Insanity is many things. To me it feels like a dance. I may try to take the lead in the dance with Insanity, but that is just deluding myself. I never hear the same song and it is always my fault that I am out of step. Insanity leads and I have to make the choice to follow along or sit on the side and watch as Insanity whirls and spins. Such is the way of living with an alcoholic.
Calling the tune.
My mother is an alcoholic. She will deny it to your face, but when one lives on a fixed income and never socializes, yet has a refrigerator full of booze, it leaves little doubt. There are many more indications. I don’t really care to argue the point with you. Those who interact with her on a regular basis readily agree with me.
At one time, we danced in step. She was a phenomenally devoted mother while I was growing up. In hindsight, too devoted. She had no life of her own and my departure for college was the beginning of a downward spiral that continues to this day. It is sad. She was a bright, talented woman who was well liked by all who knew her. She had a way with people and an artistic side that she didn’t get to display often enough.
She is a perfectionist who can never be good enough and cares far too much about what she thinks other people think of her. Her drinking has left her physically and mentally impaired and reduced her to smoking, drinking and obsessing about how the world is conspiring to make her life miserable. To her, I am an active participant in that conspiracy all because I don’t hear the same tune.
I have achieved everything she ever wanted for me. I am educated, happily married and financially stable. But, her lifestyle has rendered her unable to appreciate how her efforts paid off.
Sitting it out
For many years there was a distance between us. She chose not to attend my wedding (she was invited). Other family members stepped in to help her. In their own time, they too learned why I was so distant. There is always a reason for everything that goes wrong in her life and nothing is EVER her fault. She lies incessantly, but doesn’t really think she’s lying.
I understand that alcoholism is a sickness. I understand that she doesn’t necessarily choose the tune, but there are some that choose to seek help for their illness and successfully battle back their demons on a daily basis. The perfectionist in her will never allow her to admit that she has a problem. So she continues to drink and the dance goes on.
I am blessed with a strong support system that fills in most of the gaps. Yet there is a part of me, that still wants a relationship with my mother, the woman who raised me. Logically I know she will never be that woman again, and most of the time I am able to set boundaries so that she can’t hurt me, but every once in a while I get my hopes up.
It has yet to end well.
Now that I have children, they get to bear witness to the dance. Eventually, I want them to understand how the dance works, as alcoholism is prevalent on all sides of the family. For now, they are young enough that the dance is still too complicated to explain. All they know is the disappointment of being invited to dance, only to have to sit on the side while she whirls and spins and blames everyone else for her distorted perspective on life.
And so I go on dancing with insanity. Mostly, I keep my distance and maintain contact on my terms. There are those that don’t understand, but therapy and the support of friends and family have taught me that I am entitled to live my life and that it is okay to protect my happiness. None of that makes it any easier when I don’t hear from her for weeks on end or we make plans that she ultimately scuttles for some fabricated reason.
And so, the beat goes on. I like to drink and have at times enjoyed the numb feeling that accompanies a good buzz. But, I live in fear that I will follow in her footsteps so I take care to insure that in the dance that is my life, I hear the same tune as those closest to me. I wouldn’t wish this dance on anyone.
I am at heart an optimist so, it is my hope that someday we can once again dance in step to the same tune. However, I am also a realist, so I try and prepare myself for the day the dance ends. I have to hope that knowing I did all I could to change her tune will be enough. Somehow, I doubt it.
