Additional Thoughts on Together We Heal

Many people read Together We Heal and come across new ideas or information that they think might help their family or friends. But it's a little tricky to just hand someone a book about issues faced by alcoholic and other high-stress families and say, "You ought to read this!"- even if you are respectful and sensitive as you tell them.

If you feel the urge to give the book to members of your family, or to a friend whose family struggled with these issues, should you?

There are so many things to consider that it would be great if we could talk about your specific circumstances before I answered, but clearly we can't. Over the years numerous clients have tried to help their friends and families by sharing the book and/or other articles. Their experiences have been mixed. Below are a few examples of the situations that have resulted. These illustrations are created from composites of my clients' experiences.

After you've thought carefully about these situations, I'll give you a quick list of issues to review when you consider giving a gift that might be distressing to the person you are trying to help

Nancy

Despite my advice to take it slow, Nancy, a woman in her mid-30's was so excited by what she was learning about alcoholism and codependency that she sent a Christmas package to her six sisters and brothers which included my book, along with a couple of short articles I had given her.

Their reactions, which weren't even close to what she expected, devastated and shocked her. The majority were at best apathetic. They accused her of wasting good energy on stuff that didn't matter: "It's over. We're adults. That was then-this is now." But that reaction paled in comparison to her oldest sister who was offended and got quite angry. She said, "You're wrong, our father was not alcoholic and I was not affected in any way." This, in spite of the fact that her sister was now married to a man who was clearly an active alcoholic.

Only one of Nancy's sisters was even mildly interested in hearing about her new discoveries.

Nancy and I talked a lot about whether she should work toward approaching them again in the future-and reviewed strategies that might have a better chance of helping them to see what she was seeing.

This strategy worked well with her siblings over time. By waiting patiently to find teachable moments-those in which the person she was talking with was open to listening and sharing-she found all but one family member came to understand and acknowledge the assessment of the problem her family faced. Even the older sister, who so adamantly rejected the possibilities, came to agree.

Wonderful changes started to happen in her extended family. Her sister's husband got sober and eventually became an addiction counselor.

Jamie

When Jamie, a woman in her late 40's, shared her new learning with her brothers and sisters, they told her she was crazy and their parents were not alcoholic. After years of struggling to trust her own perceptions about herself and her family, this brave woman essentially had to leave her family in order to facilitate her recovery from years of severe trauma, abuse and neglect. Over the next 15 years, the situation didn't change and she was never able to "rejoin" her family.

Nonetheless, she did a beautiful job in her recovery and despite the sadness of losing her old style of connection with her family, she continually told me her peace of mind and clarity about her life and family was worth the price. The cost of continuing as a part of her family's conspiracy of silence and denial was just too high for her.

Frank

Frank called me to tell me he'd gotten my book from "a friend" and planned to give it to his wife because they'd been fighting about his unwillingness to let his children stay with their grandparents-her parents-out of fear that the adults' drinking put the children at risk. His wife said she and her siblings had grown up in that house and they were fine. He told me he felt caught between what he felt was right for his children and not wanting to create problems in his marriage. I advised him to come in and talk it over carefully before giving her the book.

He didn't follow my recommendation; he just gave her the book. He later reported that she had found the book tremendously useful, had gotten into counseling and they were able to find reasonable compromises so the children could see their grandparents- while the parents both were assured that their children were safe.

This approach worked with this couple, but in most cases it's better to first spend the time to carefully think through the risks and rewards with a counselor. I'd recommend looking for someone who has experience and understands addiction and its complex effects on families. To find someone qualified, you can look up alcoholism in the phonebook or on the web, or ask your physician, clergyperson or friends for referrals.

