Addiction

I've been sitting on this post for a long time because its very personal and strikes to the core of my being. But I think its important and should be discussed.

You do not know the meaning of the word addiction until you have seen what it looks like in the face of a loved one. You do not know the horror that can be visited upon a family when something like alcohol takes over until you have seen it up close and personal.

Growing up my maternal grandparents became alcoholics and for about a decade or more their addiction caused untold heartache and pain among my parents and uncles and aunts. When drunk my grandparents became different people, sometimes overly friendly, other times mean and hateful. My family tried interventions, confrontations, threats, nothing would work. They would get on the wagon for a bit and fall back off.

Part of their problem was that they were both retired and bored. Living in the country, no close friends nearby, it was easy to slip into the booze to make the day go by faster. The farm was paid for, so they had disposable income to drive into town, stop at the LCBO, pick up a mickey, and down it in the afternoon. I remember getting off the bus after school and walking up the long driveway thinking to myself, "Please, please don't be drunk today. And if they are drunk, please, please, PLEASE be asleep!" They never abused me or anything, but when drunk they tended to get very emotional and wanted hugs to make them feel that I loved them. But they frightened me with their slurring voices and angry tones with each other and I hated being around them when they were drunk. I loved them to death when they were sober, but they were different scary people when drunk.

They would hide bottles of booze from the rest of the family. One time I saw where my grandpa hid one of his bottles and I poured it out when he wasn't looking. He was mad at me but I didn't regret it. As a ten year old I came to hate alcohol and the stores that sold it. I fantasized about blowing them all up across Ontario so my grandparent's couldn't get anymore. When I turned 17 my parent's offered me some drink at a party saying that they preferred I started learning how to drink responsibly when they were around. I refused to touch the stuff, still don't to this day. No beer, no liquor, not for me. Fucking stuff ruined a good part of my childhood, no way was I going to give it the satisfaction.

Eventually my grandparents got too old to drive into town very often. Reliant on others for transportation they couldn't make the booze runs whenever they wanted and the torture died down, the family recovered, and the last decade of my grandparent's life was one of happiness and peace.

So, the next time you see a TV show or movie depicting an alcoholic and how they suddenly decide to become sober, symbolically pouring the last of the booze out, let me tell you that life is not like that. Its a pale shadow of the years of pain leading to that moment and that the pouring of the booze is never the first step to recovery. Its the first step toward maybe having a hope of a recovery years down the road. Once you have seen the devil of addiction looking out from the face of someone you love, then you will understand. I hope you never have to experience that moment.