My first memory of drunken violence was when I was five years old. My mother’s screams woke me up in the middle of the night.

There was a bad storm—lots of wind, rain, and lightening. I sat up in bed, frozen, unable to move as I listened to my mother screaming and furniture being overturned.

I wanted to protect her, but he was a very big man and I was a little girl. Long after I understood there was nothing I could have done, I still felt guilty that I sat in my bed with the covers pulled up around me and stayed frozen like a little statue until it quieted down.

The next morning my mother didn’t go to work; she had two black eyes. Dad sat on the edge of the bed with her and held her hand.

Nothing was said about it, and I knew better than to ask any questions. There were several similar situations like that over the years.

My parents provided a good home, with plenty of food on the table. My father taught us the difference between right and wrong, perhaps not always by example buy by removing his belt and snapping it to put fear in us.

What was absent in our home was a feeling that we were safe, protected, and loved. There was little or no emotional connection between parent and child. I felt invisible and insignificant to the parents I loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world.

That’s why I believe I didn’t marry an alcoholic by accident. I was prewired to do so. Most people I knew drank the way my husband did. It was “normal” to me.

Of course, I didn’t realize that I knew nothing about what normal was. All I knew is that I felt like I had this big, empty hole inside of me. I thought it would go away if I got married—but it didn’t.

Then I thought it would go away if I had a baby. But I still felt empty inside even after I had a  beautiful, healthy baby girl.

After 13 years of marriage, my husband went to detox for five days and an outpatient program for six months. I thought everything would be just fine as long as he didn’t drink again! We had another child, a beautiful baby boy.

I went to Al-Anon meetings every week because a counselor from my husband’s outpatient program looked me square in the eye and said, “Go to Al-Anon.” I did what I was told to do, but I did it with an enormous amount of resentment—because he had a problem, not me.

I avoided speaking and never made eye contact with anyone. I ran as soon as the dreaded meeting was over.

Many times I thought about taking my own life. I came close only once—I had a loaded .357 Magnum in my hand. I quietly put it down, went into the bathroom, and vomited. It’s only by the grace of my Higher Power that I didn’t pull the trigger.

I hated myself but I didn’t know why. For most of my marriage, it seemed that liquor was far more important to my husband than I was.

After three years of sobriety, my husband relapsed. Every few months, he would drink; although he hid it well, I always knew. I would confront him. He would deny it but he would stop. A few months later we would go through the same thing.

We did this “dance” for seven years. By that time, I had stopped loving him. I could no longer distinguish the man from the disease. They had become one.

I got much-needed support at meetings, but more important, something changed inside me. Finally, I became committed to my own recovery for the first time. I was giving up my self-will, and truly turning it over.

I learned what “gut-level” honesty is about. That helped me to see who I am, and who I wanted to be.

I have forgiven my children’s father who perfectly re-created my childhood for me every day of our marriage. Even now I gravitate toward people who can’t be there for me. What’s different today is tat I recognize this tendency, and I’m better able to protect myself.

Today I can acknowledge that I’m a damaged but loveable, decent human being. I take delight in being able to say that about myself. I believe I can have serenity not in spite of my wounds but because of them.

My journey of recovery will not end until I’m called home. In the meantime, what a wonderful thing is to be able to see, hear, think, feel, love, laugh, hurt, cry, and learn whatever lessons for which I’m ready.

Reprinted with permission of The Forum. Al-Anon Family Group Hdqts., Inc., Virginia Beach, VA.

Send this E-mail to a colleague Request 2009 Catalog Mailed June 24, 2009 Stress Management Product Suite Click here. FrontLine Employee EAP Newsletter: It comes monthly, but you control frequency....It's finished, but you can change every word....It's got a name, but you can have your own (and now a customized professional masthead)...It's peer-written, but you can request topics...No log-in's. No Passwords. No linking to my web site. It's seamless for your identity. Easy-to-use formats include MS Word & MS Publisher, or just the text as a content service. It is...truly your own newsletter for a flat low price. CLICK--HERE TO VIEW A PDF OF THE NEW BROCHURE If you really need the full story, every question under the sun is answered at this new information page. Dear Workplace EAP and HR Professional: Download: Supervisor Role in a Respectful Workplace Recently, it struck me in a new way that respectful behavior in the workplace has a powerful role in preventing violence, and potentially workplace homicide. In researching today's free fact sheet, it's been my observation that this connection doesn't get a lot of attention in discussions about training in workplace respect. The driving forces are mostly concerns about low morale, lost productivity, conflict, staff turnover, and absenteeism. It's easier for top management to postpone things like workplace respect training in favor of other priorities when these less weighty issues are the key concerns. "Workplace homicide prevention" sounds dramatic, but the rash of recent news accounts about workplace shootings is beginning to hit home. So, here's the point ... In workplace murder-suicide notes, a common denominator is anger and hatred toward coworkers associated with teasing, being ostracized, social isolation at work, torment, humiliation and embarrassment, victimization, and bullying. How much of an impact can training in workplace respect have on preventing these coworker behaviors? When one incorporates the important concept of being a change agent, a responsibility every employee bears, in the same way it is used in diversity training, to step up and speak out against inappropriate behavior, the answer to this question becomes clear: it's enormous. But here's the real kicker ... OSHA and the CDC--the two leading federal agencies promoting the prevention of workplace violence--mention nowhere in their recommendations that training in workplace respect would be valuable, much less crucial. Each agency recommends zero tolerance toward inappropriate behavior like aggression toward others, threatening, bullying, stalking, etc. But we all know that employees who commit murder-suicide fester under the radar and may never demonstrate some of these behaviors. More visible may be the provocative behaviors of disrespect. Certainly the trainers of choice in workplace respect are employee assistance professionals because of their prominent role in helping troubled employees, helping resolve conflicts, consulting with supervisors, contributing to policy development, and understanding the behavioral dynamics of the work culture. EAPs should claim the high ground on workplace respect training, and not shy away from discussing its potential role in the prevention of workplace violence, and potentially homicide. Get the new free fact sheet: Supervisor's Role in a Respectful Workplace The EAP Toolbox 3601 West Higgins, Suite 200 Mount Pleasant, South Carolina 29466 843 884-3632  •  800 626-4327  •  843 884-0442 FAX Copyright © 2009 DFA Publishing & Consulting, LLC