Mothers Against Drunk Dialing
OK, here's a "what would you do if you were me" question.
You're a recovering addict. You have 20 years clean. You, your husband, and your 2 children are sound asleep. Your cell phone rings at 3:23 a.m. You jump out of bed, run to the kitchen, grab your purse, dig around for the phone, and find it -- just in time to see "1 missed call" and then "number unavailable."
How weird, you think. Who could THAT have been? Wrong number?
4:19 a.m.: It rings again. You grab it asap (it's on your nightstand now, so no running across the house) and it's an old friend. That you spent years in AA with. Who is drunk, slurring, emotional, and tells you that the person they have been seeing for years has just left them. You respond, but your voice has that dead-of-night sleepy sound to it, and they say, "WELL. You sound tired, I'll let you go." AND HANG UP.
You turn your cell off and lay there wondering, worrying, imagining the worst. Are they going to drive? Overdose? Fall down? They sounded REALLY awful. Your husband, who is now awake too, is also concerned.
But what can you do? The friend, the breakup, and the booze are all out of state, thousands of miles away, out of reach in more ways than one.
When you wake up and turn the cell back on there is a message. Of course there is. 6:08 a.m. Same person. Still drunk. (more drunk?) Letting you know that they are really [messed]-up and that so-and-so has left them. Really? You don't say? It's like Deja Vu all over again.
10:40 a.m., a hang-up from "unavailable."
Then a series of emails stating a) it was a one-time thing; b) that it's been happening "occasionally"; c) that they want to quit.
Of course alcoholics lie. DUH. But you try to help someone based on one story, then the story changes.
"You can always count on me being honest with you," they say.
But they've been drinking for years and just happened to forget to mention that to you. OOPSIE.
You suggest AA, they get all irate. Say you're rigid and judgmental and everyone else was nice and you are mean. Everyone else "listened" and "supported" them. You say a million times you love them no matter what, but they continue to say you didn't support them.
Was I supposed to have hopped a plane and stayed up to watch the sunrise while salting margarita glasses? What does a recovering alcoholic/chemical dependency counselor/friend/suburban mother of two supposed to do for her drunk friend in the middle of the night, 2 states away?
These are rhetorical questions I suppose, because there really is no point to this -- the friendship had been over for longer than I wanted to admit, the drinking had been going on for longer than this person cared to mention, and to quote Carly Simon, I haven't got time for the pain. I haven't got room for the pain. I have a life, a very full, very healthy life, filled with non-toxic people who know better than to call me in the middle of the night drunk. If it's an emergency, call 911. If it's not, it can wait till daylight. The people in my life are very precious to me, but I also need to be selective about who I let in. And who I let out.
Everyone I talked to -- family, friends, co-workers -- they all reminded me how insane it is to try to talk rationally with an irrational person. An addict in relapse is not a rational thinker.
So I put some distance there. Possibly permanent distance. If I wanted to hear from drunks in the middle of the night, I'd have been a bartender.
You're a recovering addict. You have 20 years clean. You, your husband, and your 2 children are sound asleep. Your cell phone rings at 3:23 a.m. You jump out of bed, run to the kitchen, grab your purse, dig around for the phone, and find it -- just in time to see "1 missed call" and then "number unavailable."
How weird, you think. Who could THAT have been? Wrong number?
4:19 a.m.: It rings again. You grab it asap (it's on your nightstand now, so no running across the house) and it's an old friend. That you spent years in AA with. Who is drunk, slurring, emotional, and tells you that the person they have been seeing for years has just left them. You respond, but your voice has that dead-of-night sleepy sound to it, and they say, "WELL. You sound tired, I'll let you go." AND HANG UP.
You turn your cell off and lay there wondering, worrying, imagining the worst. Are they going to drive? Overdose? Fall down? They sounded REALLY awful. Your husband, who is now awake too, is also concerned.
But what can you do? The friend, the breakup, and the booze are all out of state, thousands of miles away, out of reach in more ways than one.
When you wake up and turn the cell back on there is a message. Of course there is. 6:08 a.m. Same person. Still drunk. (more drunk?) Letting you know that they are really [messed]-up and that so-and-so has left them. Really? You don't say? It's like Deja Vu all over again.
10:40 a.m., a hang-up from "unavailable."
Then a series of emails stating a) it was a one-time thing; b) that it's been happening "occasionally"; c) that they want to quit.
Of course alcoholics lie. DUH. But you try to help someone based on one story, then the story changes.
"You can always count on me being honest with you," they say.
But they've been drinking for years and just happened to forget to mention that to you. OOPSIE.
You suggest AA, they get all irate. Say you're rigid and judgmental and everyone else was nice and you are mean. Everyone else "listened" and "supported" them. You say a million times you love them no matter what, but they continue to say you didn't support them.
Was I supposed to have hopped a plane and stayed up to watch the sunrise while salting margarita glasses? What does a recovering alcoholic/chemical dependency counselor/friend/suburban mother of two supposed to do for her drunk friend in the middle of the night, 2 states away?
These are rhetorical questions I suppose, because there really is no point to this -- the friendship had been over for longer than I wanted to admit, the drinking had been going on for longer than this person cared to mention, and to quote Carly Simon, I haven't got time for the pain. I haven't got room for the pain. I have a life, a very full, very healthy life, filled with non-toxic people who know better than to call me in the middle of the night drunk. If it's an emergency, call 911. If it's not, it can wait till daylight. The people in my life are very precious to me, but I also need to be selective about who I let in. And who I let out.
Everyone I talked to -- family, friends, co-workers -- they all reminded me how insane it is to try to talk rationally with an irrational person. An addict in relapse is not a rational thinker.
So I put some distance there. Possibly permanent distance. If I wanted to hear from drunks in the middle of the night, I'd have been a bartender.
posted by wendy at 6:20 PM
3 Comments:
This sounds like our Friday night coffee talks... You gatta love being the rational one though... I do.
And then let me guess, they tried to tell you it wasn't like that, and you have it all wrong? That they won't drink again? And that they are FINE? I once got an email from an old program buddy...used to be quite a sage, that one...started drinking "socially" after about 10 years sober and would write me long emails describing in great detail how normal his drinking is......don't they know that normal drinkers don't have to explain themselves? Glad you're putting some distance there, kiddo - your friend sounds like a trainwreck.
NORMAL DRINKERS DO NOT HAVE TO DEFEND OR EXPLAIN THEMSELVES indeed.
Thou doth protest too much.
Let go of these negative toxic folks in your life...you are such a ray of sunshine, you don't need this darkness anywhere near you!!! Keep up the good work.
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