The following articles from the June 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 (pp. 8-9)
A
mother sheds her guilt and finds hope in Al-Anon
By Anonymous, Nebraska
I came to Al-Anon because of my son's alcoholism and addiction. He had been arrested and I could no longer ignore what was happening. I was a distaster in every way--spiritually, mentally, and physically. I felt my God had deserted me. How could a loving God let this happen to me? But more importantly, how could He let this happen to this sweet, wonderful child of mine?
I couldn't concentrate on anything. Some days just getting out of bed and brushing my teeth was more than I could handle. I woke up from the nightmare my life had become when I noticed--at work--that I hadn't even brushed my teeth. I realized I couldn't go on this way anymore.
Going to my first Al-Anon meeting was one of the hardest things I have ever done. It felt like an admission of my guilt over how bad a mother I was.
But from my first meeting, I felt a glimmer of hope. People understood how I felt. They had found reasons in their lives to smile and laugh. They didn't judge me. They just kept encouraging me to come back.
They helped me get past my guilt at being a horrible parent. I learned that my son had a disease. I understood that I had done the best I could with the light I had.
I can't imagine what these past years would have been without Al-Anon. Throughout this journey, my son has been homeless, in prison, and in other situations I would never have imagined I could live through. Without my program, I would have continued to be that person who couldn't function enough to brush her teeth.
With Al-Anon, I have survived. I have even come to be happy with the person I am, and appreciate who I am becoming. The way I look at the world has changed. I no longer say that it was my son who brought me to Al-Anon. Now, I say that my son was the opportunity my Higher Power gave me to find Al-Anon. I used to talk about the chaos and crisis in my life. Now, I talk about the opportunities my Higher Power is giving me to grow and become the person I was meant to be.
With the gifts of the program--a new and better understanding of my God, my Sponsor, my Al-Anon friends, the Steps, the literature, and meetings--life is better than I ever thought it could be, even when the people, places, and things in my life haven't changed.
In Features (pp. 14-15)
Getting
past the fear, going to my first Al-Anon meeting
By David J., Quebec
I grew up with six other siblings in a very dysfunctional alcoholic home. My father was the alcoholic; my mother played the classic victim role. I went through most of my life extremely unhappy; a workaholic, angry all the time--and not knowing why.
Twelve years ago, at the age of 46, I attended my first Al-Anon meeting. My life was in the bottom of the trash barrel. I had no job, my second marriage was finished, I was losing my beautiful home on 75 acres of land in the country, and my young daughter announced she wanted to live with me. Being dead did not seem to be such an awful thing to me.
I joined an exercise gym and took lessons from a retired professional boxer, who, as my Higher Power would have it, was in the A.A. program. We became close friends. I soon found out he was raised in a home exactly like mine.
One day he informed me that he liked me, said I was a really nice guy, except for one small problem. He said I was crazier than an outhouse rat. He invited me to go to an Al-Anon meeting with his girlfriend, while he attended his A.A. meeting.
Of course I declined, saying I was never married to a drunk. He gave me a good sales pitch, with me saying "but ... but ..." every chance I could.
During our workout, my friend kept mocking me. He repeated over and over that I was scared to go to a meeting filled with women. He playfully jabbed at my jelly-belly, declaring I was afraid of the opposite sex. Finally, in frustration--and only to shut him up--I said I would go.
So there I was sitting in the back seat of his car, stricken with fear, going to my first Al-Anon meeting. Next I was sitting, frozen, at a large table with about a dozen women. They smiled and made eye contact.
I have no idea what was said at this meeting. When it was my turn to speak, I announced this meeting was not for me, because I was not married to an alcoholic. I merely grew up in a home where dad drank a lot. Keep coming back, I was told; this is the place for you. Yeah, right!
When the meeting was over I was introduced to one of the greatest gifts Al-Anon has to offer--the Al-Anon hug. These are not wimpy hugs. They are full frontal breath-takers instead. I immediately thought not to jump to any rash conclusions. There might be something to this Al-Anon business after all.
The program saved my life. I married the best hugger in the room. My Higher Power was taking care of me, when I finally let Him.
In Features (pp. 20-21)
The
spiritual lesson I learned from a skunk
By Audrey, Saskatchewan
When I first came to Al-Anon, I had little faith. Very slowly, I came to a spiritual awakening and accepted nature as my Higher Power.
I believe every person I meet--in every situation--has a lesson for me. More often than not, I find I need to ask my Higher Power for clarification as to what I am supposed to learn. Eventually, I catch on.
In January of last year, my brother was diagnosed with lung cancer. He died four months later. I had already lost a sister some years before. I struggled to accept the loss of another sibling. What was I supposed to learn from his death? I lost faith and felt sorry for myself. I wondered: why me?
I kept going to Al-Anon meetings and reading the literature. I came to understand: "Why not me?" Why should I be spared the pain of losing someone? Yet I still couldn't figure out how to accept his death or what I was supposed to learn from it.
One day, while I was praying for clarification on the lesson I was supposed to learn, a squirrel got caught in my "catch and release" trap. (We have a squirrel problem at our farm.) As soon as the trap door closed, the squirrel forgot the food that had lured him in.
He scurried around the cage looking for an escape. He chattered and ran back and forth, leaped from wall to wall, hung from the top, sniffed, and bit desperately at the cage wires. He dug at the ground and tried to stick his paws through the mesh. He was literally going nuts.
I drove him to the relocation site and wondered if my Higher Power was trying to tell me that I was acting as nutty as that squirrel.
I went to a meeting and heard that same member say, "If I don't get results from prayer, I ask again." So I went home and asked for absolute and clear understanding of the lesson I was supposed to learn.
I set the trap again and decided to test my Higher Power. If the message was that I was acting nutty, then my Higher Power would simply send another squirrel to be caught in the trap.
Very early the next morning, I was outside and heard the door of the trap click shut. I expected to see a squirrel, but instead there was a skunk in the trap. Okay, the lesson was what? That I stunk? That I only saw things in black and white?
I decided to sit and watch the skunk, and pray for clarity. To my surprise, the skunk did not spray. He walked slowly around the entire inside of the cage, carefully sniffed up as high as we could, then as low as he could.
He slowly and methodically checked out every inch of the trap, then turned back to the bait and proceeded to eat it. He then groomed his paws and face. The, he began reaching through the wires on the cage floor and pulled in grass and roots. he meticulously piled and pushed and formed the grass and roots into a nest. He then reached through the sides of the cage and drew in more grass and roots and added them to his nest. After working for about half and hour, he curled up in a ball, and went to sleep.
Clearly the skunk was making the most of the situation. He accepted his present state of capture.
I finally learned the lesson. I should be like the skunk, not the squirrel. My brother is gone, but I still have other family members and my Al-Anon family. I can make the most of it, get on with life, and do the best I can with the ones left.