One Day At A Time

We interrupt your regularly-scheduled sarcasm to bring you something a little more thoughtful for a change.

I've had a particular topic subconsciously weighing on my mind and heart for quite a while, and I've finally decided I need to come to terms with it. It's hard to even write about it, but hey... this place is my own personal venting ground for the serious shit as well as the bitchy and comical.

For those of you who don't know this ~ probably most of you since I rarely mention it ~ my Hubs is a recovered alcoholic. (Recovered? Recovering? Pardon my political incorrectness; I don't know what the correct term is for someone who used to be an alcoholic but fully intends on never drinking again. Are you ever really "recovered" or are you always "recovering"?)

I wasn't aware of it when we started dating; and to be fair to him, I don't think he was either. I mean, when you're 23 or 24, drinking is a normal part of social existence. We went out with friends a lot, and it wasn't uncommon for us to go out for drinks three or four times a week.

It's a long story and I'll spare you the details, but we went through some rough times. Rough.

One day, he downed a pint of Popov while driving to my apartment, totaled his car and walked away from the accident without so much as a scratch. That was the day I told him in no uncertain terms, "Look, I spent three years in a relationship with an emotionally abusive alcoholic, and I'm never going down that road ever again. If you want to keep doing this to yourself and everyone who loves you, go for it; but I won't stick around to watch you destroy your life or someone else's, and I certainly won't let you destroy mine."

That accident turned out to be rock bottom for him, and since that day he hasn't touched a drop of booze.

When he quit drinking, I quit drinking also about a month later. While I made this choice with the best of intentions, I'm not sure it was a healthy choice.

Back then, I thought I was doing it to show that I supported him in his decision and effort to stay sober.

I mean, really. What were the odds of maintaining a healthy, loving relationship with someone who was so vulnerable to the lure of alcohol that if I had been out drinking that evening, he didn't want to be around me and couldn't even kiss me unless I first brushed my teeth or rinsed with Listerine? Slim to none.

My drinking ~ although moderate and purely social ~ created massive tension in our relationship; and it got to the point where I truly felt that I either needed to quit drinking or break up with him. So, I decided to quit drinking because I loved him; he was the most amazing man I'd ever met, and I wasn't willing to trade him for a few pints of Guinness (I loooove me some Guinness).

But now, looking back, I feel that I made that choice out of fear.

In a way, I made his problem into my problem. I thought I was doing it for the good of our relationship, when in reality I was trying to create a "bubble world" for him. I was trying to foster a protective atmosphere where he would feel safe. I thought it would help him feel more comfortable and less vulnerable to know that wherever we went, there would always be at least one other person staying sober with him.

I thought I was helping, but maybe I was hindering him and hurting myself without even realizing it.

I still don't drink. I've been sober with him for almost three years now, even though I'm not the one with the addiction. Most of the time I'm totally fine with not drinking.

Every now and then,though, I have feelings of resentment. These feelings are what led me to start questioning my choices.

Not resentment towards him; no, instead it's almost more like I resent myself. Kind of fucked up, huh? I feel like when I made that choice, I was acting out of weakness and codependency. I forced myself into living like a recovering alcoholic ~ even though I wasn't one ~ and now I'm having to deal with my own consequences.

I didn't realize that by behaving this way, I was still being an enabler.

When I hear the term "enabler" I think of someone who shields another person from the consequences of their actions, thus allowing that person to continue their pattern of destructive behavior. However, couldn't an enabler just as easily be someone who tries to shield another person from things that could make them fall back into their pattern of destructive behavior? Even though I thought I was encouraging constructive behavior on his part, was I really just still being an enabler?

These feelings have been building up gradually inside me for a while. I've sort of avoided dealing with them or analyzing them, which is easy to do because my life is insanely busy and I have no problem keeping myself preoccupied with other things.

After much thought and pondering, I brought up the subject to Hubs a few weeks ago.

The result was a long, painful, agonizing discussion. We didn't fight or argue or yell or scream, we just talked. A subject such as this one is delicate and difficult to talk about, though, because it's such an emotionally-charged subject for both of us.

Try as I might, I will never understand what it's like to be an alcoholic. Try as he might, he will never understand what it's like to be married to and live with a recovered alcoholic.

I don't want to do intentionally make a decision which could jeopardize my marriage; but I refuse to be anyone's security blanket either. I promised myself a long time ago after I broke up with Jim that I would never again change who I am as a person to make someone else happy.

At the time, I was happy with my decision to quit drinking because I felt like it was the right thing for me to do. I never once stopped to consider that I might be doing it for the wrong reasons.

I've sort of reached an impasse and I don't know what to do.

The result of our conversation was that Hubs told me, "It would be unrealistic and unfair of me to expect you to never drink again just because I can't. It would be really hard on me if you chose to start drinking again, but I also don't want you to act in a way that makes you unhappy or makes you feel like you're being untrue to yourself. If you want to have drinks with your friends or whatever, I guess we'll both just have to figure it out as we go along and deal with it one day at a time. I've just gotten so used to you not drinking; but maybe that wasn't good for me, either. In the back of my mind, I always knew that we would have to have this conversation someday and I wasn't looking forward to it."

And that is why I love him. He may not like what I have to say sometimes, but he has always loved me unconditionally and he has never asked me or tried to force me to be someone I'm not.

While flipping through my Al-Anon book "Courage To Change" the other day, I came across the entry for January 24th.

This entry hit me full-force like a freight train, because I've done this many times and never thought twice about it. I've totally passed on plans with friends before even though I wanted to go, just because there would be alcohol and drinking involved and I knew Hubs wouldn't want to go.  So I cringed when I read:

"I will dare to be myself. I may be tempted to paste a smile on my face even though I'm angry, in order to please another person. When turning down an invitation, I might want to make excuses so that nobody will be hurt. I may be inclined to cancel plans that I care about, without protest, because a loved one prefers to stay home and I don't want to make waves. These may be perfectly acceptable choices, and I may opt for any and all of them. But today, I will be honest with myself as I do so. I will not pretend to feel what I do not feel, or to want what I do not want.

"Al-Anon does not tell me how to behave. It doesn't legislate right or wrong choices. But Al-Anon does encourage me to look searchingly and fearlessly at myself, my feelings, motives, and actions. I can only learn to love myself if I am willing to learn who I am.

"Today's Reminder: I have a right to want what I want and to feel the way I feel. I may not choose to act on those feelings or desires, but I won't hide them from myself. They are part of me.

"This above all: to thine own self be true. ~William Shakespeare"

Whew. Shit.

Time to do some soul-searching, methinks.

I've been considering finding a local meeting and beginning to go to Al-Anon again. I could really use a listening ear from someone(s) who understand exactly how I'm feeling.

Just because someone hasn't drank in years ~ and never ever emotionally or mentally abused you, or beat the shit out of you, or drank away the rent money ~ does not mean that life is always skittles and rainbows. ♦

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.