This week, I’ve undertaken a very personal challenge. Growing up amid alcoholism creates obvious psychological consequences. After the breakdown of my parents’ marriage, my mother encouraged us to see a counsellor. I refused.
In my teens, she encouraged me to go to Al Aateen, the support group for teens living with an addict in the family. Again I refused. Although I was deeply scarred by the abandonment of my father, I preferred to allow my grief to curl around me to the point of strangulation, believing the similar experiences of others could not have an impact on mine. Thinking myself beyond comfort and beyond love, I retreated into isolation.
In my 20s I sought help in dealing with that acute sense of loss and worthlessness, but never in a group setting.
In the spirit of opening myself to new experiences, I’ve been attending Al-Anon meetings for the past several weeks. There, people who are dealing with or have dealt with an addict come to air their experiences and frustrations. They attempt to come to terms with the addiction of their loved ones. Some come simply to seek help as they attempt to keep themselves from perishing inside the atmosphere of terror, guilt and resentment they are trapped in.
Love is not unconditional
Living with an addict has taught me one important lesson: love is not unconditional. Although I loved my father when I was small, my life with him eviscerated that attachment. Love must be mutual. Years of selfish or abusive behaviour from someone makes you feel unlovable. With time and thought, you realise you are not unlovable, rather your abuser simply does not love you. This is a crushing realisation. However, seeking the approval of such a person is not love, but a deep desire for destruction.
Like a seedling trying to find light in the dark, I thrashed and twisted in the direction of my father, endlessly seeking. Over time, what resulted was a colourless, malformed plant, bent double by the force that starved it of nourishment. I could not form a sense of self around the love and values my father imparted, for there were none. So I became a void.
Source: Laura Kennedy, Irish Times, 19/12/14