What Recovery Looked Like From the Other Side

I checked my rearview mirror religiously when driving under the influence. If I saw a police car, my heart rate doubled. I’d change my route to be sure they weren’t following me. I parked several blocks from my dealer’s house and never went at the same time of day. I kept my curtains drawn and my lights dimmed. I always had a fast-food cup in the car to conceal what I was drinking.

Meanwhile, my partner was going through my drawers, checking up on me, smelling my clothes in the laundry hamper.

We were both exhausted. We were both hiding. We were both pretending.

I share this not to make either of us the villain — but because understanding both sides changed how I work with family members. The addict isn’t unaware of your surveillance; they’re just running the same exhausting game from a different position. Two people burning themselves out trying to manage a disease that neither one can control alone.

This is why I came to Al-Anon even after getting sober. Years into my own recovery, I was still trying to use my sobriety to save my kids when they didn’t want to get sober. I was wrong. The program isn’t about them. It’s about finding your own way back to serenity, regardless of what they choose.

Dave H. has been in recovery since 1995 and in Al-Anon since 2011. His book, The Practice of Imperfection: Finding and Keeping Serenity, is for family members who are tired of losing their peace to someone else’s disease.