|
This
article marked the beginning of my writings concerning alcoholic
relationships. It was written almost two years before Empowered
Recovery officially came to be.
The
Windsock
By
Doug Kelley • December 1999 • Updated February 2006
"Though
no one can go back and make a brand new start,
anyone
can start from now and make a brand new end."
--Al-Anon
It
was a breezy day in Southwest Florida. The
sun was bright and warm, and there was not a cloud in the sky--a beautiful day
indeed. As I looked outside, I noticed the windsock that I had brought
back from a recent trip to Bodega Bay, California, blowing in the wind.
As I watched it, I noticed it spinning in the wind, and the string that
fastened it was turning in knots. Although it had a swivel to prevent
knotting, it didn't seem to be working. I couldn't help but reflect that
it somehow described my life in a metaphoric sort of way.
It
seemed that the winds of despair were blowing through my life, and all I was
doing was getting tied up in knots. A recent divorce from an alcoholic
had left my son and me in emotional shambles. Neither one of us could
function at all. As for me, I was unable to function at work. I
would just go and sit at my desk, stare at the walls and do nothing really
well. As for my son, he didn't have the emotional strength to go to
school. He was on a Home Bound program which brought a teacher to our
house twice a week for tutoring, but even that proved to be a huge burden for
him.
As
a result of my emotional immobility, I was having a hard time making ends
meet. Since my sales career paid straight commission, if I didn't sell,
I didn't earn anything; if I didn't earn anything, then my problems only
seemed worse. I had become completely "reactive," not
"proactive." I felt as though I was a windsock, spinning in an
endless gust of wind--my swivel not working--and with no way to unravel.
I
sought a therapist for relief and told her of my agonizing inability to
function. She just laughed quietly. She said, "Doug, life has
kicked you again and again, and then kicked you again, and you wonder why you
can't function?" She then told me that I suffered from the injury
of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS) and it would take time to get my
swivel working again and unravel my life. It was clear that my son was
suffering from the same injury. My mother always told me that fierce
problems were like holding up a wall against a strong wind. When the
wind stops blowing, you topple over with it.
Another
therapist helped me to see that I suffered from the disorder of Codependence
and recommended Al-Anon to help me overcome this disorder. At
Al-Anon, I found others who were struggling with their own gusts of wind.
It helped to know that I was not alone in my fight. I also found
acceptance, unconditional love and support. (Little did I realize that
this was just a first step, for I would go on to develop healthier thinking on
my own, and then help others as well. Empowered Recovery would be the result.)
As
I looked closer at the windsock, I noticed that the swivel attached to the
string was in fact turning, but it still allowed the string to knot up a
little bit before the swivel would turn. Maybe my life was really not
spinning out of control after all, as I had thought. Maybe after so many
turns, things had evened out. Maybe I was just reeling from the previous
spinning as my therapist had suggested.
After
awhile, I looked at the windsock again. It was still. The wind had
stopped blowing and the string was no longer knotted. It had unwound.
Maybe this was my life now. After all, the problems caused by alcoholism
were gone. I was now in a beautiful and loving relationship with a
wonderful woman, and we were planning to make a life together to boot.
Maybe--just maybe--the knots of my life were simply bodiless images of past
problems that I was hanging on to for some reason. Maybe I needed these
problems to feel alive; after all, they had been a constant part of my life
for many years. But now, with all of the wonderful things happening in
my life, maybe I could let go of the death grip I had on my past problems.
I could cease giving my problems any life. Maybe now, I could latch onto
the wonderful feelings of the good things in my life. Maybe now I could
start living for the future, instead of living in the past.
Maybe
now, my windsock would be forever beautiful, just hanging peacefully in the
sunshine of life.
|
