“All I need to know is that he suffers from a disease—alcoholism, the compulsion to drink.” (ODAT, 3 January)
Alcoholism, the compulsion to drink (too much), is really very straightforward.
Al-anonism: less so, in my view. It’s more elusive.
It seems to take so many different forms in me.
There’s the compulsive thinking about the past, the future, and them.
There’s the compulsive thinking about all the things I have to do rather than actually doing them.
There’s the attempt to fix, change, and control things that cannot or should not be fixed, changed, or controlled by me.
There’s the pass-the-parcel of justification (of self) and recrimination (of others) in the place of a quiet look at what I’m really responsible for.
There’s the eliciting of crises in others so I can enjoy the ride—they’re having the spree on my behalf, as I get into the rollercoaster with them.
There’s the dramatisation and the creation of situations to dramatise.
There’s the reproachful insistence of the inevitability of misery, all conveyed through the brave, bitter little smile.
Fortunately, just as the alcoholic’s job is to turn their will life over to God, so is mine, and the same solution does the trick with the alanonic range of problems.