Personal Stories

I Put Myself First When I first came to Al‑Anon, I never realized how deeply I was affected by growing up in an alcoholic family. However, attending Al‑Anon meetings slowly but surely taught me how to take care of myself. For a long time, I never put myself first, but in Al‑Anon, I learned that I have choices. I discovered that I can say no, let go of the rope rather than play tug-of-war, and not attend every argument I…

From Worry to Wonder I have been a worrier since childhood, and I had reason to be. My mother developed rheumatoid arthritis at 35 and spent years in a wheelchair. My father drank too much beer and had mood swings that ranged from depression to rage. When I was 12, I somehow decided that if I ever stopped worrying, something terrible would happen. I didn’t know any better. I became the family’s resident worrier. With my mom’s condition, a move…

If I Am Aware, I Am Responsible Years ago, I decided to branch out and find an additional meeting to attend in the town where I lived. There were limited choices in this relatively small community, including a local meeting I attended occasionally. What I experienced was a meeting that had one member who served as both the sole keyholder and the contact with the facility where the meeting was held. Each week, “Jim” unlocked the building, set up the…

An Al-Anon Group Is an Al‑Anon Group—Even Online I wasn’t sure what bothered me about electronic Al‑Anon groups when I first started attending them. They were new and different to me, and with my camera off and a made-up name, I could be completely invisible. I could drop in and out when I felt like it, without considering any disruption I might cause or sharing in the responsibility of serving the group. This made me vaguely uncomfortable, but the convenience…

Courage to Heal I imagined a bandage covering an open wound: the alcoholism of someone else and its effects on my life. I covered it carefully, hiding it from everyone around me because I did not want to reveal its cause. Over time, and with the help of Al‑Anon, I realized that only after I was willing to remove the bandage, look at the wound, and openly discuss it with others who also tended to hide their wounds, would I…

I Didn’t Want to Look at Myself When I look back at my past decisions, I can honestly say that I spent more time trying to fix others than working on myself. I probably did this because I didn’t want to look at my defects. I didn’t know I had any. Maybe it was denial that helped me cope. I deflected. In my childhood, feelings weren’t discussed, and self-reflection wasn’t a part of life. You just “got by.” Mom and…

My Disease Before Al-Anon, I knew little outside of grief. My relationship with the addicted members of my family had transformed from frustration to obsession. Without realizing it, I had built a prison in my mind, where I was convinced that I was trapped and nothing would ever change. My mother, who has been in the program for 30 years, listened to me complain, even as it ate into our time together. Finally, she said, “You sound like an addict.”…

From Quicksand to Peace Many years ago, I heard in a meeting, “You don’t have to go to every fight you’re invited to.” As a visual person, I always pictured a fancy invitation offered to me on a silver platter. Some days, I decline gracefully; other days, I scoop it up and react without thinking. Recently, when I was thinking about and praying for assistance from my Higher Power not to react or respond, a different visual came to mind.…

Letting Go Saved Us Both Years ago, I walked into Al-Anon. I had exhausted all my ideas and energy trying to defeat my husband’s alcoholism, which I considered a weakness of character. I tried to keep it a secret within our four walls. I lost courage when, to my chagrin, he publicly displayed uncontrolled drunken behavior. My daughter, a medical student, mentioned that if I needed help, I could find it in Al-Anon meetings. I hesitated, and the waiting period…

Courage to See the Good Some days, all I notice in my partner are the things that drive me crazy, even though he is sober. My nerves are on edge. It feels like the same tension repeating over and over. How do I interrupt this negative cycle? It’s simple: I “Let It Begin with Me,” even though it feels awkward. I make a conscious effort to see and acknowledge something good in my husband. I look him in the eyes,…