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The Real Tragedy of the Alcoholic Family

Every once in a while...


Like tonight.


Somehow all the stars will align just right and my family will spend a lovely evening together.


It's rare, there's no doubt about it.


And this doesn't mean I've come to think my marriage will ever be anything more than the alcoholic train wreck it is but...


Nights like tonight when we all (ALL!) get along and enjoy each other's company, even laugh together, remind me what the real tragedy is for my family.


There is love in my family. But at the risk of disagreeing with the Beetles, all you need is not love. Love, despite its status in the world as the greatest of all human emotions, cannot carry a family. We do have love. Really. But we do not have respect, communication, camaraderie, affection, emotional generosity, selflessness. team work.


Basically, ALL we have is love. And that is the real tragedy because though the love is real...


It's not enough.

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I have been married to my alcoholic husband for over 20 years now. (So hard to believe and comprehend where that time went.) I have felt SO MANY things in these years of marriage. Disbelief. Rage.

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