Pledge to Myself as the Wife of an Alcoholic                    

“I will eat when I am hungry, drink when I am thirsty, and rest when I am tired.”

Today, I will be still and listen to myself. I will drop the fallacy in my thinking that holds me solely responsible for the success or failure of my family. I will release a dream to which I was never entitled in the first place.

Today, I will show up in my marriage as I truly am. I will not force myself to become who I think I need to be in order to save it from being demolished by a disease I didn’t cause, I can’t control, and I can never cure.

Today, I will tend to myself first and give others what I have to spare after that. When I overextend myself, I force myself to run on the noxious fumes of resentment.

Today, I will respectfully and gently protect myself and advocate for my needs. I will acknowledge my wants. I will begin to accept reality by accepting my own inner world. When I am not true to myself, I can only cause confusion.

Today, I will hold my head high, knowing that I have done what I can for my marriage and that my Higher Power has the final say. I will eat when I am hungry, drink when I am thirsty, and rest when I am tired. I will meet my emotions with compassion. I will pursue recovery and abandon despair. I will allow my Higher Power to build me back up so that I can make good decisions.

Today, I will “Let Live,” but I will also remember to “Live” myself.

By Auset H., TexasReprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.  

The Family Situation Can Improve                                   

“I finally understood that my ‘helping’ was hurting him.”

One morning I was riding my bicycle with a group of friends and really enjoying the beautiful day. I have found that little “Aha!” moments sometimes happen unexpectedly when I’m on my bike and my mind is in a peaceful and serene place.

For so long I had felt, as so many do, that I needed to “help” my son get sober. After being in the Al‑Anon program for a few years, working the Steps, Traditions, and Concepts of Service, and trusting my Sponsor, I finally understood that my “helping” was hurting him, and my son needed to get himself sober. He needed to want it. I am so grateful that that miracle has happened!

I shared in meetings that I had nothing to do with my son getting sober, that it was all his doing, which to a very large extent is true. However, on my bike ride that day, it came to me that I had helped—just not in the way I was trying to or thought I should or would.

Here’s how I actually helped: 1) I started getting help for myself; 2) I always let my son know I loved him no matter what; 3) I stopped enabling him like I had been doing; 4) I prayed and still pray for him every day; and 5) I let him make his own decisions and choices even though they might cause me a degree of anxiety.

To accomplish those five things, I had to learn deep down to “Let Go and Let God.” I’m so grateful for the insight that the family situation can improve when I apply the Al‑Anon ideas.

By Sally M., Iowa

Reprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.

Home at Last                        

“I had buried all the painful feelings I experienced growing up in my alcoholic family.”

I’ll never forget my first Al‑Anon meeting. The image is burned into my memory. It was in a large basement room of a church, and about 30 people were in attendance. The room was painted white, and the overhead lights shone down to brighten up the room even more. That color resonated with me; it looked so clean, fresh, and peaceful.

I was nervous about meeting a bunch of strangers, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be identified as one of “them.” I don’t remember anything that was said, but I do remember feeling at home. At last! What a feeling—to feel at home, something I had been waiting for my whole life. I had never felt like I belonged or felt “at home” in my own household while growing up with alcoholic parents. And yet, I knew the feeling immediately once I experienced it. It was a feeling of complete acceptance, acceptance of exactly who I was at that moment.

At that first meeting, and for many meetings afterward, I cried. The first gift I got from Al‑Anon was permission—permission to say no, permission to put myself first, and permission to cry. So, cry I did! I cried at every meeting for two years, releasing the pent-up tears I had not been allowed to shed as a child. I had buried all the painful feelings I experienced growing up in my alcoholic family: shame, fear, confusion, anger, disappointment, and more.

When I learned in Al‑Anon that it was okay to have my feelings, they came pouring out as tears. No one ever asked me to stop or looked at me funny or shifted away from me in their seat. Instead, they let me cry. I am so grateful that the wise and wonderful people in that room knew I needed to unburden myself. And I was amazed that they would support me through those painful early years.

I still cry at meetings from time to time when I am overcome with a personal difficulty or when a newcomer describes their turmoil and I can identify with their pain. The tissue box is always out, and someone always passes it to me. That’s the definition of home to me: a place where I can cry and be supported and accepted for exactly who I am.

By Kate A., Michigan

Reprinted with permission of The Forum, Al-Anon Family Group Headquarters, Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.