It never occurred to me that the alcoholic might be encouraged to drink to get away from the Al-Anon's constant overbearing surveillance, interference, meddling, prying, spying, snooping, following, stalking, adjusting, tweaking, reprimanding, chastening, punishing, kindness, love, smothering, suffocating, and unrestrained emotions.
In the Harry Potter universe, there is a creature called an 'occamy', which is 'choranaptyxic', a word used in that universe to describe a creature that fills whatever space it's in.
In an untreated state, I, the untreated Al-Anon, am choranaptyxic: I fill whatever space I'm in, using up all the air, spreading myself everywhere, either with nastiness or with niceness, so there's no room for anyone to live, breath, or even exist.
No wonder alcoholics back away and slide through the trap door into the other world where I cannot get them. They just want space. From me.
They’re not abandoning me. They’re running for their lives.
It might be said that addiction is the response to anonism, not vice versa.