From the Wife of an Alcoholic

I am the spouse of an alcoholic---one who cannot handle the drug Alcohol. From my point of view, this makes me what I would call a ordinary alcoholic because I can handle neither you or the drug of alcohol. Both our lives became entangled in a brew of frustration, fears, and lost hope.

Now, in an effort to recover, I find that we are no different at all, because it's not the presence of the alcohol the lack of it that makes us what we are. It's the feelings! You see--- sometimes I'm afraid of what tomorrow may bring. Or perhaps I am hurt by a situation or someone. Sometimes I have feelings I cannot find words to express. I have hopes and dreams for tomorrow as well as for today.

I have needs, also. I need to be loved and to be shown that I am loved. I need your approval many times--do you not need mine? When I hurt deep inside, I need you to try and understand. Don't be angry with me or impatient, because I have enough trouble handling the hurt without trying to handle your anger and impatience at the same time. Would you not want the same consideration from me when you are suffering from some hurt or frustration? I know you give your fellow alcoholics this consideration because I have watched you do so.

Then comes the state of sobriety. Is sobriety your own private gift? Sobriety is not the lack of drinking to me-- that's just " dry." Sobriety of good quality is more then that. It's being able to be happy amid problems. It's the absence of unnecessary fear and anxiety. It's the presence of love and concern for others as well as from others. Sobriety is a feeling of contentment and well being. Sobriety is recognizing the presence of God not only in ourselves and others but also in the world around us. Can you now see why I need sobriety, too?

You say your sobriety must be maintained " at all costs." You say you want medal, just understanding and support. Do you think that my sobriety is less important then yours? So, I stuck around during your drinking-- do you think I want a medal for that? No! I stuck around because I love you and love does not expect a medal. I only ask to be loved, remembered and understood in return. As my love for you must be patient and understanding, do you think I need less from you? As your recovery needs my support--does not mine need yours? Just who do you think you are? You're not the president of--you're suppose to be my partner. A partnership is a relationship involving two people of equal importance, so don't shove me in the corner. I cannot survive there. As you recognize the pain and suffering to you fellow alcoholics, recognize mine and I will recognize yours, Don't you see that we are really alike? Don't you hurt, cry, laugh, smile, hope, feel angry, frustrations, disappointments, and worry? Don't you need to feel loved and remembered, supported, useful, and cared about by me as well as by others? Well so do I!

All these feelings I have learned to accept that you have, and that you tried to escape from them by using alcohol. Now that you have discovered these things in yourself---take one more step. Look again--are we any different? I ask you---who am I?

Dear Mom

I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said. You told me not to drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead. I really felt proud inside, Mom, the way you said I would. I didn't drink and drive.

Mom, even though the others said I should.I know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you are always right. Now the party is finally ending,Mom, as everyone is driving out of sight. As I got in my car, Mom, I knew I'd get home in one piece. Because of the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet.

I started to drive away, Mom, but as I pulled out onto the road, the other car didn't see me, Mom, and hit me like a load. As I lay there on the pavement, Mom, I can hear the policemen say,The other guy is drunk, Mom, and now I'm the one who will pay.I'm lying here dying, Mom. I'd wish you'd get here soon. How could this happen to me, Mom?

My life just burst like a balloon. There is blood all around me, Mom, and most of it is mine. I heard the medic say, Mom, I'll die in a short time.I just wanted to tell you, Mom, I swear I didn't drink. It was the others, Mom. The others didn't think. He was probably at the same party as I. The only difference is, he drank and I will die.

Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life. I'm feeling sharp pains now. Pains just like a knife. The guy who hit me is walking, Mom, and I don't think it's fair. I'm lying here dying and all he can do is stare.

Tell my brother not to cry, Mom. Tell Daddy to be brave. And when I go to Heaven, Mom, put"Daddy's Girl" on my grave. Someone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive. If only they had told him, Mom, I would still be alive.

My breath is getting shorter, Mom. I'm becoming very scared. Please don't cry for me, Mom.When I needed you, you were always there. I have one last question, Mom, before I say good bye. I didn't drink and drive, so why am I the one to die?

From an Al-Anon Forum written by a mother.

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