Addiction, Again?

Yes, again.  When addiction is a family legacy it rears it’s ugly head every time you turn around.

This time it is one of my nephews.  No news here, in one sense.  I remember an argument my mother began and ended with little help from me about how unfair it was to assume X was an addict.  I countered that at 15, X was hooked on pot and cocaine, his dad was a drunk (“Omigod how can you SAY that?”), and on his mom’s side of the family there was alcoholism.  Now X-wife was saying he was addicted to cocaine.  Sorry, but the likelihood is that if it smells like it acts like it and has a history of it, then probably . . .

Wake-up calls X has had.  Watching his own dad die of esophageal cancer while denying his alcoholism and still asking for a beer, his dying wish.  Processing memories of his dad crawling home from a bar and the neighbors calling X to pick him up, the hurt his dad inflicted when he was drinking, the meanness of lost dreams, or him being unavailable for any kind of relationship with X.  X’s own daughter has told him she doesn’t want X to die like her grandpa; all this was not enough.

Why it is effecting me is that I reconnected with X.   I thought perhaps I might have some sort of relationship with this kid I loved so very much, now a grown man of 48.  However, X is making it clear he doesn’t want to know me, though he said he wanted to have a relationship with me, that he loved me.  X won’t answer phone calls, emails, funny things, etc.  Shit, he won’t even put my name in the “copy to” place in an email about his mom being in the hospital.  I asked.

Why?  I have to speculate, as we have not had any bad words pass between us, and other than discussions we all had at his dad’s deathbed about our family’s propensity toward addiction, I’ve not spoken with X about his drinking.  I think it is because I am sober and worked the program to understand what lays underneath the dis-ease of addiction.  I see it in alcoholic friends, versus my drinking non-alkie friends.  Alkies avoid people who are sober.  Our very presence is a problem for them, a reminder of what they know they are, how they won’t stop, how they are slowly sinking in quicksand. Non-alcoholic friends might ask me once if I am bothered by their drinking.  When they find out I am long sober and not bothered, they relax.

When you are the sober one in a family it doesn’t matter what you say or don’t say, whether you hound them or not, every time they see your face they see you as the one who is judging, the one who has their number, and the one who wants them to stop drinking.  And yes, all that is true to some extent.  I’d have to be crazy NOT to want him to sober up.  I don’t want his daughter to deal with either his untimely death behind a wheel, or his killing someone with his drunk driving (yes, X drives drunk, a lot.)  I don’t want her to be taking time off work and sitting by  his bed in a hospital because he is dying of diabetes or cancer or no liver.  I don’t want her memories of X to be confrontational over his beloved booze.

X is so damn sweet when he is sober; just like his dad.  And he was one of my favorite kids.   Being around him now makes me sad.  I was horrified to see him drink his ass off and drive home from a family gathering (three hour drive.)  His dad didn’t do that until he was in the last stages of drunken behavior.  I thought to discuss it with X when I saw him next alone, but apparently there won’t be a next time.

I am coming to be okay with that as we speak; that final nail-in-the-coffin happened this week.  I no longer have alcohol to shut down my heart; loving someone means that I feel the hurts that accompany loving and losing, and I choose not to drink to cut the pains of loss.

And, I am heading into my last phase of my life, passing through my Saturn return as we speak.  I have had my rounds with addiction.  I’ve dealt with myself, with my family history, with other family members.  I lost my first husband to bulimia, one brother to beer, and countless stepchildren and friends to their drugs and alcohol.  If someone comes to me with questions I am happy to discuss addiction with them.   But I won’t intervene because another family member doesn’t want to lose their relationship with the boozehound, and I won’t justify my decisions to let go or walk away with any family member.   I’m not going to their bedsides anymore when the drugs and alcohol or the control issues have taken them to the brink; I’ve done my stint.  THEY ALL HAVE THE INFORMATION, AND THERE IS SO MUCH INFORMATION AT THE TOUCH OF A KEYBOARD.  It is why I now write about it openly; perhaps it will touch you, or you, or YOU.  If more people were open and direct  it would not be the number one silent killer in the country, responsible for highway deaths and family members being beaten or shot, let alone the obvious diseases.  My loved ones have ALL the information.

My last frigging wish for them, as I let go and turn THEM over to their gods or demons:

I wish they would sober up.
If they choose not to sober up then
I hope they not harm anyone else as they chose to drink or drug themselves to death.
And if they die of this crap disease, let their death be a wake-up call to others.

Finally, let this post help someone else deal with this disease.

W14 7 5 ONE BOOK 300dpi copyBTW, it should read conscience, not conscious.

        

I am now agreeing to the  Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial 4.0 International License, which you can learn more about by visiting the site, or, visit my web page for a more user-friendly summary on my terms.  My images/blog posts can be reposted; please link back to zenkatwrites.  Painted images courtesy of Dkatiepowellart.

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About dkatiepowellart

hollywood baby turned beach gurl turned steel&glass city gurl turned cowgurl turned herb gurl turned green city gurl. . . artist writer photographer. . . cat lover but misses our big dogs, gone to heaven. . . buddhist and interested in the study of spiritual traditions. . . foodie, organic, lover of all things mik, partner in conservation business mpfconservation, consummate blogger, making a dream happen, insomniac who is either reading buddhist teachings or not-so-bloody mysteries or autobio journal thangs early in the morning when i can't sleep
This entry was posted in addiction, autobiography, bodymind, compassion, family, loss, memory, prayer and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Addiction, Again?

  1. Sammy D. says:

    Congratulations, Katie, on making a difficult choice to save yourself over and over – first to control your own addiction and second not to succumb to the addiction in others – either by trying to heal or facilitate or by feeling guilty for what we both know is nothing you can change. We can love them and hurt for them. But our work is on ourselves – each time we come across it, to free ourselves from being sucked into their abyss. It is such an unfortunate illness, but the road to self-destruction can only be changed by the individual on the journey. We aren’t required to be traveling companions.

  2. susanissima says:

    You’re a strong and wise woman, Katie, squarely facing a tremendous challenge each day. Blessings on you as you continue your journey down the sober path, and also on X that he might see his way onto it. ❤ ❤

  3. There’s also another possible explanation for his silence: he doesn’t want to drag you back into the mire of his life. However, that doesn’t fully explain why he won’t copy you on emails—unless he’s afraid to run into you at the hospital. And as full of resolve as you may be right now, and as brave and tough as you sound in this writing, the strings of love will most likely continue to tug on you forever. Best wishes.

    • I don’t think he sees his life as a mire. I know he has some difficulties, but I think he is okay with his life. And I am not shutting the door as in, “Don’t ever contact me.” I’m just letting go, and not contacting, and without my contact, there will be none. Yes, family tugs a bit forever. And I need to put this one behind me. Addiction hurts everyone in its path . . .

  4. Pingback: Walloping Full Moon Saturday | Lunar Moondae

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