Chapter 7: Ernie

Walking through the doors of my first Al-Anon meeting, I was nervous. I resisted going at first, after all, Carrie was the one with the drinking problem, not me.

It was my sister, Kendra, who talked me into attending the meetings. Someone at her workplace was going through a similar situation and said Al-Anon had been enormously helpful.

I thought they would tell me how to fix Carrie. In a way, they did. But the group was about prioritizing self-care to maintain our mental and emotional health. During my first meeting, I heard, over and over, that “in this program, the focus is on you.”

The group was led by a man named, Marshall Tucker. He was in his thirties and was a farmer. I had visited his stand many times at the farmer’s market.

“This meeting is a safe place to share our feelings. We learn that we’re not the only ones whose point of view has been twisted by the strain of living with the effects of someone else’s drinking. We listen to other people’s stories, and learn from their experience.”

I sat at the back, with my arms crossed, and listened to the participants share their stories with openness and searing honesty. A few did resonate with me. At least, I wasn’t the only sucker. Other people were going through the same shitty situation as me. I felt less alone. I was in the right place.

“Many of us develop unhealthy ways of responding to our loved one’s alcoholism. Some of you might think you can ‘save them’,” Marshall said, making air quotes.

Several heads nodded in approval.

“We tried to handle the problem yourselves, rather than turning to professionals. We tried to be understanding or delivered ultimatums that rarely worked,” he went on. “We did anything in your power to get them to stop drinking. The thing is you cannot let or not let the alcoholic drink. If they really want to they will.”

“Some of you make it possible for the drinking to continue —by denying that they have a problem, by making excuses to family and friends about their drinking, by calling in sick to work for them when they are hungover, and so on.”

He made a pause to let his words sink in.

“Alcoholics are good at playing with our minds. They can convince us that their drinking problem is all in our mind, or that we are overreacting.”

“That’s what my wife says all the time,” a man with a big mustache chimed in. ‘Stop nagging me! I don’t drink that much’. Why do they deny they need help?”

“Well, there are many reasons, but the main one is that they don’t like feeling helpless and out of control,” Marshall explained. “Another reason is they don’t believe they have a problem. They will say things like, ‘Oh, that’s just a personality trait’ or ‘Everyone in my family drinks like this’, ‘I can handle it’, ‘I can quit at any time’. We know better.”

Several heads bobbed again.

“What can we do?” asked a guy with a long beard and a big round belly. They had introduced themselves, but I had forgotten their names.

“Setting boundaries is very important for their recovery. I know this because I had to learn how to set healthy boundaries with everyone, including myself. If we want to help them, we must stop enabling our loved ones and stop allowing them to ignore their situation.”

Marshall was right. I had been doing a lot of things to hide Carrie’s problem from others, or help her overcome the consequences of her drinking.

“The most common way we attempt to make them change is the direct approach— ‘You must stop drinking or ... else’.” He looked around and asked, “How many of you tried this tactic?”

I raised my hand. I looked around and most of the hands were up, too.

“The problem with this approach is that we assume they can change their behavior if they wish,” he let out a short laugh. “Most alcoholics will promise you the world while deep inside they continue to deny they are alcoholics. These promises are seldom kept for long.”

A blonde guy raised his hand. “She knows if she drinks, or really gets drunk, I really will split.”

Marshall looked at him. “Really? Listen to yourself. ‘IF she really gets drunk?’ She shouldn’t be drinking at all!”

“The problem with ultimatums,” Marshall kept saying, “is you have to follow through with them. Everyone knows that. Otherwise, you’re a joke.”

The guy nodded slowly, his pale cheeks colored red, and looked down.

“What we need to understand is that alcoholism is an addiction. They are sick and need professional help through support groups like Alcoholics Anonymous, and therapy. That’s the only way out of hell. But they need to seek the help they need because they want it, not because we force them. They must fix themselves, just as we must learn to fix ourselves.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” a big guy blurted out. “It’s my wife who needs to be fixed, not me. I thought you were going to help me fix her.”

“Sorry, Chris, but that’s not why we are here. The focus is on us.”

“A short leash and zero tolerance is what she needs,” he growled, and stormed out of the meeting, slamming the door behind him.

I could relate to his anger, but I could also understand what Marshall said. No one can do anything for you when it’s your mindset that’s trapping you.

Then, it was my turn to talk. Or so I felt. It was a humbling experience. | had to open up in front of all of those strangers and admit that my life was virtually a nightmare rather than the perfect picture that I wanted it to be.

“Welcome,” said Marshall, when I finished.