Alcoholism is Like Flu ITs' Symptoms Spread to EVERYONE in ITs' Path....

There is nothing that frustrates me more than when a person fresh into recovery says that their drinking didn't hurt anyone and the bills were paid. They claim they were only hurting themselves. They share stories of escaping to the garage or den to drink alone. They state with pride that they never raised their voice or a hand to their loved ones or kids while drunk or high. They boast that they made it to ball games and recitals regularly. "To BE or Not to BE," IS the question in active addiction and recovery. Addictions' most powerful tool is denial.

The families of Alcoholics live in a secretive world. The kids grow up thinking it is somehow wrong but is normal to them. The non-using spouse takes on the role of caretaker for the user and sometimes the enabler. They are also the fixer to hide the messes from the kids and neighbors. They are usually a wreck most of the time. They are never at ease. The alcoholic is a ticking bomb when drinking. We sip and sip and the family waits for when we are going to go "BOOM!"

As a drunk I had anger issues. They did not become physical but the tongue is more cutting than the sword. This was not daily but frequent enough. I was also emotionally unavailable to my wife and kids when THEY needed me. My drinking came first PERIOD. There were times I tried to force my way into a DAD moment with the kids to show what a great guy I was. Those were my moments of need not theirs. They didn't reach out. I reached in.

I was also the great orator and lecturer when drunk, quite the philosopher king actually. At least that's the way my drunken mind perceived it. All drunks think they just brim with wisdom when filled with beer or grog and we must share it with the world. The pub wasn't invented for shelter. It was needed for the meeting of the minds! The drunk makes a point, is so impressed with himself he makes it again, then does so once more with a little more flavor just in case the CAPTIVE audience didn't catch the brilliance the first two times through.

WARNING! To the family or lay person DO NOT interrupt the drunk in his brilliant Hamlet like moments. Refer to "BOOM," statement above for further clarification.

The family MUST adapt to the drunk. They become actors, performers and schizophrenics as they try to please and appease the whims and fancy of the day. The more drunk the better and more precise the performance. It is a survival skill for each family member. It is also ways to try to steal glimpses of affection and good favor from the drunk and hopefully escape his wrath when he snaps. I have been on both sides of the scene as a drunk and growing up in a family with alcohol issues.

I also run into the loved ones of alcoholics who say "it's his problem. I'm fine." There's an Aerosmith song that has an acronym definition for F.I.N.E. that would fit well here. If you live with monkeys for 20 years you will begin to crave bananas and pick lice from your fellow monkeys' hair. That's the way it goes. As the sober and somewhat sane adult in the family you have to take on the role of both parents. You have to cover for, lie, enable and often have become co-dependent with the drunk. I am here to tell you from experience not expertise YOU ARE AFFECTED. Chances are the person was a drunk when you got together with them. That means something was misfiring in your "inner self" before you tied the knot. Why would someone intentionally walk into a mine field?

I am coming up on 3 years sober. I have been in recovery and private therapy for all of that time. I am growing and changing. I am not a drunk any longer. I will always be an alcoholic with "isms." I am working towards being the man I have always aspired to be. Some days I act like a drunk without a drink. I am a human and a work in progress. I pray that I will always want to be making steps forward and never be satisfied that I have "made it" as a human.

Squeaky and I have been going through some terrible patches lately. They are the worst we have ever encountered as a couple or as husband and wife. That is not unusual when a drunk gets sober. "I AM HERE." What a shock that must be to her and the kids. Her whole apple cart has been upended. Lord knows I'm not exactly a wallflower. Self-confidence certainly isn't a problem. However, after years of being disengaged I am a new guy and we are just getting to know each other again.

Suddenly I want to make changes in the way things are done from raising the kids to decorating the house. My wife says to herself, "Who does he think he is? I've been handling this all this time!" In a few short years of clarity I step in and make plenty of "helpful" recommendations on how things OUGHT to be. She sees them as criticism. There's a thin line between the two. Who wouldn't be miffed after I was AWOL for so long? She is used to the way things were and how she dealt with them. Living with an alcoholic can be a mind game for sure. Just because I am now sober doesn't mean we aren't both still suffering from the effects of the disease.

The great news is that we BOTH have open minds and want to have better communication. I often have a problem with one way communication and I'm the one communicating. That being said, recovery has taught me that I am not the center of the universe or the home. She is stepping out and going to a support group to work on HER. We have decided not to FIX each other. We will leave that to GOD. In the end we will accept life on its' terms and come up with new solutions to our old problems together.

