The following articles from the February 2010 issue are reprinted with permission of The Forum,
Al-Anon Family Group Hdqs., Inc., Virginia Beach, VA. For more articles, check The
Forum archive.
In Features (p. 1)
Slogans bring peace to relationship with boyfriend
By Stephanie H., Florida
Why my alcoholic boyfriend did or said something that irritated me, I would usually respond with sarcasm. Now I take a moment and think, "How Important Is It?"
Thinking of that slogan gives me time to think about what I'm going to say or how I'm going to respond. It gives me time to figure out how important something is to my life, in the bigger scheme of things.
Most of the time, I found I had no need to respond. The things that my boyfriend said were often defensive or argumentative. The things he did were often not important in the big scheme of life; they didn't require a response from me.
"Let Go and Let God" was also a powerful too. When my boyfriend said something that hurt me, I would let go of the emotion and let God heal my pain. When he did something that I didn't like, I would let go of the behavior and let God take care of him. In the past, I did not let go, which only served to hurt myself or someone else.
"Let It Begin With Me" has become another one of my favorite slogans, but I had to grow into it. In the beginning I often felt that it would be selfish to "Let It Begin with Me." But I have learned that I am not being selfish. I am taking care of myself--there is a difference.
In Meeting Suggestions (pp. 16-17)
A new relationship brought my old issues back
By Claudia M., Arizona
I am an incest survivor; I met an alcoholic the day I was born.
I replaced him with other alcoholics, as well as gamblers and addicts of every kind. I was single until I was 52. I remember thinking, "I've finally got myself a 'normal' guy!" But the truth was, his life had been affected by someone else's drinking and he hadn't yet found recovery.
I received one key piece of wisdom when I agonized over whether to marry this man I loved: a Sponsor told me not to place all my eggs in my fiance's recovery. Ask the question: "Do I trust my own tools; my own recovery?" And I did. And I do.
I had 12 hard-fought years in Al-Anon, working the Steps over and over, reading, sponsoring, and being sponsored, and participating in service work. But when I got into this relationship, it wasn't enough. I had to be a newcomer again--a frightened, angry newcomer. I've heard that being in a relationship is like pouring fertilizer on all my character defects.
I have lived with fear and anger all my life. I still do, to some extent. But I'm crawling out of it. And it hasn't been only crawling. There has been a lot of dancing in these years of recovery.
My partner's got more than three years in Al-Anon today. He's growing, I'm growing, and it's good. I talk to my Sponsor. It is so important to me to be accountable and to tell the truth to someone. A Sponsor is essential for me because I tend to keep secrets--and secrets are deadly to me.
When I did my last Fourth Step, I looked hard at my life; I talked about all the embarassing stuff--and the shame is gone. Shame drags me down and makes me ill. I try to be very careful to tell my Sponsor all the dirt. My Sponsor knows it all and loves me anyway.
I pray and meditate. I can't sit still so I do a nine-minute meditation each morning: three minutes of writing, three minutes of silence, and three minutes of reporting. It is good, and my Higher Power has often spoken to me in the silece.
I can recover for fun and for free. All I need to do is give back to the newcomers coming in the door with fear and anger in their eyes what was given so freely to me.
In Features (pp. 28-29)
Recovery repairs relationship between father and son
By Michael W., California
I spent most of my life depressed. The only variation was the degree of depression, cycling back and forth between moderate to severe depression. Nothing really ever helped; the medications simply modulated it from severe to tolerable.
When I found Al-Anon, my life changed. I discovere I had needs. Then I slowly learned how to take care of those needs. Most importantly, I learned the meaning of being at peace. It was not an easy lesson: it took working the Steps, finding a Sponsor, and accepting the ongoing process of surrendering to a Higher Power.
I had not had contact withmy family in more than a decade when I found my father. He had been homeless and traveling between rescue missions. He had found A.A.
Our mutual recoveries allowed us to make amends. For the first time in my life, I truly had an opportunity to experience having a father. Our relationship was not perfect. But he wasn't drunk and I could communicate with him, which was vastly different than my childhood experience.
Before he passed away, there was nothing between us that had been left unexpressed. He died knowing I loved him, and I new that he loved me. I am glad I got to know him in a healthier way during the last 15 months of his life. When he died, I was devastated. I felt God had allowed me to find him only to take him away from me. It was too short a time with a father I had never known.
Al-Anon helped me to realize a miracle. My father's death taught me how to experience pain while maintainin a state of serenity. I had finally experienced what I had often heard--and more importantly witnessed--among the "long-timers" in Al-Anon.
I was experiencing a level of serenity that was not dependent upon the outside circumstances, but more on my conscious level of contact with a Higher Power. It was, has been, and continues to be soothing.
Al-Anon taught me how to accept pain over the years; this pain felt appropriate. I had grown to realize that pain was not my enemy; I had often learned valuable lessons from pain. It had always been my resistance to pain that increased my misery more than the pain itself.
To experience my father's death became a gift because I learned how to grieve and accept pain without misery. It was at this time, about eight years ago, that I got off the depression medications completely. Today I do not fight with anyone, or anything--especially my own feelings. I have come to believe that I need all my feelings, even those I do not intentionally invite in.
Today I am grateful for the process of recovery. Thanks to Al-Anon, being at peace has become as natural in my life as depression once was.