Tag: family pain

Gather Up the Pieces

Alcoholism, Marriage By Barbara 5 Comments

Gather Up the Pieces

In a place that’s far away from everything and also at the center of the universe, a shaft of light streams through the pines and maples overhead. The maple leaves are finally turning, starting at the tips furthest from the stems, glowing autumn fire bleeding into still summer green. The beam spills through to the forest floor, where a woman stands in the ferns and the moss. She is gazing up, arms outstretched, a silhouette against brindle light and shade, her shadow long in the morning sun, her faithful dog (her other shadow) at her feet.

 

The smile on her face is visible.

 

The woman has been here before, has been in this very spot before, but it’s the first time she’s been whole here.

The Shameful Truth of an Alcoholic Fatherhood

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Parenting, Sobriety By Matt Salis No Comments

The Shameful Truth of an Alcoholic Fatherhood

I was shocked when he said it. Not only did he admit to letting his drinking get in the way of spending time with his children, but even when he was actively engaged with his kids, he didn’t enjoy it. He wanted to be somewhere else. The connection with his own flesh and blood was empty for him.

 

For a proud father, that was a bold and vulnerable admission. I know a thing or two about vulnerability. I have written and spoken publicly about some of my most despicable behavior. But I have never admitted to hating spending time with my children.

 

Until now.

The Key

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Marriage By Barbara 2 Comments

The Key

At quarter past nine last Saturday night, there was a knock on my front door.

 

There’s a vanishingly short list of people who could call me after 8 p.m. any day of the week and not get my voicemail, whether I’m there or not (I probably am), whether I’m busy or not (I’m probably not). I’m a by-appointment-only sort of introvert.

 

But an unannounced physical being summoning me to my door, in the flesh, with midnight less than three hours away… my God, what fresh hell was this?

Escape

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Marriage, Recovery By Barbara No Comments

Escape

I was seventeen, back in that long ago when you could stand with your whole family at the terminal gate as you waited to board your flight. So there the four of us were, shifting uncomfortably on our feet, staying together until the last available moment. A group of Canadians walked by, speaking their specialized version of French. Breakfast, eaten with an unfamiliar dread in the metallic airport café mere minutes before, lurched dangerously in my stomach.

 

I looked at Dad in despair. “I can’t understand a word they’re saying.”

 

He looked back at me, and a flash of acute empathy briefly fractured his stoic Downeast faҫade. “You’ll do fine,” he said, quickly collecting himself.

Schism

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Marriage By Barbara 4 Comments

Schism

“I’m gonna buy a gun.”

 

There were few worse sentences John could have slurred into the phone, his voice broken down into bits and pinging across six hundred miles worth of cell towers before reassembling itself in my horrified ear.

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

There were few sure things in that moment, with the physical miles separating us suddenly the shortest distance between us, but that was one thing. My previously calm Maine evening had been taken hostage by unbidden images of piles of unfortunate, unsuspecting, and quite dead delivery people at our doorstep, not to mention the thought of my own bespattered demise on attempting to rouse him from a signature catatonic state at just the wrong time.

 

He absolutely was not going to bring a gun into our house.

The Naked Truth about what Sheri Likes

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Intimacy, Marriage, Recovery By Matt Salis No Comments

The Naked Truth about what Sheri Likes

I was naked before the hotel-room door closed behind me. I love the rare occasions when we are behind the locked door of a hotel room – just me and my wife, Sheri. No kids. No neighbors. No one who hasn’t seen me naked more times than she’d like. I threw back the shades and walked straight onto the balcony. Our room was one of the few with a solid, three-foot-tall, concrete and plaster railing, rather than the metal slats with three-inch gaps leaving nothing to the imagination of anyone peering up from the pool or hot tub below. “We could have sex out here, and no one would know,” I thought, but was smart enough to not say out loud. I’ve come a long way in my sobriety, and the associated adolescent immaturity shedding.

Alone in the Crowd

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Family, Marriage, Recovery By Matt Salis 1 Comment

Alone in the Crowd

If you think reading about the impact of alcohol and recovery is therapeutic, you should try writing about it.

 

If you are battling a compulsion to drink, or if you are the loved one of a heavy drinker, you are probably protecting a closely guarded secret. It is the kind of secret that will eat you up from the inside while the poison does mental and biological damage to you, the drinker or second-hand drinker. The erosion of self-esteem, relationships and capacity to manage are all universalisms, yet we protect our secrets like we are somehow unique in a nation with over 15 million alcoholics.

 

And we protect our secrets because we can’t find a safe place to let them out.

Alcoholic Denial

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Marriage By Matt Salis 2 Comments

Alcoholic Denial

If you’ve been lied to by an alcoholic, don’t take it personally. Denial is the cornerstone of the disease. And believe me, no one is getting lied to by an alcoholic more than the alcoholic himself. We don’t want to do it. It is not in our DNA. It is not a sign of spiritual deficiency. It isn’t a choice, either. In fact, when I was in active addiction, and expending massive amounts of energy hiding my predicament, I swore to my wife that I never lied, and that I was the most honest person in her life. And I believed that to my core.

 

Denial is a powerful tool. Sometimes, when we feel trapped and alone – out of options and staring the stark and bitter reality right in the face – denial is all we have left.

 

Sometimes, often really, denial is what keeps us drinking.

5 Times My Husband’s Substance Abuse Counselor Was Wrong (And 1 Time She Was Right)

Alcohol, Alcoholism, Marriage By Barbara 2 Comments

Relapse

When you need help, really need help, you’ll take it wherever you can get it.

 

It had been almost two months since our initial visit with the transplant team, when they’d unexpectedly advised us that a liver transplant was not just the next step, but the only remaining step available. John had subsequently, spectacularly, failed tox screens for both alcohol and pot. And instead of being fast-tracked for the transplant list, so I could be reviewed for donation, the team told us they wouldn’t do anything until he was seeing a substance abuse counselor. Steps vital to survival were suddenly, maddeningly, on hold.

 

He didn’t want to do it, to go to a counselor. He told me, standing there in our kitchen, that it would be easier to just let him die. He’d prefer it.