A List to Review Before Trying to Help

Some risks worth considering:

• You may be ridiculed

• You may feel alienated from your family

• Your family may ostracize you

• You or your ideas may be rejected

• You may be demeaned when you're vulnerable

• It can cause long-term discord

• It might splinter the family

• Family events may become more tense

  
  

Some benefits and rewards of trying:

• You may become closer to your partner, family or friends

• Intimacy may increase over the long run

• Treatment sometimes becomes possible for active alcoholics/drug abusers

• The old dysfunctional rules, "Don't talk, Don't trust, Don't feel," may be broken down

• There may be reduced enabling of abusers

• You may feel more comfortable within yourself

In sum, take your time as you sort out what makes most sense for you. Though there are risks, it absolutely may be worth the gamble.

People Raised In Any High Stress Home May Also Benefit

Together We Heal is helpful for anybody interested in, or curious about other people's lives. It gives you an insider's view of as people sort out and work through the leftovers of growing up in a troubled family. You hear what is really happening in their lives, what they think and feel, what issues they are struggling with today, and perhaps most important of all, the changes they are making to improve their lives.

People of all ages, from all kinds of backgrounds have told me that they identified with the experiences and feelings of the people in this group. Dysfunctional family patterns and unresolved issues do not only affect children of alcoholics: Many people suffered losses similar to the people in the book. Perhaps they grew up with an emotionally detached or over-controlling parent, or one who was a "rageaholic". Mental or physical illness may have taken away important time and experiences of their childhood or adolescence. If a parent is controlled by some obsession or addiction including compulsive gambling, an eating disorder, workaholism, or addiction to the Internet, it is likely to create serious, ongoing problems for family members.

Tidbits of Philosophy... and Some Personal Experiences

As in real life, the people in this book first have to struggle against the urge not to tell anyone, including themselves, how deeply affected they were by their experiences in childhood and adolescence. Additionally, most people begin therapy feeling like they are betraying their parents, blaming them unfairly, or making excuses for their problems. As a therapist, I am constantly in awe of clients who move through the stages of hypervigilant protection of their family to feeling safe enough to talk honestly and openly about the pain and shame they experience. I know how difficult this journey has been for me.

Being able to acknowledge the depth of the pain is a huge step. Being the child of Holocaust survivors set me up to become an expert at underrating my distress. (This is a defense therapists call minimizing). No loss I had could compare to those my parents endured. I believed that no feeling of desperation could match up to having your entire family killed, having to leave your country, having your first two children die, having your career and savings disappear...

So, I was well practiced at "My life isn't so bad" no matter what pain I was experiencing, no matter how hard my life was at the time.

Here's another example of my expertise in defenses: I knew and often talked in adulthood about my father's go-for-the-jugular verbal abuse. When asked what it meant to me to be an abused child, I couldn't find a place inside me to understand the question, to help me make emotional sense of it. "Abused child? Me?" The words had literally never entered my mind. I knew I lived with extreme abuse, told people that my father was abusive, but somehow that was entirely different from being an abused child.

I kept revisiting the words abused child. "Was I" transformed slowly to "I was" as the question and doubt morphed into certainty. It took some time to absorb this new reality, to find ways to open myself up to believing and accepting that I was an abused child.

Many of my clients have an equivalent experience when they try to incorporate: My mother was/is an alcoholic; my father was/is a drug addict so that makes me an adult child of an alcoholic (drug addict). Many for the first time came to understand the reality of: My parents abused us; I was an abused child. They grappled to accept that it is not weakness to acknowledge that: My mother is mentally ill; My father is a sex addict, My mother sexually abused us, My parents were evil, My father abandoned me, My mother didn't protect me. Throughout this process, clients struggle, as I have, to sort out who they are as well.

We need to explore the impact of our family relations in order to move forward-past the pain into more successful relationships and friendships, jobs that are meaningful and productive, parenting we are proud of, better physical and emotional health and overall more joyful and pleasant lives.

A Postscript

I thank the many courageous clients who have shared their sadness, fear, helplessness, confusion and loneliness with me. We celebrated their freedom as they grieved their losses.

How honored I feel to be a part of this process. I have learned more than I ever could have taught.