For anyone who drinks too much and thinks it isn't hurting anyone else I can say with complete confidence... you're wrong. It impacts everyone in your orbit. To those living with an alcoholic or addict that says to themselves, "It's not my problem,"... it is. To the both of you I say good luck. I hope you both find sobriety, clarity and the grace of GOD...

Squeaky Speaks! Life with an Alcoholic....a Wife's Point of View!

Hey gang long time no blog. Well, this is it. My wife speaks! These are her words. I put her through hell and back. Let her tell you about it.

Hi, I'm Kris Connolly, also known as Squeaky. I’m not the writer in the family, that would be my husband and our oldest daughter. They’re writers.  I’m just a mom, a wife and a friend who’s been through some life.

I grew up with 2 parents (still married to this day!), 1 sister & 3 brothers. I guess you could say we had a kind of “Cleaver” life.  I grew up in Berwyn when everyone knew who everyone was and where your parents knew what you did before you even got home to deny it. Life was simple and easy. My dad has his own company so we were pretty spoiled. Mom didn’t like for us to stay out late so we were pretty naive. That was until we broke loose and discovered life; drinking, smoking & breaking curfew. I drank in high school, doesn’t everybody?  It’s a phase, right?  We didn’t have any alcoholics in the family.

Of course we pretty much had our share of strange relatives, as does every other family. We were able to drink wine on holidays, it was no big deal. We had a “friend” of the family who got blasted at every family function. He was a sloppy drunk and quite embarrassing. I later heard he had a drinking problem and started a recovery process. That was the first time I’d ever heard of people that could not stop drinking. Personally, drinking made me tired and slow. I had no use for it - and then there was prom night 1984. I had a few too many, got a little crazy with my boyfriend and 9 months later there was beautiful baby girl. Talk about growing up fast! 

 As a single teenage mother I didn’t have my "crazy" time until about 21. I had a good job working for Dad’s company. Every Friday night we would all go out to the local bar after work and there I met HIM, the “bad boy”. He was married, good looking, tattooed, rude and drunk. There was my chance to not be “Mom” and get crazy. I got loaded that night and did some things out of character. A year later I ended up marrying him. 

He had a drinking problem and I knew it from the start. I was just having fun until he told me he was getting divorced, because of me. Oh, great! I knew what he was, I heard about these “types” that drink all the time. One of my co-workers even went so far as to say he was an alcoholic. I was sure he drank because he was in a "bad marriage". Ok, I’ll marry him and he’ll be happy and not drink. I soon learned that anytime was “beer:30” in his world and it was always 5 o’clock somewhere. The drinking was insane and soon so was I.

On to plan B. Let’s have a baby! That will certainly make him stop! Shortly thereafter a beautiful baby girl was born, then a baby boy. I found myself alone, now raising 3 kids. He went out every night after work, came home so drunk he could barely crawl up the stairs. On to plan C. Let’s move and buy a house. Once he has an established home and family he will surely stop drinking. Well, that didn’t work either. His drinking escalated to the point of no return. We had knock down, full on fights. He could certainly throw a punch but my sober stamina and crazy Italian blood wouldn’t allow it. I knew he would eventually wear out and I would win. I only looked like I lost according to the police and E.R. doctors. Needless to say the marriage was over. I gave him one last chance, the booze or your family, and his exact quote to me was “You don’t want to hear my answer."

Fast forward about 5 years. I was working for a small export company that rented space from my sister's company. It was great to be in the same building with my family. I remember one day I was feeling very depressed and lonely.  I walked out into the main office and saw this strange fellow standing there.  He was dressed kind of messy and looked dirty. I figured he was one of the dock guys. He was wearing a stocking cap pulled down and the one thing I remember most were his awful looking sneakers! For some reason I found myself staring at him as he stood talking to someone. I saw a light around him, I guess you would call that his aura. I don’t even think he noticed me. I was frozen. I’ve never had anything like that ever happen to me. I remember asking his boss who he was. The boss told me “That’s Tom, the new guy.  Stay away from him, he’s trouble. He’s a recovering alcoholic." A WHAT? Recovering alcoholic? I’ve never heard of such a thing. I had no idea those even existed. That means they stopped drinking. How interesting.

I had to know this man. I would occasionally run into him outside for smoke breaks. We would sit on the stairs and talk about everything. I couldn’t let him know a part of me was fascinated with his “recovery." After all he didn’t know that I knew. I left to work for another company but we kept in touch. I remember the day he showed up at my new office and showed me his 6 month coin. He then shared his story with me about his past, his life and his future. I found myself falling in love with this man deep in my heart. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that this was God's way of putting him in my life. 

