  Nope.  It won’t happen.  So letting go of the shame doesn’t mean that I don’t feel regret, it means that I accept the past and take on the responsibility to never repeat it.  And I make sure that my actions support my recovery in every way. 

I figure that you can probably tell what my stance is regarding imposed shame and punishment on adults in active addiction or recovery.  Especially in the name of accountability.  And there must be a distinction between accountability and punishment.  They are not the same.  Each situation must be handled individually, and perhaps by an unbiased party.  There is much emotion to sort through, by the addicted individual and their loved ones.  But to assume that all problems come from the addict, is naïve and sometimes damaging.

I believe strongly that we must support anyone in recovery.  And if they are striving for sobriety, especially in treatment, they should be surrounded by love and encouragement.  Otherwise, the effects can be counter-productive at best, and even damaging.  The goal of a punishment is to shame, guilt, impose authority, or harm. And the motivation behind punishment comes from a place of emotion and a need to maintain control.

Accountability is a tricky word.  I have come to accept and value it, but it has taken much to discern what to be accountable for.  To whom.  And how to show it.

I have learned that unfiltered honesty is the best accountability.  With people that I TRUST.  And THAT can and SHOULD include proving sobriety, physically.  At least for a while.  That’s not being controlled.  It is being accountable.

I have had to decipher appropriate fear and move through it. 

I have had to determine appropriate boundaries with people who give negative criticism and feedback.  I decide what I take in.

I have had to summon rational thought and find trustworthy people to help guide my decisions. In truth, I needed help and support at this in the beginning.  I could not do this alone, any more than I could see my drinking behavior objectively.

I have had to understand what decisions support recovery and what decisions hinder it.

And most importantly, I have had to decipher what actually occurs when I drink.  What I do to MYSELF by that behavior.  

Hmmmm….power.  Interesting concept.

I would NEED power and clarity to see my own actions and reclaim my life.

I would NEED power to stand in fear and move forward in courage. 

This kind of power is appropriate, and it comes from self-respect and self-worth.

I hope that the takeaway from this story is that we all have demons that we fight, and sometimes they BECOME of our own making.  I perpetuated the issues with my drinking and even added to them.  That was my responsibility to see.  Of course, I’m sure it was easy for a non-problematic drinker to see.  Obviously, I needed some help with this inspection and interpretation. 

And that began with sobriety.