Friday, May 30, 2014

How to handle these fucking emotions?

I've never known how to handle anger, because I've been told since I was a child that anger wasn't mine to have.  My anger was met with comments like,"Well, you should think about the times you made me angry - those were worse."  "You started it."  "What did you do to start it?"  "Why did you start this?"  "What did you to do antagonize him?"  "Why didn't you just give in?"  And, of course, the ever popular "Good girls don't get angry."

I participate in a program where we discuss how justifiable anger is not ours, we can't afford it.  I've been told my entire life that my anger has never been justified, and yet there it is.  And if anger isn't justifiable...what is it?

"Good girls don't get angry."  I started out writing with one idea in mind, but that phrase has turned me into another direction.  "Good girls don't get angry."

My cousin Evelyn died from complications of alcoholism about 6 months after I started going to AA.  Even though we were only 4 months apart, we weren't exactly close.  We were competing for love from the same people, not realizing that there was more than enough to go around.  Our lives took different paths early, when she married young and became a mother.  I waited to marry, but never had children.

And I was the drunk, let's get that part clear and out in the open.  I've had problems with alcohol from the first drink.  Evelyn?  Not so much.  If someone had been asked "Which one will die of alcoholism, Lisy-Ann or Ebby-Sue?" the answer was certainly not Ebby-Sue.

Because we weren't close, I don't know what happened.  Neither of our marriages lasted, and despite the fact that divorce had become common, it was still considered a personal shame (at least it was to me - I can only assume it was for Evelyn too.)

She remarried and had another baby, Erik.  I don't know her second husband very well, and I know Erik not at all.

I've been told that towards the end of her life, she was very unhappy, and in her unhappiness, she drank a lot.

One thing I've learned is that all alcoholics stop drinking eventually.

As I go through my journey of trying to stay sober, there are so many questions I wish I could ask her.

Were you afraid of a second failed marriage?  Because I am.

Were you afraid of facing the consequences of things said/done while you were drinking?  Because I am.

Were you afraid that even if you got sober, people around you would continue in their habits and - if you objected - tell you that you had no reason to object?  You had no justifiable anger?  Because I am.

Were you afraid that no matter what you did, no matter how you improved, no matter what you did to change things, it wouldn't be enough?  Because I am.

I wish we had been closer.  I wish we had talked.   I wish we had found each other, stumbling in the darkness, feeling lost and alone, and held each other up.

When we were babies, someone took a picture of us sitting on Gramma's sofa.  Evelyn had her arm around me, and her other arm was up, shaking a fist, as if to say "Mess with her, you mess with me."

I wish we had kept that during our lives.