Two ways out...

Alcoholism is disease that not only destroys the individual but also destroys anyone within peripheral range of the alcoholic. Family and friends desperately try to help the alcoholic understand that life would be so much better if he/she would simply stop drinking.

There are really only two ways out of alcoholism – death or sobriety. Many alcoholics would prefer to drink themselves to death rather than live a sober lifestyle. It is part of the insanity of the disease. The alcoholic toxins that find a home in the frontal lobe of the brain make it nearly impossible for them to make rational or logical decisions.

The only chance for an alcoholic’s survival begins with detoxification of the poisons in the brain and body. Testing to determine the extent of the damage to both brain and body can only be determined when the as much of the toxins as possible have been removed from the alcoholic’s body. Once the alcoholic’s ability to think rationally has returned treatment in a rehab facility becomes more acceptable.

Successful recovery from alcoholism is more likely when the alcoholic attends a long-term residential treatment center. This should include weeks of both group and individual therapy and an introduction to various recovery programs such as, AA or recovery coaching

An important aspect of alcoholism treatment is getting help for the family and friends. It doesn’t matter how good the treatment facility is for the alcoholic, if he/she returns to the same toxic environment, the chance for relapse increases greatly. Rehab centers often offer a program for the family while the alcoholic is a patient. There are also family support groups, such as Al-Anon, that meet regularly. There are also on-line support group, such as OARS Family and Friends Group on FaceBook which allows the opportunity to connect with someone in similar situations on a 24/7 basis.

I offer one-on-one coaching for families & loved ones of alcoholics via video chat or telephone. The charge for a one-hour session is $30 with flexibility as to the one-hour time limit. I am not a licensed therapist, doctor, lawyer or anything else. I offer support, encouragement, suggestions and the opportunity to vent without judgement or criticism.

The state of sobriety

There was a full moon on Wednesday night. I admired how bright and shiny it was with its ability to light up my entire yard. Intellectually I know that the moon only appears white because it is reflecting the light here on earth. Still, I revel in its beauty and can almost feel the magical power emanating from the shine.

I could use some magical power these days. Riley has not been feeling well. Besides not feeling well, he is having a difficult time communicating with the nurse about his pain. Often times he simply says that he just feels yucky in general then will yell out in pain a few minutes later. Ask him where it hurts – his answer is on his entire right side. If I had magic powers I would just wave my wand and be able to see his pain.

Often I will say something to a person about Riley no longer drinking. Everyone oooos and ahhhhs about how his sobriety is wonderful. I’m told that I should at least be grateful for the lack of alcohol. I know they mean well. I smile and nod.

Back in the day, if Riley had quit drinking and was still able to maintain a quality life, I would be

Crazy is as crazy does...

In light of the cancer craziness that is going on -- I thought it might be good to revisit a previous post about Riley's immortality and the craziness of it all. I wonder if I'll be faced with this again.


Just because the alcoholic in your life is sober for the moment, do not assume that everything is back to normal. Be aware. Sobriety doesn’t always equate to normality.

Riley has not had even a sip of anything alcoholic since May 4, 2012 when he had a near fatal heart attack. He’s not supposed to be alive right now. According to numerous doctors, nurses, social workers, etc. he was so close to death during his last hospital stay I was coerced into trying to “get on with my own life.” Believe me, I welcomed the suggestion. But, deep down inside I knew I had been here before and not to completely trust what they were telling me. I went forward, but with guarded trepidation.

I gave away some of his clothing and books. I melded his file folders into mine. I got rid of the old computer monitor that originated in the 80’s. I threw away the very old worn tennis shoes and saved the new ones. His mattress and most of his other bedding, along with his area rug, were sent to the dump because they were so covered in human excrement. It was a step in going forward as I had been advised.

On August 4^th I was told the ones who advised me to assume and prepare for his imminent death had been wrong. The situation had changed and I was to take him home and care for him as best I could under the circumstances. I was given vague instructions as I loaded him into my van. This was to become another segment in my journey through this adventure in the world of insanity.

Almost four months later, Riley is walking without assistance from me, but rather with a walker and, sometimes, a cane. He is able to shower by himself and feed himself. He can wash dishes and clean out the refrigerator (well… sort of…). He takes great pride in going around and making sure all the clocks are set correctly in accordance with the time displayed on the cable network channel. The highlight of his day is making lists – grocery lists, to-do lists, phone call lists, etc. When outsiders are around he can communicate with them logically for about 30 minutes. Most of his stories are never real, but they don’t know that.

I know it doesn’t sound so bad does it – or is it? There is an aspect to all this that most people wouldn’t even notice if they did not live with him. Even his doctors are starting to say that he is competent. He knows the date, the president’s name and can remember a list of numbers for a short period of time. In fact, he may even be capable of living on his own. How I wish that were true.

My day starts every morning with a cup of coffee which is gratefully made by Riley. It is between 4 AM and 5:30 AM. Each day I try to only engage Riley in conversations that I think will not create any conflict. I try to suggest projects for the day within his means of ability. I ask what he wants for dinner. Simple little diatribes to start the day. But, things always seem to take a turn for the worst.

