If You Don’t Stop I’m Leaving You
When Dad got fed up with Mom’s drinking, we’d have family meetings. The night before we left for Madison Square Garden, we had one such meeting that began with a huge fight between my parents. It was a fight to top all fights.
Dad had been acting weird all night. He was walking in and out of the house with garbage bags, cleaning out every empty booze bottle, or “dead soldier” as my uncle called them, that he could find. He carried out so many bags that night. I was pretending not to watch (denial) but there were a lot. Mom was looking concerned, a “I know I’m going to get it for this” kind of look. This search went on all night until my sister and I went to bed.
Fights for them were common and frequent. My sister and I often went to bed with them yelling at each other. But this one got violent. I went into Alice’s room when the fighting became louder than usual. Then we heard Mom scream.
“I’m going down there,” Alice said. I followed her downstairs.
Mom was sitting in the middle of the floor, hugging her legs. Dad was standing over her raging.
He went on and on about how much booze he had taken out of her suitcase before they went to Kansas City and Devon because he wanted the trip to go well. “A half a bottle of white rum,” I remember him saying. But that wasn’t the only booze in there. There was a lot more.
He went on and on and on. He was frustrated, blaming her, at the end of his rope, spewing his rage at us while he was telling us what was going on.
“You’ve been a good provider and you’ve never tried to hurt me physically until tonight,” Mom said, still crouching on the floor.
“There you go blaming it all on me; do you think it’s all my fault?” Dad replied defensively.
“I don’t want her to drink anymore either,” I stuttered through my inevitable tears.
“Now, don’t you get involved in this,” Dad said. Hello? You wake me up with your screaming fights but tell me not to get involved? What is that? I didn’t say that, of course.
“Don’t I live in this house? Aren’t I a member of this family? Don’t I matter?” I cried. Wow, for a passive codependent that never expressed herself that was pretty good!
“Of course, you matter,” Dad said, softening his tone.
“I hate it when Mom drinks. I hate it when I come home and she’s drunk.”
I’m sure there was more drama embedded in this scene. However, what I remember happening next is Dad standing there with his coat on, looking at Mom and saying, “If you don’t stop drinking, I’m leaving you. Will you stop drinking?”
She said she would.
We got into a Quaker circle and held hands. “This is a good Quaker tradition,” Dad said. “Are we going to work on this?” He said, or something to that affect. We all agreed we would.
So what did Mom do in response? She stayed up all night and got even more hammered. She was completely blasted by the time I woke up the next morning. She drank AT him, to get even with him, to piss Dad off and she succeeded admirably. She knew he couldn’t do anything about it, it made him angry and she liked that. It was her way of getting back at him. He did not leave her. Just another empty threat and she knew it.
Besides all that, she was really physically addicted. That’s what people do not understand. Alcoholism is a disease. The body gets to a point where it cannot live without the booze. Going too long without booze at this stage leads to sweating, shaking, gagging, vomiting and diarrhea.
This all happened the night before we went to Madison Square Garden where my sister was competing in a horse show.
We had other “family meetings” like this. They were always focused on Mom and her drinking.
There were so many problems with these meetings. I know Dad probably meant them as an intervention. But they all just ended up being a session during which Mom would get shamed, then promise to stop on her own. But she didn’t want to go into rehab. Dad didn’t do anything but sit there and lay blame. I understand he was desperate.
In the end, it felt like there would not have been such a dramatic, painful fight that night before the Madison Square Garden trip if I had just kept my mouth shut and not gotten emotional. Now I know that is not true.
Juliet’s Codependency Patterns at work here were:
I am not conscious of my own moods, I am conscious of your moods.
If you’re happy, I’m happy.
Your moods and actions are my fault.
If you hurt, I hurt; I think I have to fix you.
It’s difficult for me to recognize my moods or articulate them.
I am inclined to diminish, change, or refute my moods.
If you like me, I like me.
If you think I’m good, I think I’m good.
I don’t know what I need, I focus on what you need.
Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong.
I am obsessed with making you happy, with saving you.
My fear of abandonment and fear of rejection determine how I behave.
Please don’t get mad at me, I’ll do or be whatever you say.
Please don’t get mad at me, I’ll feel however you want me to feel.
I think I have to be perfect and so do you. Nothing less will do.
I am less than.
[1] Adapted from the Family of Origin packet materials provided by the Sequoia Recovery Center.
Juliet’s Feelings Patterns that were at work here were:
This is all my fault, I did something wrong.
They are right, I am wrong.
They are going to abandon me.
They are going to reject me.
I don’t deserve good things.
I am less than.
I am ashamed.
I’m bad and now everyone knows it. I’ll be alone forever.
Different from everyone
[1] Ibid.
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