I'd be surprised (and would stand corrected) if there was a family who didn't have a member or relative struggling with alcoholism. It's something so universal, so tangible, so real. There are families who are torn apart by it, and there are families who rally around one another and get through it. Mine is a little bit of both. I think I've mentioned to you before that my family as a unit struggles with addiction. All kinds of addiction. And I am no exception. Bulimia is just as serious as being a drug addict, as being an alcoholic or a shopaholic or a Starbucks addict or someone who struggles with gambling. It's just a part of life. We are all broken in some way.
Last year as I approached my breaking point that same friend who coached me through the super hard beginnings of recovery took me to an AA meeting. Alcoholics Anonymous. I thought it was a ridiculous idea. "I am not an alcoholic", I thought to myself. I didn't think I would have anything to gain, anything to learn, anything to contribute. But I was so wrong.
The meeting I attended was held inside a little old church that smelled like...um, a little old church. We sat at a table. Said a prayer type thingy that I mouthed the words to and pretended to know because I was embarrassed and kind of felt left out that I didn't know it. I was uncomfortable and nervous and vowed that I would keep my mouth shut. I can't tell you what we discussed that August afternoon but I can share with you what I learned.
Like I said, at first I didn't know why I was there. My friend told me we were going (and that I didn't have a lot of choice in the matter) because she wanted me to know that everyone struggles, that a lot of people are addicted to things and that a lot of people have family members who are alcoholics. Fair enough. So when I got there I thought I was gonna kick up my feet and take a backseat and get to listen to everyone else's problems.
That's not what happened.
Within minutes of starting my heart started pounding, like when you're in class and you know the answer to the question your teacher is asking and you really don't want to be the one to stick your neck out and answer but you know you'll probably have to. That's how I felt. Some people were crying. Some were fanning themselves with brochures. Everyone was vulnerable. Everyone. Before I knew it I was out on a limb. I was talking. I was talking fast and there was a lump in my throat and I didn't know where my words were taking me or why. All I knew was that I was in a safe place. So I opened up.
And I learned in my time there at AA that I was an addict. I was recovering from bulimia, yes, but there was a deeper addiction that I never saw before. It was the addiction to being needed.
Heather Nova has a song called London Rain that strikes a chord with me whenever I hear it. The second verse starts out by saying this:
When somebody knows you well,
Well there's no comfort like that.
And when somebody needs you,
Well there's no drug like that.
I learned at that AA meeting in August of 2009 that Heather Nova was really onto something there. Being needed is my drug.
Does that even make sense to you?
I realized it a few times over this last year as I put myself aside and started making crazy plans with people because they needed someone to help them pick out a dress or study for an exam or stay up with their newborn for night feedings or babysit for the weekend so they could go on holidays and so on and so forth. And don't get me wrong here. Being a good friend and helping out is a beautiful thing. But I realized after having this epiphany at AA that I was not really doing it to be just plain old nice. I was doing it because I want people to like me, to need me, to depend on me. Is that because I am a girl or is it something I was born with or is it something I learned? I have no idea. But I DO know that I have a tendency to spread myself too thin. Then I start to resent being needed so I shut down. Then people find other ways to get help and I feel rejected and sad. What a pickle...
I'm trying to nip this one in the bud and build a fence around it because I don't want this pattern to be a part of my relationship with Brian. I have seen a few times now how it could be a real problem and it's not pretty. I am learning to trust him and I am learning to be okay with time spent apart, that it doesn't mean he doesn't want me or need me. Whew...that was hard for me to say. It's a tough one.
As always, the learning curve continues and this girl is trying hard to go with the flow.
So while I may not be an alcoholic, I can appreciate a good struggle and I think recovery is one of the most beautiful things about this world and about God. There is so much hope for all of us to be whole and to be functional and to be real and to be broken all at the same time. We're all in this together.
Sometimes when I am wandering the aisles of Michaels or Walmart looking for a crafty little project to work on, I come across a cross-stitch pattern with a prayer. I never gave it much thought. To my surprise, when the AA meeting came to a close that August afternoon everyone held hands and as a group they prayed,
"God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change,
courage to change the things we can,
and wisdom to know the difference."
Well, this seems to be a good time to say a collective "Amen", which means, "So be it".
Amen?
~C~
To learn more about Alcoholics Anonymous click here.