Riley will ask me why I have decided to paint the kitchen in certain colors when those colors were never even mentioned in the plans. He will ask me why I don’t do this or that and I will have to repeat everything concerning the subject over again every morning for numerous mornings in a row. He will ask me when he is getting his computer back and when I tell him he can’t have the computer back – he tells me he’s leaving as soon as he is done with his coffee. I try to reason with him that the computer is off limits because of his being visited by police officials concerning his illegal porn usage. He doesn’t remember it and so believes I’m lying about it ever happening.

A peaceful morning almost invariably turns into a frustrating round of trying to make sense of it all for Riley’s sake. He may be able to remember that string of numbers, but he can’t remember anything about yesterday. He does not believe he ever had a heart attack and thinks I just put him into a nursing home because I was tired of him. He wants me to tell him how many days until he can start drinking again. He wants to know when he can drive. And mostly, he wants to know when I’m going to get out of his life.

Riley has turned into a mean old man. He dislikes the grandchildren’s dog, kids, friends and anything else he relates to them. He becomes angry with me and the world at the drop of a hat. If I don’t share his interest in the latest news story, he claims I’m not concerned about political issues. He must recount to me every episode of every NCIS he has watched that day. If I mention that I’ve seen all of them more than once, he replies that can’t be true because he’d never seem that episode before. In Riley’s mind, I’m a lying, conniving, underhanded, prison warden who revels in making him miserable. He doesn’t hesitate to tell me so every chance he can.

I’ve heard that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Somehow I think that if I just keep explaining things to Riley that eventually he will see that I’m not the bad guy and grow to accept his circumstances. The only person I’m hurting is me. The only really crazy person in the room is me. I know better. But, my instincts are to try to answer his questions with honest answers. Try to give viable explanations without being cruel. I’m reaching the end of my ability to keep going in this manner.

Riley has new projects assigned to him now. I suggest he go for a walk around the block since we now live where there are blocks instead of pastures. I suggest he go with me to the grocery store. I’ve shown him how to use the washer and dryer, although each week we have to repeat the lesson. I don’t dial his brother’s phone number for him anymore. In short, I’m forcing him to try to be more self-reliant. Maybe by doing so, he will eventually REALLY be ready to live on his own with just an occasional visit by a family member to check up on him.

Of course, the minute he is in his own place, he will be drinking alcohol. If he has his car, he will drive drunk. His health will fail rapidly and his days of immortality may be over. This is where my moral compass kicks in. I must get rid of the car before he moves out. And I have to turn a blind eye to whatever he is doing during his downfall. It feels like I’m killing him.

There is no great love lost between us, yet I still feel a responsibility. And then, there is forever the issue of not wanting my daughter to pick him up, dust him off and destroy her life. The question is… by the time she scoops him up to take care of him, will he be so far gone that he will not be too destructive to her sanity. 

The road to...

I recently had major dental work done and have not been feeling is great. I have been lax about getting to the store to do the shopping. It has finally reached the point that we MUST do some shopping or Jax (the cat) and Jade (the dog)  will be bbq-ing us on a spit in the fireplace for their next meal.

Yesterday was the day. I reluctantly handed the car keys to Riley so he could go to the store – alone – unsupervised. It was the first time in almost two years that he had ventured outside the house without my watchful eye.

I was nervous. Images of him entering the package store and downing a bottle in the parking lot were at the forefront of my brain. I found myself  waiting for the phone to ring with a police officer on the other end telling me Riley was either in jail or dead from wrapping the car around a telephone pole. The fear created by those images made me physically ill.

But, before I knew it… there he was. He pulled into the driveway, greeted Jade and Maggie (Jade’s BFF) and then brought the grocery bags into the kitchen. It seemed he had not been gone long enough to have done all the necessary shopping. There must be something up.

I was wrong. Everything I had asked him to get was there. There were no signs of alcohol consumption at all. He was not the nervous little boy that had something to hide. He explained why he had to get a block of Swiss cheese rather than shredded. But I wasn’t listening – not really – I was just basking in the glory that the chore had been completed without incident.

Normally Alea takes me to my dentist appointments because I get very nervous and sometimes I must take something to help calm me down. But she could not take me this time. So… the plan for today is for Riley and me to make the 2 hour drive to the dentist office.  While I’m in the dentist’s chair, Riley will be getting a haircut. Afterwards, we are going to dinner (if I’m feeling up to it) and then drive back home. Riley will be my chauffeur.

My only concern is the time when Riley is supposed to be getting a haircut. There are numerous bars in the area of the dentist office. I’m hoping he doesn’t decide that would be a better use of his time.

I’m encouraged by the shopping event yesterday and feel confident that he can handle this trip.

Of course, I have a back up plan, I just hope I don’t have to use it. After all, feeling confident of his continued sobriety is one of the stepping stones that will pave the way to his drinking again. The more I feel I can trust his sobriety, the more opportunities he will have to drink. And once he starts drinking again… well… I cannot prevent the consequences that may follow. I could be wrong because he is the Immortal Alcoholic and the consequences that should occur just don’t seem to happen.

Anyway… I will take one day at a time and trust him – just for today – that he will not drink.