The tools of Al-Anon

Relearning about alcoholism

“By listening we can learn to distinguish the person from the disease, to have compassion for their efforts and their pain, and to recognize that they, too, are powerless over alcohol.”

-How Al-Anon Works (“Learning More About Alcoholism”)

I am a good sponsor. I will take the time to listen to the women I sponsor, even when it is not convenient, even when they are going on and on about the same thing, even when they don’t seem to even realize I am there on the other end of the phone. And why do I do this? Because my sponsors over the years have always taken the time to listen to me in the same way. They have loved me through all of my pain, disappointment, uncertainty, unbelief, and even in my rebellion. That is what we do: we listen.

God has once again tasked me with learning more about the disease of alcoholism. He has opened my eyes to all of the uncertainties and strangeness that come with loving a person with this disease. For many years, I only had to interact with the alcoholics I sponsored and those in meetings. While this was not always easy, it was more manageable than alcoholism in a love relationship.

I am a person who has been gravely affected by others’ drinking. For me, the earliest alcoholic in my life was my grandfather. His drinking often terrified his grandchildren. There were six of us grandkids at the time and family gatherings with lots of food, smoke, booze, laughter, and cards were always a part of my Saturday nights in that house. The house was in the middle of the country in western Illinois, in Henderson County close to the Mississippi. I was the oldest grandchild. I really loved my grandparents and spent a lot of time with them. My brother and I were often dropped off to stay with them so my young parents could have the weekend to themselves. I have very fond memories of early mornings with Grandpa. Grandpa would be hung over on Sunday mornings and would want his Bloody Mary. I would just drink plain tomato juice and we would watch CBS Sunday morning together.

As the perfect Alanonic, I would forget the terror of the night before. My grandpa would go crazy and grab his rifle and chase around the grandkids. Then the fighting would start, as my parents and aunts and uncles would start yelling at him. They too were fueled by alcohol. And these were my earliest experiences with alcoholism. I did not grow up with alcoholism in any of my childhood homes: not with my mom and dad when they were married, and not with either of them and their new spouses when they divorced. So, at age 25, when I fell in love with my first alcoholic and then manipulated him into choosing me and then into marrying me, I was off to the races. Alcoholics were my first and only choices for relationships.

You see, I am responsible for choosing alcoholics. For so many years I played the victim. I took zero responsibility for choosing the men I did. While it is true that alcoholism was extremely confusing to me and I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, I was definitely making a choice. My sponsor last spring would not put up with my victimhood. Through intensive step work, I finally could see exactly what I was doing. I am powerless over alcohol. I am choosing alcoholics and then I have no idea what is happening. That is just the insanity of the disease.

I had a four-year relationship with an alcoholic in early sobriety. This was the more typical horror of the disease. He could not for the life of him stay sober. He would go to the streets every single time he drank to get drugs. But this was just one face of this disease. More recently I have dated men who are sober. This blindsided me because being a recovering alcoholic myself, I have a certain idea of what sobriety looks like. When my sponsor reminded me that this disease is cunning, baffling, and powerful, I realized that these men were still alcoholic, even though sober. I in fact am still alcoholic, even though I am sober. Because I still feel like an alcoholic, that has never really phased me. But to understand it in another person was baffling—and eye-opening.

I find myself re-learning about the disease of alcoholism. But what has been encouraging is that I am also relearning my Al-Anon tools. For example, I often have expectations of alcoholics, which is just a set-up for major resentment. But then I have the tools of prayer and forgiveness—forgiving him and forgiving myself for not seeing what was really there. I also have the most powerful tool: inventory. I wrote out a resentment inventory last week and shared it with my sponsor. There is so much power in these tools of recovery. God is in the tools.

God has brought me a great deal of awareness about my own attitudes and actions. I am no longer lost in the deep morass of this disease. And the insanity I do endure only lasts for a short time. This is extremely different and gives me a lot of hope.

I believe the greatest tool in Al-Anon is love. Love and mercy. The alcoholics I love are not doing anything to me. In my best moments I have quit taking it personally (QTIP!). Because God is love, I am learning to love as he loves. When I can detach and recognize what I am doing to add to the confusion that is the disease, I am finally able to really freely love the alcoholic wherever he or she is: drinking or sober—actively in my life or not. I can love with open hands. I can recognize that this person is actually suffering, whether they say they are or not. I know how crappy this disease is and how much the ego works to protect itself.

St. Paul put it best. I will finish today with his words from the New King James Bible (my favorite, most poetic translation) from First Corinthians 13:

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely; does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.