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Edwin and I married in 1982. Dean was our best man. I continued my work at the school. He was finishing college and we were settling in to married life. Early on I noticed he when not working or going to school he would sit on sun porch and drink too much. Months later to my horror I realized he was in the throws of alcoholism. When I approached the subject I received behavior I had never seen from him. From that moment on things started to turn sore.
I talked with one of the therapist at work and I got a name of a good marriage counselor. To my surprise he agreed to go. Like a good addict while at the therapist he would charm the sock off of her. I speaking my truth looked like the nut. After the third session I could tell she had aligned with him. Then on the fourth session he was drunk and refused to attend. I went on my own after one half hour of talking she realized she had been taken in by my addict and felt shame about the fact as a therapist she had been duped. I never went back.
So therapy was not the answer. I was out of my league with this one. So I went to the library and asked as many people as I could about what to do. Believe it or not treatment in those days was not seen as a money maker so there were very few places to go. We went to a doctor that he charmed and would not diagnosis him. All the way, he was feeling puffed up because the professionals were not seeing through him. I continued to work. The events at home were getting worse and I did not know how to handle things. I would get into arguments that made him worse. One night he said if I did not stop he would burn our marriage license. I did not believe him and continued to try and control him. Sure enough he took matches and lit our document on fire. I went nuts and cried then called the fire department. An engine shows up for a little pile of ashes in the kitchen sink that once was our sacred paper of marriage. He had stormed out the door. And I felt out of control, ashamed, and embarrassed. He stopped drinking for awhile after that but something new would arrive and it gave him a reason to drink again. There were more and more crazy scenes.
At work all was going very well and I could escape my problems there and the work with the kids helped. During this time I heard about Alanon and started to attend. It was the beginning of my education. Then one night after a meeting IT first hit me: like a lead balloon. I was driving home down Irving Park Road in Chicago and my understanding of addict flooded my brain. The bible talks about the scales falling from your eyes. It was happening to me. I literally SAW differently, the stores, the lights, the street, everything looked new and different to me. Amazing how when you grasp a new view and understanding, in a flash, your eyes do find new sight. I realized driving home how many addicts I knew. How so much of our society was wrapped around addiction. Marker!
That my own father was an alcoholic that just stopped cold turkey when mother and he got married but he never got help so his thinking was totally alcoholic. I later learned that is a "dry alcoholic". The mind set never changes so you get the same behavior with no substance. I realized it was not about the substances but about the learned thinking and behavior and that it was passed from generation to generation in the blood and through learned behavior. His father was and addict and had left the family a long time ago. That he during this time was in Chicago getting in trouble and we would get calls for help from a hospitals or bars. That night I was changed forever. My view of him, the world around me and myself were altered. I then began to look at my own family and the bubble of how grand our family was had been popped.
Weeks later things got better because I was better. I learned that how I behaved had a lot to do with how he behaved. I learned detachment. I was taught to look at myself and my life and not his. To let him to his misery. I felt happy for the first time in awhile. I felt alone alongside him but had faith and hope in what I had learned and believed it could get better. Then one night after a meeting I went staight to kitchen to clean up. He had been drinking and tried to start a fight with me. I did what I was taught at the meeting; do not get into it. I offer him something to eat. he got mad and I continued with my washing dishes and was truly happy, unafraid and calm. Like MAGIC he came back into the kitchen and said." I don't like what you are learning at those meeting. I have to now take care of myself" I smiled and looked at him and said " That is right" He left. For weeks he was sober and life started to feel good.
Then one Saturday morning I was re-potting plants and talking with Dean on the phone. Edwin was in the bath tub. All of sudden I heard him scream, Dean was still on the phone. I walked in and saw that he had cut his wrists. I was in shock. I told Dean to come immediately. I did not know what to do. I got him out some how and dressed and instead of calling an ambulance I called a cab. Dean was there by then and the 3 of us went to the hospital. He did not know how to do it or really did not want to commit suicide because he had cut the wrist cross ways. the Doctor stitched him up but he had to be put into a psych ward.
That was not where he belonged and I tried for a week to have him put into detox and treatment but I was not successful. When he wa let out I knew I had to strike while the iron was hot and tried to convince him to get treatment. He went in for a few weeks. But over the years he would enter treatment over 8 times. I once was told that my husband was the worst alcoholic that counselor that ever seen and that I had a horrible life ahead if I were to stay with him. I stayed now 29 years.