 We started having lunch dates, then after-work dates, then he moved in with us. At the time he was living at the YMCA. I couldn’t bear the thought and had to "save" him. I gave him an instant family and home. After two years we were married and sure to be the new “Cleavers”.

Over time I would notice him getting short tempered. I chalked it up to his Irish blood and went on with life. Eventually he met some of my co-workers. They were a younger bunch that liked to party and smoke the maryjane - everyday. Well, Tom thought that would help calm him down. I was all for it.  After all, he wasn’t drinking, right?  

I saw a new, calm man and was very happy with the results. I had no problem getting it for him since I had the hook ups. Then he started doing it every day. He was putting me in very uncomfortable situations. If my connections were dry, he would get very upset with me. I felt like I failed him. There were times we would drive 40 miles to a friends house to "score." Looking back, what was I thinking? I guess I’m what you call a "people pleaser."  I wanted my man to be happy, while making myself miserable. I found him taking other drugs. In my mind that was okay, he wasn’t drinking and booze was the monster I was most afraid of.

Eventually we had a house built and were the perfect couple living the American dream. I will never forget the day I came home from work and we were running out for a few grocery items. We were driving in the car and I thought I smelled booze. That’s one of those nasty things you don’t forget. I tried to make conversation with him but he would only nod and face the window when speaking to me. I must be crazy, there’s no way he would drink! He was a recovering alcoholic. They can’t drink, right? I dismissed it and didn’t say a word to him. The following day I came home from work and there was a six pack of beer on the table. I couldn’t understand. He said it wasn’t a problem to drink a few, that he would stop when he was done. I thought it was no big deal. Well, six turned into twelve, twelve turned into twenty-four. When that stopped working the hard liquor was next. When that wasn’t enough the pills and who knows what else was required. I found myself right back in the nightmare I was in from the beginning.

What the heck is wrong with me that I’m driving these men to drink? Maybe I work too much. Maybe my kids are driving him crazy. Soon I found myself watching him drink himself into oblivion every night. I would get up to check on him and usually find him laying on the floor somewhere (bathroom, dining room, kitchen). I would always make sure he was still breathing, mumble a few choice words under my breath and return to bed, angry. Very angry. On the few nights he would make it up to bed, I usually didn’t know until  morning when I would wake up soaking wet in his piss. Yeah, I’d say that’s a bad start to anyone's day.

I lived like that for a long time. Every night he was the meanest person on earth ridiculing me and the kids. He would throw my innermost secrets in my face. He would remind me on a daily basis that I was a complete failure as a wife and mother. I would wake up every morning very hurt. I started blaming myself until I started blaming him. Then it was all out warfare. I tried escaping and moving back to Mom’s. That was the day he tried to kill himself. I remember sitting in my mother's kitchen and talking to him on the phone thinking he’ll never go through with it. I was trying to be compassionate but all of my feelings were turning black. I was pissed that he would mess up the house. I was even more pissed that he didn’t have any life insurance, leaving me with nothing. In the back of my mind I thought that it would probably be the best thing for both of us.

Well, he called me the next morning. It wasn’t successful as I had planned.  He promised me the drinking was over. You see, if I had a dime for every time he said that to me, I wouldn’t have needed to think about life insurance because I would have been a millionaire. I ended up going back to him. It was like that move Groundhog Day where nothing changed. I was determined to find a reason to end this marriage. So I did what every good wife does and checked the Internet history. Bingo! I got you this time! Porn, really? Singles and dating sites, are you kidding me? Sending nasty messages to other women when you won’t even look at the one you’re sleeping next to? O.K, I’m done now! I can handle everything but cheating. He thought it was harmless. I saw the Internet trash as cheating. I was mentally exhausted and empty. I had to get out of there or go crazy with him. 

I started house hunting. I’m not sure how my husband found out (perhaps the Internet history) but he confronted me on it. We actually sat down and talked, like "big people" about what was going on. I told him I would no longer live like this and something to the effect that he was pathetic! Seems that out of all the things I had called him “pathetic” struck a nerve.

He started going back to recovery meetings and introduced me to some other spouses of alcoholics. Not only were the wives there, but there was a man too. I didn’t get it. Aren’t alcoholics only men? I was thrown into a world of people that had actually lived like me and thought like me. You mean this wasn’t a big secret we just lived with? I made a comment in a meeting about growing up in an Italian family. We’re born, baptized and immediately fitted with a set of blinders. We don’t talk about what goes on in our family with other people. After all, what will the neighbors think?

