Go ahead and scream

I’ve joined a couple of new FaceBook Groups… well… they are new to me. They are all people who are dealing with living with a practicing alcoholic. Practicing. Now there’s a word for you. Like they need any practice. Most of them have the role of alcoholic down pat and really need no practice. Moving on…

What the group members post is heartbreaking. When I read them, I want to cry for them. I’d like to reach through the internet and hug them so tight that their eyes bulge out. I know what they are going through. I’ve been where they are. What they write should not be shocking to me, but I have been blessed with a brief intermission from the memories of the days when Riley was “practicing.” Reading their posts brings back everything and leaves me with a feeling of gratitude.  I say it is a brief intermission because I can be drawn back to those days and re-live them as though Riley were still alive and putting our family through hell. I’ve been told that it’s a form of PTSD.

The things that I want to say to these post authors, who are pouring out their pain into cyberspace, is that old saying “this too shall pass.” It may seem that it will take forever to enter that tunnel of hell and emerge on the side with the brighter sunlight. But… it will happen… eventually. The sunlight won’t wash away all the residual hurt and anger that living with an alcoholic can infuse into a person’s brain, but the warmth of the new sun can take away the cold edge of despair.

There are things that can be done in the present while waiting for that sunshine. One woman said she wanted to scream because she was so frustrated with the situation. I see nothing wrong with screaming as loud and for as long as it takes to release all that negative energy. Of course, you don’t want to do it on the balcony of your high-rise apartment building or where your neighbors will feel obliged to call 911. So take yourself out to some secluded place with lots of trees and nature and then let loose. SCREAM. Yell out all the things you want to say to everyone who has stepped on your last nerve. Cry. Stomp your feet. Kick a rock. When you’re done sit in the quiet and resume your composure. Gather together your tolerant, loving self and head back to that tunnel of hell. The break will renew your ability to carry on.

Recently I enjoyed listening to a hypno-therapist talk about affirmations. I never really thought much about such methods of survival, but now I’m a firm believer in the power of positive thinking. Oh… I’ve always been able to see my glass as half-full even when it was near empty. But this is different. I was so impressed with her method, that I invited her to speak at my November workshop in Williamsburg, VA. She has not yet confirmed, but has told me that she would help me find someone suitable if she should not be able to make it. I’m very excited to offer this to my attendees. It’s a bit outside the box and I’m all for anything that helps me and my followers get through the bad times.

In my opinion, if you allow yourself to give in to your urges to let out your anger and follow it up with positive affirmations, that the combination can create a more peaceful existence even if there is chaos going on all around you.

Another way of dealing with the alcoholic’s ridiculous antics is to find the humor on what is going on. Let’s face it, most alcoholics have a lopsided view of life. Even though they may be in the midst of slinging insults and criticism, the reality is that they have no idea of what really is and isn’t. So whenever possible, and it isn’t ALWAYS possible, remember that all those things are a script from a comedy show. It’s not real. It’s not factual. Oh my goodness… wouldn’t it be great if they could get paid for that material for use in some kind of entertainment venture? You wouldn’t have to buy a ticket to the program because you’ve already heard the content. So on the positive side, you’re lucky because you have the choice to enjoy the show (or not) whether you buy a ticket or not. Maybe after an evening of venom tossing, you could write a review of the alcoholic’s performance as though you were an uninvolved third party. Now that might be interesting.