Why I'm in Al-anon in Glowing world
- Jan. 4, 2019, 12:08 a.m.
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- Public
I’m here because I’m figuring out how to deal with my family. I grew up always comparing myself to my brother. What terrible thing was he doing now? How could I do the opposite?
I always thought of myself as the good kid. I saved my allowance every month, all my birthday money, and any money from Christmas, and bought something like a stereo or a Papa San chair. I compared myself to my brother, who spent his money on candy every month. I felt smug, because I had something that would last.
In school I tried to get good grades. I tried to be sweet. I tried to be kind. It wasn’t because I was a saint, it was because I wanted to be rewarded for all my good deeds, or at least not punished.
I wanted to stand up in the first meeting and say, “Ok, yes I deserve a bubble bath too, but how do I fix my brother? How do I make my parents have boundaries with him? How do I get them to stop focusing on my brother’s bad behavior and appreciate that I’m doing ok? Because obviously I’m perfect, or I wouldn’t be so worried. That’s how that works, right?”
How did I get here? Why am I here? My brother is addicted to alcohol, my parents are addicted to him, and I am addicted to feeling sad about not being special. I wish my parents were proud of me. I feel like if my parents were proud of me, that would give me permission to be proud of me.
My ways of coping have gotten better. I’m seeing a therapist. Here’s how that works. I was going to therapy because my ex husband neglected me, and I noticed that my boyfriend was also neglecting me, and I wondered what I was doing wrong. Why wasn’t I good enough?
After a few months, my therapist got me to tell her the actual thoughts that I was thinking on a regular basis, and she recommended that I talk to my doctor about antidepressants. I’ve been on them for four months now, and I feel more like myself than I had since I was 16. I’d been clinically depressed that long.
I bought running shoes. I hadn’t run since high school when they made us in PE. My therapist practically dared me to go running after I told her I bought the shoes. As I was on the way out of an appointment one day, she said, “And don’t be afraid to text me sometime this week. Even if it’s just, ‘Hey, I went for a run.’” She has plausible deniability, but she knows that a girl searching for approval can’t resist a dare like that.
So anyway now I’m training for a damn 5K. No one told me to, but I can’t resist texting my parents my workout summaries now and again. I keep wanting to prove to them that this medication is working well for me, maybe they could try therapy, meds, exercise, or telling me that they are proud of me. I did convince them to go to al-anon in their own town. They went before I did. I hope they go again. I know it isn’t my fault if they don’t, and yet. I want to save everybody. If my brother dies, I know it isn’t my fault, but I feel like what I say and do can help impact or influence my parents’ decisions and my brother’s decisions.
I haven’t spoken to Joseph, my brother, about his drinking in a while. He just gets defensive. I know he does it just to feel something different, other than being lonely. So I just try to connect with him. I send him memes, or funny pictures. I tell him I love him. I’m worried that he may have gotten me fancy alcohol for Christmas, and I don’t know how to respond if he does. He works at a place that sells alcohol, and he knows lots of nice kinds.
I just called my mom and she said that Joseph’s Christmas present to me wasn’t alcohol. Sweet.
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