    

I can honestly tell you that this meeting was one of the best things that ever happened to me. These people loved their spouses so much that they were going to get “treated” for a problem that wasn’t even theirs? I don’t have a drinking problem. I don’t belong here and I certainly can’t talk about what goes on in my house. It only took a few turns around the table before I lost it.  They really did live and think like me. I’m not weak because I love this man and want him back. I’m human and I feel and I love. I can be weak. It’s okay to cry and share with other people. I’m not the only one in this situation. My problem was, I just didn’t know. I learned that alcoholism is a disease that cannot just be turned off because I want it to. I learned that my husband has to “want” to stop. It’s all up to him, NOT ME. 

 I learned that I need to pray. I need to thank God everyday for putting our family back together, for giving us strength to get through it together and for giving my husband the desire to quit drinking. I pray that we will never have to go through the misery and pain that alcohol has caused in our lives. I pray that my children saw and learned what addiction does to a family. I sometimes wonder why we had to go through that horrible chapter in our lives but then I would be questioning God. Our pastor once said "God never gives us more than we can handle."  Well, HE must think very highly of us. After all, God is the one that chose for me to see Tom's aura that day. I suppose we did it just the way HE planned. I hope HE’s pleased.

Today I look at my husband as a man. He's a man that I’m proud of and that I love being married to. I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t want to give the impression that every day is roses and daisies but at least we can get through them together. To quote my husband “Every day is a gift." Thanks for letting me share.

Love

Squeaky

Life with a Drunk or Addict Makes You Feel Like Damaged Goods!

I have spent a lot of time sharing stories about my experiences with the destruction that I created while drinking and using. I grew up in an environment where alcohol was always in the picture so I see things from both perspectives. I have only briefly touched on my wife's feelings trying to deal with my self-destruction and the personal hell that loved ones go through living with addicted people. Yesterday I learned a lot more about her turmoil and frustrations that I was responsible for creating. Two incidents that occurred during the day gave me a direct line into what she was thinking and how she felt during my "lost moments." She has also promised to write a blog aimed directly at those who suffer along with the active user.

I spent my tender years with 3 heavy drinkers. Whether they were alcoholic is not for me to determine. That condition has to be determined by the user themselves. I do remember that I felt like I was always dealing with multiple personalities. I was never sure what "mood" the drinkers in my life would be in and had to be ready to morph into whatever character would upset them the least. I spent my time walking on egg shells and felt deep dread when I stood at the door wondering which personality would be waiting on the other side.

For some strange cosmic reason people who grow up around substance abuse, or over use, are attracted to friends and lovers who suffer from the same conditions. You would think that we would run away from people like me. Before I became an active alcoholic and addict I knew that I was drawn to troubled people. I felt as though I could save them. I felt helpless around my loved ones who "relaxed" too much. So I made it my personal goal to find someone I could "fix." I wanted to save every man, woman, child, dog and a few cats from having to deal with people like the one I became. I inevitably found myself with people who were emotionally unavailable and treated me like crap. Feeling like crap was normal to me and somewhere along the line I concluded that this is what I deserved.

 I was also drawn to the seemingly healthy minded so that I could seek out their flaws and exploit them through criticism and hurtful words. The thought of someone living in a well-adjusted, healthy world was impossible for me to grasp. They had to be faking it. I took the time to find something wrong and point out where the defects were. It made me feel somehow vindicated to tear down people to my level of pain. Even if I had to manufacture it. I sought out healthy people because I was jealous of their well adjusted behavior and felt the need to show them what "real life" was like, that dysfunction was the norm and the apparently well-adjusted were hiding something.

Yesterday Squeaky and I went to a recovery meeting that focuses on relationships. The people who attend are couples that have one person with addiction issues and their significant other. There are also husbands and wives of alcoholics and addicts who were enablers or caught in the cross hairs of the wrath an addict spews at the innocent while they're under the influence. It is the bringing together of the perpetrators and the victims to discuss recovery. Those who love us addicts and alcoholics need and have their own place to heal and vent and get well. I am glad they have these places.

I was a blackout drinker and don't remember many of the things I said or did under the influence. My wife has it worse because she remembers it all. The unreachability, indifference, anguish, helplessness and insecurity of living with an active user creates severe damage to the spectators who have to sit and watch their loved one self-destruct and possibly take them down with them. My wife and some other spouses of alcoholic addicts spoke up about their feelings and accounts of life with an addict. It really opened my eyes. Later in the evening my eyes were opened even more.

I had never considered many of the daily experiences and work that goes into living with an active addict. As a proud Italian, my wife was standing by her man. While I was unraveling she was following behind me rolling up the string of damage I was creating. She was the actor, not me. She had to put her game face on when I didn't show up for family functions or concoct stories to cover for the fact that I was home in bed with yet another brutal hangover. Anger and the discomfort of wondering"What would the the neighbors think?" or "What am I gonna tell Ma this week?" were always facing her. There was the reassurance to the kids that everything would be alright. It was a grand charade that required constant attention, planning, lies, stories and cover-ups on a colossal stage.

