'What is the difference between living with alcoholic and non alcoholic parents?
This is the question that I was asked a few weeks ago when I presented to 300 school pupils on behalf of NACOA, a charity offering free and confidential advice for children of alcohol dependent parents.
I wonder what the question is behind that question:
'How do I know if my parent is an alcoholic?'
That kind of points to the first thing that is common in a family dealing with addiction. The rule of:
Don't talk.
Don't mention the 'elephant in the room'. Of course, such instructions are rarely overtly given. It's often communicated in a glance, in a minimisation of 'don't be silly' or a dismissal of, 'they're not an alcoholic, they're just a heavy drinker', or, 'they're not an alcoholic, they don't drink every day.'
It was tough doing that talk. Tough to see the kids who didn't make eye contact, the one who held their head in their hands at the end of the talk, crossed legs, head bowed, hunched over, desperately feeling 'seen' and desperately trying not to be seen. Holding onto the second unspoken family rule:
Don't trust.
Don't trust your gut. Don't trust the parent with the addiction who doesn't follow through on their promises. Don't trust the other parent who can't bear to say anything for fear of repercussions. Don't trust the teacher who keeps you behind after class to ask if everything is ok. Don't trust yourself to be able to say 'No, everything is not ok' without feeling panic and a sense of betrayal.
Which brings us on to the third rule of:
Don't feel.
Don't feel angry. Don't feel sad. Don't show you feel scared, or confused or hurt. Just be 'fine', just be 'beige'.
Of course, no family is perfect, but in a family with addiction these rules become a stranglehold on the family, slowly depriving it of the oxygen of spontaneity, silliness, go with the flow, being one way one day and another way the next.
Family members end up feeling isolated with the don't talk rule; dysregulated as they internalise the idea of a world that cannot be trusted and medicated on people pleasing, hyper-vigilance and control to numb out the sense of pervasive hopelessness.
Instead of feeling freedom, the family is 'fine and frozen.'
And look at that, no mention of how many units a week, or what type of alcohol is drunk.
The impact of addiction on a family does not stop when the addictive behaviour stops.
It is possible to move beyond this. To feel seen and validated. To feel safe and valued. To feel soothed and vibrant.
In my job as an addictions specialist I often go to conferences and hear about what it is like for the person with the addiction, but the family rarely gets mentioned. And yet, the most vulnerable time for someone in recovery is when they leave treatment and move back to the family.
Uncertainty can swill around:
‘Are we allowed to talk about your addiction?’
‘Will you get triggered if you see and advert on tv?’
‘Shall we get rid of all the booze in the house?’
These are very valid questions.
Addiction brings confusion and isolation, but it doesn’t have to be this way when you find community with those who know what it is like.
That’s why I have set up a couple of ways to help those who are affected by a loved ones addiction. If you are interested in learning more, let me know!