tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6759421079279172044.post7595703926862974993..comments2024-01-01T15:38:28.710-05:00Comments on The Immortal Alcoholic: Surviving the Chaos: Fear ScaleLinda Bartee Doynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01820717772193440848noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6759421079279172044.post-30502663159789883432017-07-18T01:49:57.996-04:002017-07-18T01:49:57.996-04:00I love you, Linda! You are a beautiful and powerfu...I love you, Linda! You are a beautiful and powerful woman.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6759421079279172044.post-69205826458755591562017-07-17T17:38:07.666-04:002017-07-17T17:38:07.666-04:00My fear was my sister would continue to live bed b...My fear was my sister would continue to live bed bound and in denial. Occasionally she knew she was approaching the end. She said during one hospital visit this June, "I can't believe I did this to myself". Then 2 hours say "I'm going to buy a truck with the money Mom left me, I deserve that..." <br /><br />I had a new fear then. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6759421079279172044.post-10419670418781344022017-07-16T11:29:16.848-04:002017-07-16T11:29:16.848-04:00I too suffer from many of these fears. I was neve...I too suffer from many of these fears. I was never a perfectionist in my personal life. I always thought that getting it done, doing it "good enough" was the way to go, instead of driving myself crazy. My husband was an alcoholic, combining Irish drunkenness with German precision. How he maintained those 2 opposing characteristics was a mystery to me. But when he retired and started drinking heavily, everything bothered him. Everything! The dogs, inanimate objects, the way ice cube trays sat in the dish rack, etc. Soooo, everything I did was wrong, wrong, wrong. It really undermined my confidence and made me question everything. As you said, who am I, what do I believe, questioning everything. So all my fears have resurfaced and grew exponentially. It has been 4 years since he died; he could not stand himself and went cold turkey. He too had brain damage, a Frankenstein gait, hallucinations, memory loss, loss of bladder control. He was 56. Retired at 55 after 30+ years as an industrial electrician. So strong. Worked in high voltage. Working on scaffolding in high rise buildings. How many people can do that? How some one can get from point A to point B in so little time is still so incredible and shocking to me. We had no idea what alcohol could do. I naively thought it was just a question of will power. And I was so glad it wasn't drugs. Now I am 4 years older, feel it and look it. Wondering what my future will be. When we went to the beach I used to see older women sitting reading -- alone. Or dining in a restaurant, with a bunch of other older women. I used to feel so lucky, not to be one of them. Now I am. I still feel sorry for myself. We were married 10 years. Me, at the age of 50. We were a great team for so long. He had the energy of a 19 year old boy. I watched him become a shell, a mean, unwashed, angry, confused lunatic. So sad. His death, one would think, set me free. But it didn't. I still mourn for the old life. He used to say in his sober moments, "I want the old Tommy back." And I would say, "so do I." Your Riley wants to die. In so many ways, he is already dead. I wish you well. And none of it is your fault. Remember that.<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6759421079279172044.post-89998047820792785972017-07-15T16:21:55.735-04:002017-07-15T16:21:55.735-04:00FEAR Fear Everthing And Run. FEAR Face Ev...FEAR Fear Everthing And Run. FEAR Face Everything And Recover Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com