This is the subject of another book, the tip of the ice berg, our life with alcoholism but I loved this man and I had hope. With addiction it is a life long struggle with ups and downs. There were times of separation, deaths door, countless hospital stays, and times of happiness and years of sobriety.
Web site http://www.freewebsites/messagesofhope/
I talked with one of the therapist at work and I got a name of a good marriage counselor. To my surprise he agreed to go. Like a good addict while at the therapist he would charm the sock off of her. I speaking my truth looked like the nut. After the third session I could tell she had aligned with him. Then on the fourth session he was drunk and refused to attend. I went on my own after one half hour of talking she realized she had been taken in by my addict and felt shame about the fact as a therapist she had been duped. I never went back.
At work all was going very well and I could escape my problems there and the work with the kids helped. During this time I heard about Alanon and started to attend. It was the beginning of my education. Then one night after a meeting IT first hit me: like a lead balloon. I was driving home down Irving Park Road in Chicago and my understanding of addict flooded my brain. The bible talks about the scales falling from your eyes. It was happening to me. I literally SAW differently, the stores, the lights, the street, everything looked new and different to me. Amazing how when you grasp a new view and understanding, in a flash, your eyes do find new sight. I realized driving home how many addicts I knew. How so much of our society was wrapped around addiction. Marker!
That my own father was an alcoholic that just stopped cold turkey when mother and he got married but he never got help so his thinking was totally alcoholic. I later learned that is a "dry alcoholic". The mind set never changes so you get the same behavior with no substance. I realized it was not about the substances but about the learned thinking and behavior and that it was passed from generation to generation in the blood and through learned behavior. His father was and addict and had left the family a long time ago. That he during this time was in Chicago getting in trouble and we would get calls for help from a hospitals or bars. That night I was changed forever. My view of him, the world around me and myself were altered. I then began to look at my own family and the bubble of how grand our family was had been popped.
Weeks later things got better because I was better. I learned that how I behaved had a lot to do with how he behaved. I learned detachment. I was taught to look at myself and my life and not his. To let him to his misery. I felt happy for the first time in awhile. I felt alone alongside him but had faith and hope in what I had learned and believed it could get better. Then one night after a meeting I went staight to kitchen to clean up. He had been drinking and tried to start a fight with me. I did what I was taught at the meeting; do not get into it. I offer him something to eat. he got mad and I continued with my washing dishes and was truly happy, unafraid and calm. Like MAGIC he came back into the kitchen and said." I don't like what you are learning at those meeting. I have to now take care of myself" I smiled and looked at him and said " That is right" He left. For weeks he was sober and life started to feel good.
Then one Saturday morning I was re-potting plants and talking with Dean on the phone. Edwin was in the bath tub. All of sudden I heard him scream, Dean was still on the phone. I walked in and saw that he had cut his wrists. I was in shock. I told Dean to come immediately. I did not know what to do. I got him out some how and dressed and instead of calling an ambulance I called a cab. Dean was there by then and the 3 of us went to the hospital. He did not know how to do it or really did not want to commit suicide because he had cut the wrist cross ways. the Doctor stitched him up but he had to be put into a psych ward.
That was not where he belonged and I tried for a week to have him put into detox and treatment but I was not successful. When he wa let out I knew I had to strike while the iron was hot and tried to convince him to get treatment. He went in for a few weeks. But over the years he would enter treatment over 8 times. I once was told that my husband was the worst alcoholic that counselor that ever seen and that I had a horrible life ahead if I were to stay with him. I stayed now 29 years.
This is the subject of another book, the tip of the ice berg, our life with alcoholism but I loved this man and I had hope. With addiction it is a life long struggle with ups and downs. There were times of separation, deaths door, countless hospital stays, and times of happiness and years of sobriety.
But during these years I also started to learn more about my gifts. I had heard that those of us who have "gifts" also go through trials and tribulations. It certainly was so in my case. While Edwin struggled with his demons I had a new teacher and supervisor who saw and showed me my "gifts" for the first time. She began to supervise me from a Metaphysical point of view.
Web site http://www.freewebsites/messagesofhope/
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing your story Alice. Even I have learn more about you through these post. Keep the light shining.
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