Resumen de reglas prácticas de redacción y estilo

The Thanksgiving I Didn’t Go To Rehab Deep in Denial:

I had been doing better. Not a drop since Labor Day. The family had their hopes up again.

My wife and oldest child were witnesses to my diligent efforts not to drink; to “do better”. They were optimistic about Thanksgiving, but my youngest, away at college, remained the family skeptic.

“How’s Dad doing?” , I heard her ask her mother on the telephone. “Better”, my wife assured her.

“Yeah right”

“No really ….Better… really. Sweetie, please come home. Its going to be a great weekend. You can see your friends. ”

***********

Together, my wife and I decided to go through with the family’s usual Thanksgiving plans. A big dinner was arranged at our house. Family friends were invited. The kids invited their friends too. It was one of our favorite rituals. In years past, before my “problem drinking” had become

an un-welcomed holiday guest, we had enjoyed many Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays that came right off of Hallmark cards. These were the holidays before the glasses and bottles started showing up in odd places and before the phone was off limits to Dad after 8:00p.m. These were holidays now several years past, but still remembered like they were yesterday.

The Thanksgivings of years past were such precious memories that none of us could let them go. Especially me. This year, I was “doing better”. I was trying my best. I knew my footing was dubious, but I also knew I might be spending my last Thanksgiving with the family. Drinking or sober, I inwardly knew I was “toast”. Alcoholism had me in its silent strangle hold and I knew it. My loyal loving wife, a real fighter, had not yet faced the undeniable fact of alcoholism in our lives. I was sincerely trying to be the father and husband my family had once known. She was still trying to hold our lives together, even though I was broken. I was still insanely claiming my persistent efforts would overcome my obsession with alcohol. But, in my soul, I knew wasn’t “winning”.

Cooking the turkey was my job. Probably, it was never as good as I

thought, still the family remained happy to let Dad have his way. The kids were busy with their friends. My wife, a self admitted holiday addict, was busy with the many preparations. I was left alone for the bulk of the day with no responsibility other than cooking a turkey and watching

Thanksgiving football. This day, I was grateful. Newly sober, I believed we were on our way to another wonderful Thanksgiving.

After many years, as you might expect, the family stuffing and the turkey gravy that accompanied the meal had to be just so. It was important to all of us; part of the ritual. Our stuffing recipe was elaborate. It included apples, raisins, pecans, onions and celery all caramelized in butter with a touch of chicken broth and cooking sherry. This concoction was added to the stuffing and puréed in the gravy and I’m telling you it was good…. really good. It was my annual contribution the family festivities. In my alcoholic mind it was, in fact, too good to change. Even under the

circumstances, I told myself this “important” part of the family ritual needn’t change just because I had a “drinking problem” and the same held true of the cocktails we always offered our holiday guests and the light white wine we always served with Thanksgiving dinner. My wife and children agreed with my assessment. This Thanksgiving could, and

should, be just like old times.

I don’t know when I decided to taste the cooking sherry. It was a good while before the best football game started. I know, the bird went in the oven by 10:00 a.m. because both of the turkeys in the house were

thoroughly “cooked” when the guests arrived. I’m not sure when I went to the store to get the replacement bottle of cooking sherry. It had to be before noon because the grocery closed at noon on Thanksgiving. This means I drove after drinking; something I had promised myself I would never do again. I have a vague recollection of stealing one of the bottles of dinner wine, opening it and stowing it away for myself. Since I couldn’t drink at the party, my perfected ritual was to put a bottle away in a secret place to gulp in stolen trips. In short recesses away from the company of my friends and family, alone and literally closeted by my addiction, I would gulp my Thanksgiving dinner from a plastic cup.

As the guests arrived, I know I embarrassed both of my children terribly in front of their friends. I know I made such a travesty of the

Thanksgiving prayer that I was invited in the kitchen for a scolding by my disgusted wife. Shortly after dinner I remember I was sent directly to bed like the ill behaved child I had become. I can still vividly see the saddened faces of our guests as I made my pathetic exit. On this regrettable

Thanksgiving day, I unnecessarily inflicted pain upon my wife and

children. I am intensely aware of the incision I made in the consciousness of my family and friends that day. These are facts of my life that I choose never to forget; valuable memories of the poison alcohol becomes when I drink it.

This is the story of the Thanksgiving I didn’t go to rehab. Still held hostage by four of the greatest enemies of the alcoholic or addict that needs help, I sabotaged yet another holiday for my family and friends. The delusion of “impending wellness” which I was trying to perpetuate was actually the product of a mind filled with denial, rationalization, justification and minimization. I didn’t know how truly defective my thinking was at the time. At the time, giving the holidays a valiant try seemed like the best thing for the family. In the name of trying to recapture the days when my life was manageable , when I was “ a good Dad”, I made yet another bad decision to resist the truth that I was an alcoholic and my life was especially unmanageable in the holidays. As it says in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous , I was really “whistling past the graveyard”.

Given a chance to do it over again, I would get on with it. I would go to rehab for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I would admit personal defeat and get the entire family much needed help. Alcoholics and addicts like me, don’t want to self destruct in the holidays. We don’t want to hurt the people we love. Yet there is an undeniable angst to the holidays for many of us. Sometimes the revelry of the holidays is more than those of us who are willing to become sober, but not yet able to maintain sobriety, can take. With time, usually a good deal of time, most of us can carefully return to some degree of holiday normalcy, but early on, especially if we are still fighting the obsession of alcoholism or drug addiction, the holidays need to be approached with caution. If taken too lightly, the holiday’s can be filled with peril.

J Thomas- 11/19/11

Nancy

My cousin’s father was an alcoholic. From what I’ve been reading on different websites and in books, he’s got the classic symptoms that adult children of alcholics exhibit. I’m in a position right now where I’m afraid

of criticizing him for the simplest things. This is NOT a way to have a relationship with anyone. Other than going to Al-Anon for Families, how else can I deal with him on an adult level? I suspect that he and his wife are both alcoholics themselves. We went out for supper with them in March. There were 7 of us at the table and we ordered two bottles of wine. She drank a bottle and a half herself and left the other half bottle for the rest of us to share. He told us several times that he doesn’t drink and drive. It was like one of the Shakespearean plays – I can’t remember which one – where one of the characters says “me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” It was as if he was trying to convince the rest of us that he doesn’t have a problem with alcohol. When he DOES talk about

drinking, he says it’s only beer, but beer is alcohol too and he never tells you how much beer he drinks in one go.

I can’t avoid dealing with him because my parents still want to deal with him and he’s always there when they’re there. If it wouldn’t be for my parents, I would stay clear of him all together. What do I do about his drinking and his child-like behavior?

arun

As far as my experience goes , for giving up alcholoe addiction you need supportive medication plus desire to quit . I was give anti depressent tabs while I was trying to quit. I used to sleep most of the times for first 10 to 15 days . Thereafter , slowly I sstarted my schedule but without alchohole . I continued antoi depressent tabs for six months or so. Them I gave up the medicines also. I am alchohole free now. God bless you ifyou are trying to give up this addiction. God is great.