So, Why Him? Why Love an Alcoholic?

How can you love someone who does that? Who treats you that way? Who spends so much time and money on booze and seems to forget about you?

Well clearly, I'm not the only one, because there's literature about it:

It's easy to love an alcoholic. But at the same time, it's not. I don't view love as a choice, really. You're at the mercy of your feelings. If I could choose not to love, breakups would be much simpler, as I could just toss my feelings aside and discard them like trash. Loving someone is easy because sometimes the choice is not yours. And it's for that very reason that loving someone can be hard. Because sometimes you love someone who does not love you back. Or you love someone who has an illness, and watching them suffer is hard. And that’s just what alcoholism is: an illness.

Understanding that much of what goes on is out of his hands is what prompts me to stay with my alcoholic in my heart. Yes, there are times I call myself stupid for my loyalty and for not giving up. But there are other times that I know I unabashedly and truly love this person, and that that’s okay; being an alcoholic doesn’t make him any less deserving of my love, just as me being a "scratcher" doesn’t make me less deserving of his.

As painful as it is to be with an alcoholic, I must remember that I’m not the one with the illness; any pain I feel is likely felt by him tenfold over the same situation when he’s sober and admits his problem to himself.

So why do I love him? The same reason you love who you love. Can you really explain it?  It's a combination of so many little things that it would take years to tell you why.  His eyes, his smile, his laugh,the softness he shows when he is sober and truly being himself, his concern for my health, the way he cooks gravy, and overall, his heart and who he is when the mask of alcohol and the social facades are gone and he's just his relaxed self.


Why do I allow his behavior? I don’t. I simply understand it and know that it’s not my fault. Or his.

This is not what he wants.

This is out of his control.

He suffers.
I have mixed feelings; knowing that he can't control it is helpful for not feeling too hurt. But knowing he suffers is not pleasant at all.

And these are just a few of the things that I’ve read he suffers:

• "Alcohol suppresses dreams."
  
  Which, if I recall correctly, means his sleep doesn't get deep enough for him to dream. This was an important thing to remember that kept me from feeling too hurt when my alcoholic said "I don't think I love you because I hardly ever have dreams about you".
  
  At the same time, if he's not sleeping deeply enough to dream, I can only imagine the toll on his body.

• "Alcohol interferes with the sleep. It may be used as a sleep aid, however, the sleep is shallow, and the alcoholic will likely wake up several times or have interrupted sleep."
  
  This is true. I've seen him up or gotten texts at 5AM more times than I can count. At the same time, sometimes he sleeps deep enough on alcohol that he doesn't wake up in time to go use the bathroom. Yes, I've woken up in urine. And each time that happens, I look over and see a little boy in a man's body who looks at me with shame and timidly says "I'm sorry. Are you mad? Please don't be mad; I didn't mean to". I've never felt truly mad at him for this because accidents happen and he has always been good about cleaning up after himself. I just view it as another way alcohol interrupts sleep. But I place myself in his shoes. I imagine the frustration of waking up in the middle of the night every night, sometimes to a wet surprise. I imagine the embarrassment and feelings of guilt and shame that must follow. And I feel that those feelings are punishment enough that no one needs to show anger. And I share this out of the simple reality that it's not uncommon for someone with this problem to wet the bed. I'm not making fun. This does not change his worth or intelligence.

• "Alcoholics often have a hard time establishing emotional connections with others."
  
  This one is helpful for deflecting the pain of "I don't feel as strongly for you as I want to feel for someone". Of course he doesn't. I never expect to hear "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I don't think the ability to connect will ever be fully restored in a heavy drinker.
  
  But imagine struggling to connect with others. When I place myself in his shoes, I feel very alone.
• "The age at which a person becomes an alcoholic is the age at which sometimes their emotional maturity is frozen."
  
   I would agree with this. Sometimes I get a big dose of "horny college freshman" from him that slaps me in the face with actions and comments that make me feel like an unappealing, sexual failure. Then I think of how my body looks in my favorite clothes and remember that the problem is his, not mine. I'm only 20; there's no way I've lost all my sex appeal. He's ten years older; he will before I will. And I think he knows that and is trying to relive his college years of partying and acting like a horn-dog before his "glory days" are over. I don't know how much of that is him and how much is the alcohol.
  
  And again, I place myself in his shoes. This one if harder though. Sometimes when I place myself in his shoes, I feel like someone hit the fast-forward button, and that my body is the right age for serious commitment and marriage, but my brain is thinking of childish things like parties and fast cars and screwing around with drugs and strangers. Other times when I place myself in his shoes, I feel disproportionate. Like parts of me are still growing. Like I have adult hands and baby feet- that something doesn't match up and I'm struggling to walk consistently. Only those hands and feet represent his maturity vs the rest of him. Again, this one is complicated.
• "Alcoholics often pick on the faults of others (however small) to subconsciously try to bring that person to their level so they don’t feel as bad for their problem".
  