She made the comment of feeling like "damaged goods." Her remark hit me like a right hook. While I was going crazy the dedication to our marriage was a constant burden and made her begin to feel as if she was going crazy too. She felt like something was wrong with her, realizing she found herself in a second relationship where alcohol issues were prominent. When I stopped drinking a whole new set of emotional landmines went off around her.

How could a bunch of drunks and junkies keep me sober and she couldn't? There was resentment that I spent so much time with people in recovery after leaving her feeling abandoned for so long. What had she done wrong? The answer is nothing. Addicted people need the help of those who are recovering from addiction. The spouses of the addict need to spend their time with other spouses of addicts. They are both vital to the recovery of the family. If you are an addict and you say you're not hurting anyone but yourself, you're not fooling anybody but yourself. My sickness made everyone sick. My recovery is helping every one recover.

I have recounted times when I wet the bed after drinking too much. My wife endured every painful moment of those disturbing incidents. Trapped in my addiction I was able to justify it and just fixed it by scrubbing the bed. I never realized that our bed wasn't covered with fancy pillows and comforters for a reason. There was. My wife didn't want me to ruin such beautiful things with my late night loss of bladder control.

On the anniversary of my 6th month of sobriety my wife was going to let me buy a drum set, a passion I had in high school. She was glad to have her husband back and eager for me to find new habits to replace the old ones. On the way to the drum store we passed a mattress shop. My selfish side left me at just the right moment and God steered me to the mattresses, not the drums. She picked out the bed she wanted. I could see the happiness in her eyes and relief that the old mattress could be erased from our lives forever. We got our new mattress and today it has pretty pillows and comforters. It is amazing that since I have stopped drinking my bladder control problems have disappeared. It must be the new bed.

A few weeks ago we got our fourth dog. Her name is Fiona Apple Schmutzy Connolly. She is a puppy and full of life. That is a nice way of saying she is a typical puppy and out of her mind. We have been allowing her to sleep on the bed with us and Gracie, our other Pekingese-Chin dog. We enjoy having them up there with us and it keeps "The Schmutz" out of trouble while we sleep. We had settled into bed with our canine companions and I went down stairs for something to drink.

My wife gets mad but usually not loud. As I sipped some Kool-Aid I heard some very bad words coming from upstairs and a teeth gritted command for Fiona to flee the area for her own safety and well being. I flew up the stairs and found Fiona, head down, knowing she had done something wrong and my wife bundling up the pretty bedding. Right between our two pillows was a wet spot. Schmutzy had peed the bed. I yelled at the puppy and took her outside. We do not believe in corporal punishment for our kids or animals. My tone let Fiona know she had made the pack leaders very unhappy. I am the Irish "Dog Whisperer."

At that instant I felt what my wife had felt so many times after dealing with me when I was doing the Fiona-act. She felt angry, violated, inconvenienced and pissed that her beautiful bed had been soiled. I quietly helped unmake and remake our bed and comforted my wife. I expressed to her that I now knew what it must have felt like dealing with that from a grown man. I told her I would do the laundry in the morning and relax. She put her head back down on her pillow and I stroked her hair. She really likes that. Today the sheets are clean and Fiona seems to have learned a lesson, but then again she is a puppy.

What I learned is that all the lying, manipulating, controlling and covering that I did when using, planning on using, or recovering from using is not exclusive to the drunk or addict. Our loved ones have their own hell to face and games to play. I am grateful that my wife didn't leave me. I see her strength and it makes me love her more. I know the I'm sorry's I spit out like sunflower seed shells while drunk won't cut it anymore. I show my sorrow by being a good husband, friend and father daily to the best of my ability. I won't do it perfectly but I will try my best. I drank for 20 years. I won't fix everything I broke in 2 years. It is a daily repair job, like staying sober a day at a time.

For those of you who suffer with an addict or alcoholic, thanks for all you do and endure. We don't mean to hurt you and the sickness of addiction doesn't afford us the ability to see the destruction we leave in our wake. There are lots of support groups out there. Find one for yourself and your sanity. I am not telling you to stay with or leave a person who is in the grips of addiction. That is a difficult decision each person must face. The one thing I want all spouses, loved ones and friends to know about addiction is that it's NOT YOUR FAULT WE ARE DRUNKS OR ADDICTS! Understanding that is your first step to recovering you.