Surviving Addiction

Attended my first Al-Anon meeting last night.

At 65, this isn’t how I pictured retirement, but after hearing others share experiences similar to ours, I’m grateful we went. I look forward to what this community can offer us—and, over time, what we can give back.

When my daughter called and suggested my wife and I attend a meeting with her, we didn’t hesitate. We’ve tried everything else to understand the disease of addiction and how it affects not just the addict, but our entire family. Why not try this too?

The first thing I noticed was the level playing field—everyone leaves their ego at the door.

The second thing was how the ground rules reflect life lessons that feel as universal as the Ten Commandments. For those who believe in God or a higher power, these rules resonate. Even if you don’t, Commandments 4-10 still hold value:

1. Love only God

2. No fake gods

3. Say God’s name with love

4. Rest on Sundays

5. Listen to your parents

6. Be kind, don’t hurt people

7. Keep your promises

8. Don’t take what isn’t yours

9. Always tell the truth

10. Be happy with what you have

Al-Anon begins with a simple prayer anyone can relate to:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Next, the meeting guidelines are shared—practical advice that could improve anyone’s daily life:

1. Keep secrets

2. Listen quietly and don’t interrupt

3. Be brief

4. Focus on self-improvement

5. No gossip

6. Embrace spirituality

7. Participate if you want

8. Focus on yourself

9. Give if you can

10. Read and learn

The group’s traditions reinforce its core mission:

1. Help families of addicts to help themselves

2. Work together as a group

3. Everyone is welcome and equal

4. Focus on addiction and recovery

5. What’s said here, stays here

As people shared their stories, it became clear—we are not alone. Hearing how Al-Anon has helped others cope with addiction In their family gave me hope.

Interestingly, the focus wasn’t on fixing the addict—everyone agreed that only the addict can choose recovery. Instead, the emphasis was on supporting the addict in ways that protect your own well-being and your family’s.

The guidelines I was hearing reminded me of the @RobertFulgham book “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” The basic life lessons he outlines—sharing, kindness, fairness, cleaning up after yourself—apply at every stage of life:

1. Share.

2. Play fair.

3. Be kind.

4. Put things back.

5. Clean up.

6. Don’t take what isn’t yours.

7. Say sorry.

8. Wash up.

9. Flush.

10. Enjoy simple treats.

11. Balance work and play.

12. Rest.

13. Stick together.

14. Notice the small things.

15. Be patient—growth takes time.

16. Accept that life ends.

17. Keep learning and looking.

I’ve always been a problem solver and a networker—someone who finds answers or connects with the right people when I can’t solve things myself.

But addiction in a loved one is the most challenging problem I’ve faced. I’m still learning that this isn’t something I can fix. Just as I wouldn’t expect to cure a loved one’s cancer, I can’t cure their addiction.

I’m beginning to understand that balancing survival instincts with parental nurturing is crucial. Protecting my mental and emotional health through boundaries and self-care is an act of survival, while offering support without enabling reflects nurturing.

I can’t fix their addiction, but I can empower them by letting them face consequences and standing by when they seek help. Loving them without losing myself is key.

I’m learning to focus on what I can control and trust that my strength and stability might one day set an example for their recovery.

And maybe…that’s all I can do. 

And ideally.. that’s ok.