  
  I recall this any time I'm."scolded" for chewing gum or not knowing how to swim.
  
  But imagine feeling so bad that you have to play a little bit of a bully to loved ones.
  
  Imagine feeling so bad about yourself that you have to pick on another person's flaw of something as silly as the inability to swim.
• "Alcoholics have a fear of commitment."
  
  
  I think of this one any time my brain says "But you guys care about each other, what the hell happened?! A breakup?!" It may not be entirely reliant on fear of commitment, but it's helpful to think that and it helps keep me from playing the blame game. Still, I think about how it would feel to care for someone, and know they love you, but have this inner indecisiveness that hurts the both of you.
• "Alcoholics suffer feelings of severe guilt, even if they don’t show it."
  
  And as much as I hate to see people hurting, when my alcoholic shows me that he feels bad and sheds tears, a part of me feels good because I am reminded that he doesn't like hurting me any more than I like being hurt. It reminds me that he has a problem and helps me calm down and remember that it's nobody's fault. At the same time, I don't want the one I love to hurt. I want him to admit his actions and take responsibility for them, but I don't want him to be weighed down by guilt.

Reading helps. Understanding helps. It doesn’t mean that I don’t lose my patience now and then, but it does mean that in my heart I know that when he hurts me or stumbles on his journey to recovering, I can find peace in remembering that “I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it”.

I’ve provided images of some reading material given to me by my Al Anon group that have helped me feel like I understand my alcoholic better, as well as myself in some ways. I hope anyone reading will find them useful:

Love and compassion are big ones for me, as I have a caring nature. It is innate for me to try and protect, to coddle, to defend. But I’ve also learned that I have to find the balance between showing that love and compassion without failing to let him take responsibility for his actions or failing to make him clean up his own messes. I don’t know how many times I’ve defended his actions to friends and family, covered up for him because I didn’t want people to think I was crazy for loving someone who was not stable. Yes, sometimes I sat there and took it when I should have spoken up, but it was an attempt to show that love and compassion that I knew he needed. It saddens me every time I lose my patience with him, as I know there are things I cannot un-say or undo. And I know that if not for the problem of alcohol, I would never dream I would lash out the way I have sometimes. It truly is a “family” disease. I may not be his family, but sometimes I feel very ill from alcoholism. Because my logic tells me that I should avoid this kind of pain. But my heart tells me that the hurt is worth the person being buried by illness.

I have two sides.

Two opinions.

Two approaches.

One is soft, the other hard.

One is optimistic, the other pessimistic.

In fact, the difference between the two is so drastic that I will illustrate my thought processes.

Half the time, this is what I tell myself:

Dear Very  Optimistic Self,

You know you love him. You know what you want. And if you just hang in there and just be there for him, you will see him recover. He wants this. You know he does. He wants to get better. He loves you, you love him, and you are good for each other. Without the effects of the illnesses in the relationship, everything would very likely be close to perfect. You will heal, he will heal, and when that happens, amazing things will take place. You are strong. You can wait this storm out and come out on the other side with exactly what you want; a healthier version of the man you love- one who is ready and willing to commit. And when that day comes, you know you want to be there to hug him and celebrate that victory. Don’t give up on what your heart wants! You’re a good, sweet girl and you’re worth settling down for.

The other half of the time, this is what I tell myself:

Dear Very Pessimistic Self,

He’s never coming back. He does not love you anymore, and perhaps he never did. He can’t. He’s not well enough to be able to. You’re an idiot for loving someone who has never and can never reflect your feelings. You think you can get through this, but you will only find disappointment as he moves on to another girl and another bottle. And by the time he gets better, he will no longer care for you anyhow. He will change, and you will be insignificant. Other things are more important to him than a girl who puts up with being trampled and thinks she’s being understanding. You’re a fool to think that just because you’re sweet and try your hardest and love him that things will work out. His feelings die every day with every bottle, and you will never be able to soothe him the way alcohol can, no matter how much you want to. You are an unnecessary and undesired element in this equation. He can do without you, but he can’t do without alcohol. This is hopeless. YOU are hopeless. Know your lack of worth in this situation and give up already!

I am a broken butterfly. Half of me wants to soar, and the other half just can't seem to gather the strength to do it consistently. I am a yo-yo being dropped to the ground as soon as I feel "up" and suddenly yanked to redemption at the last minute before I hit. I'm riding the roller-coaster of alcoholism. I'm up and down so much that it balances out and leaves me feeling stuck in the middle of my two selves. I don't want to be the mean, grouchy pessimist...toward myself or my alcoholic. But maybe it just makes me human.

Which side is the devil and which is the angel in this situation, I have no clue. Though most of the time, the pessimistic side feels like the devil side. 

I often debate whether my love is healthy or not, and whether my optimistic self is right or my pessimistic self is right, but regardless, my love for this person stands. And perhaps I will write a follow up post exploring the concept of healthy love.  In the meantime, I cannot help my feelings. I can only offer my kindness and compassion to a man who may never know how much he means to me.

Peace