Note from Dr. Pysch Mom: Today we have a wonderfully written and honest guest post from Maggie Whiet. She shares how she dealt with her brothers’ alcoholism and the agonizing decision she felt forced to make after years of heartbreak.
Alcoholism. No matter how many times I tried to put up the gates, no matter how many times I tried to build up the walls, no matter how many times I tried to be part of the rescue, alcoholism wins.
It grabs you and throws you down to the ground. And sometimes it does more than that.
First, it gets you to grab a shovel and dig a deep dark hole, and then grabs you and throws you down to the bottom of the very hole that you dug with your very own hands. And this process goes on repeatedly.
Alcoholism is a lifelong formidable opponent.
I have three older brothers and two of them have been in and out of rehabs — in and out of usage and abuse — for four decades now. Both of them should have been dead on a number of occasions.
There are memories that lay quiet and dormant for long stretches of time and then suddenly, sometimes unexpectedly, come flaring back brightly as if they were happening in the here and now:
- Swerving my car off the road, jumping out with the keys in the ignition and the car still running, screaming for my brother as family members sprint through the field into the woods, the woods where he said he was going to kill himself.
- Taking my brother to the hospital and spending the entire night trying to get him to check himself in while Hubby stayed at home with our sleeping children, only for my brother to refuse to be admitted. Eight hours, the entire night of me begging him to sign the damn papers so he could start getting help, but he refused. And the next day, he was airlifted because he went unresponsive with a blood alcohol level of .485, this isn’t a typo. He should not have made it. He should be permanently in one of the holes that he dug.
- Having my home under police surveillance because my brother not only threatened his own life again but also threatened my parents and the rest of us. I realized at that point that I had a much darker side to myself than I ever thought I had. I gave my husband the phone and told him to stay with our child. If a knock came on the door or some other sounds, he was to call the police right away. And I was prepared to do whatever I had to do to protect my family. Had my brother shown up, it could’ve rolled very badly that night.
What’s the opposite of highlights? I guess low lights. The above are just some of the low-lights of how alcoholism has laced its way through my family’s life.
It’s not just my brothers. There have been uncles and aunts, grandfathers, cousins, nieces, and nephews that gained a seat on the addiction train.
Addictions suck. Period. They suck for the people who are addicted, and for the people who love them.
Often very terrible, horrible things happen. And because terrible, horrible things happen tough, painful decisions are made, like having to cut off ties to the big brother that you adored as a little girl — the very big brother who stayed up with me one night during a thunderstorm.
I was crying and scared hiding under my covers. He came and got me, walked me over to his room, and then we sat together side by side at his window and watched the storm together. I will never forget that.
This memory is what made it nearly impossible for me to give in that I couldn’t take my turn at saving him.
I hinged a lot on that one memory. In my brain and heart, he helped me then, now it was my turn to help him now.
The only problem is his thunderstorm was unending. It still rumbles on to this day…or so I am told.
You see, we haven’t been in contact with each other for about a decade now.
It took a long time for me to realize that I didn’t have the magic panache to save him.
Love wasn’t enough to win this. Codependent love didn’t work. Compassionate sisterly love didn’t work. Tough love didn’t work.
In fact, love, the greatest power in the world, actually started to be the greatest hardship of both my brothers’ addiction battles.
Receiving love morphed into one of their triggers to use, maybe from their own feelings of guilt and shame. I don’t know and that part of the story isn’t mine to tell, it’s theirs.
But, I noticed the trigger, so, I stepped to the side partly as a means to try to help and also for the self-preserving reason that I wanted my kids to be free from their uncles’ addictions.
I did not want my kids to have the same front-row seat to addiction that I have had.
Plus, addiction was just too hard to explain to them because they both have autism.
Interestingly enough, their autism helped me see addictions in a different light.
You see, my kiddos came into this world with their disability. They don’t have a light switch on the wall that they can flip to change it. It’s not an option.
But addictions do have an option. I’m not saying it is easy. In fact, I hear how painful and difficult it is and I believe it. But, the fact remains there is still a light switch that can be flipped.
They have an option to change, to get clean, and make that a permanent choice.
Addictions are not a lonely affair.
No, they are a group event leaving wreckage along the way.
When one person in the family is sick, the whole family is sick. That’s how it rolls…and stumbles…and falls…and clangs…and cries.
No matter how a person tries to control it…it will always throw you down…and kick you while you’re there. Addictions are predictable like that.
If you or someone you know is suffering from addiction, there are resources to get help.
The process of recovery is not linear, but the first step to getting better is asking for help. For more information, referrals to local treatment facilities and support groups, and relevant links, visit SAMHSA’s website. If you’d like to join a recovery support group, you can locate the nearest Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous meetings near you. Or you can call SAMHSA’s National Helpline at 1-800-799-7233, which is a free 24/7 confidential information service in both English and Spanish. For TTY, or if you’re unable to speak safely, call 1-800-487-4889.
Dr. Samantha Rodman Whiten, aka Dr. Psych Mom, is a clinical psychologist in private practice and the founder of DrPsychMom. She works with adults and couples in her group practice Best Life Behavioral Health.
This article was originally published at Dr. Psych Mom. Reprinted with permission from the author.