Big day

[captain_slinky]

After some 9 hours of intense work, my storage unit is completely in order and cleaned.

Then i came home to find out that my Sister is in the psyche ward because of her alcoholism. She had been sober for almost a year before she started drinking again back in April. Despite the fact that the entire family can tell when she's been drinking (a lifetime of disappointment and embarrassment can heighten those booze-detecting senses), none of us mentioned it because we all thought we were just being paranoid.

I feel stupid for not having seen it. For not having said... said SOMETHING. We took a recovering life-long alcoholic and made her live with the number one reason that she drank (my Mom) and made sure she had plenty of private access to plentiful free booze (my dad makes wine in his shop, which is attached to the garage).

Stupid, stupid, STUPID!!!

I'm sure I've mentioned it before, but my sister is THE REASON I'm such a tea-totaler. I come from a long line of stoners and drunks, but my own experiences with controlled substances is so minimal it's barely worth mentioning. Never any drugs. A grand total of maybe 10 beers and 3 glasses of wine over the course of my adult life. And 2 Menthol Light 100 GPC Cigarettes (which i was told wasn't so much "Smoking" as it was "Breathing minty, whispy air"). Iget physically up-tight when people are drinking around me. The more i care about you, the more freaked-out I get. And it's all because of her. I mean it's really DIRECTLY linked to HER!

Thanks to her recent sobriety, I was getting a little more relaxed around controlled substances. I drank an entire shot of rum in my Slurpee, and even drank half a shot of Tequila! I found myself thinking things like "Y'know, if i ever were to smoke Pot, I'd want it to be with Patton Oswalt". Stuff like that which had never even come CLOSE to being thoughts in my head before now!

And now I can feel myself tightening up again.

But hey! The storage unit is CLEAN!

Comments

[strryeyedgrrl.livejournal.com]

As a former addict, what you're explaining is completely understandable. I find myself tensing up incredibly when in situations where I know there's rampant abuse of white fluffy powders. I'm okay with drinking and pot smoking and even the occasional hit of acid or tab of ecstasy. Fine. I mean, not all of that's for me (anymore), but fine. But the fluffy powders make me ball up my fists and want to hit people and say, "Don't you know what that can do?!"

There's just a difference to understand - that some people can drink responsibly and others can't. That's why it's called a disease. Hell, I knew people that could snort responsibly. Some people get addicted, some don't.

Perhaps some Al-Anon meetings (the ones for friends/family) might be of use? If you find a good one, you can sit in the background and observe. No one will make you talk. I went to AA and a couple NA meetings when I first quit, just so I didn't feel so alone. Ron's parents went to Al-Anon when he was in rehab and I think it helped them to get a better understanding of addiction and how completely uncontrollable it is.

In the end, don't beat yourself up too much. Addicts are good at hiding their problem from others and are even craftier at finding ways to feed their addiction. If it hadn't been at your mom's house, it could've been somewhere far worse with more destructive results.

That said, want to come clean my storage unit? ;)

[strryeyedgrrl.livejournal.com]

And to clarify - I didn't go to AA because I had a drinking problem. I went for the meth problem. There was only one NA meeting in the small town I lived in and I really disliked it. So the next best thing was a very nice AA meeting at the Methodist church.

[lynna12000.livejournal.com]

Hang in there Slinky. You'll manage this with your usual grace and elan. Your sisters' mistakes are NOT your fault, or your responsibility. Hopefully, the hospital will help her find the help she needs.

[teegin.livejournal.com]

Ummmmm, I guess I should have mentioned you better not eat those brownies.