I stood outside the bedroom door and said a quick prayer for courage. Then I walked in. My husband Jim lay in bed reading. He glanced up with uncharacteristically sober eyes. Jim sometimes took a night off from drinking after an all-out bender. Tonight was one of those rare nights.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to a twelve-step meeting,\u201d I said, trying to sound more resolute than I felt. I didn\u2019t have to explain that the meeting was for loved ones of alcoholics. The look that crossed Jim\u2019s face told me he knew full well what I was talking about.<\/p>\n
We had discussed his drinking problem many times, but I\u2019d never actually done anything about it. Jim kept his eyes fixed on his book. He didn\u2019t say a word. I walked out.<\/p>\n
You might think such a negative scene would never happen to the daughter of Zig Ziglar, world-famous motivational speaker and champion of positive thinking. You might think Zig Ziglar\u2019s daughter was a model person who always made good choices and did not end up at age 30 on her second marriage, this time to a total drunk.<\/p>\n
Well, if you thought that you would be wrong.<\/p>\n
My mom and dad were wonderful, loving parents and all my life I wanted to follow their example. Instead, I fell in with a bad crowd in junior high and before I knew it I was married at age 18 to a man twice my age.<\/p>\n
I got out of that marriage when his hot temper crossed the line from verbal to physical abuse five weeks after our daughter was born. For seven years I prayed for a husband who would love me like my dad loved my mom. A stable provider, a good influence on my daughter, Amey.<\/p>\n
Then I met Jim Norman, a successful businessman on the rebound from a divorce.<\/p>\n
Jim had three kids of his own, a college-age daughter and 12-year-old twins. They were great kids. A good sign, I thought. Jim and I had a lot in common and I got along with his friends. We all liked to drink socially.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy ex-wife said I\u2019m an alcoholic,\u201d Jim said when we were dating. \u201cYou don\u2019t think so, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said. Jim didn\u2019t seem to drink much more than I did. I drank with clients sometimes (I was in sales) and I might have an occasional drink or two after putting Amey to bed. But that was it.<\/p>\n
I thought so for Jim too\u2014for the first three months of our marriage. Then for no apparent reason Jim\u2019s drinking escalated. He\u2019d come home from work and fix himself a scotch and water, then another and another.<\/p>\n
\u201cI love<\/em> you guys,\u201d he\u2019d gush to me and the kids at the dinner table, his words slurring. When he finished eating he\u2019d pour himself a large snifter of cognac and disappear into our bedroom, where he kept his easy chair facing the TV.<\/p>\n By the time the kids were ready for bed Jim was passed out in his chair, the TV blaring.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s going on with you?\u201d I asked one morning.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d Jim answered defensively.<\/p>\n \u201cYour drinking is out of control.\u201d<\/p>\n Jim looked at me. \u201cI like a few cocktails in the evening but I\u2019m no drunk. My dad was an alcoholic. He drank from sunrise to sunset. I never drink before five o\u2019clock.\u201d<\/p>\n That evening, when I saw the scotch and water come out yet again, I defiantly poured myself a bourbon and Diet Coke. Not enough to get drunk, just enough to take the edge off my gathering fear. What if Jim did this every night?<\/p>\n Jim did do it every night. Weeks became months and Jim\u2019s drinking became part of our family routine. So did my bourbon and Diet Cokes\u2014the kids called it \u201cdirty Coke\u201d\u2014but of course I didn\u2019t get drunk like Jim.<\/p>\n I had to keep up with the kids\u2019 homework and activities. A cocktail or two helped me cope with Jim\u2019s nightly disappearance to his easy chair in the bedroom.<\/p>\n Jim and I were youth leaders at our church. Every Sunday, driving home after services, I looked at Jim\u2019s kind, sober face and wondered whether he really was the answer to all those prayers I\u2019d prayed for a good husband.<\/p>\n My mom and dad liked Jim. But we never drank in front of them. I thought Jim was part of your plan, Lord. What went wrong?<\/em><\/p>\n The kids started avoiding Jim in the evenings. His 12-year-old daughter, Jenni, and I stopped getting along. I began adding Amaretto to my after-dinner coffee. It helped my stress.<\/p>\n One day I picked up Jim from the doctor\u2019s office. He\u2019d hurt himself horseback riding. The doctor pulled me aside.<\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Norman, I\u2019m going to be blunt with you. I\u2019m a recovering alcoholic myself so I know the symptoms. Your husband has a serious problem. When you\u2019re sick and tired of living with a drunk, call me. I can help.\u201d<\/p>\n I hardly knew what to say. I drove Jim home in silence. A serious problem.<\/em> How serious was it? Jim\u2019s work didn\u2019t seem to suffer. It wasn\u2019t like he was out at some bar every night or on the street.<\/p>\n Several months later Jim and I went to a charity benefit. Jim drank until he was incoherent. The next night we went out to dinner with some friends and he did it again. Then he came home and drank everything in the house.<\/p>\n I\u2019d never seen him drink like that. It was as if he was trying, and failing, to quench some desperate thirst. The next morning I called the doctor.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve got a phone number for you,\u201d the doctor said. He gave me the number of a man who he said was experienced in 12-step programs. \u201cDo your best to follow his advice.\u201d<\/p>\n I called the man and told him my story. His reply shocked me. \u201cYou realize you have a problem,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I was so taken aback I was practically speechless. Me? What did he mean?<\/p>\n \u201cYou can\u2019t do anything about your husband\u2019s drinking,\u201d the man said. \u201cNo one can persuade an alcoholic to stop drinking except the alcoholic.<\/p>\n “Your problem is that you\u2019re too involved in your husband\u2019s drinking. It\u2019s taken over your life and you need to get it back. You\u2019re as sick as he is. Get help for yourself. There\u2019s a twelve-step program for loved ones of alcoholics. I can direct you to a meeting. Will you go tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014I guess so.\u201d<\/p>\n He hung up. I stared at the phone, confused. A meeting? What kind of meeting? If this was God answering my prayers it sure didn\u2019t feel like it. Why did I need help? Jim was the drinker!<\/p>\n But in my heart of hearts I knew, I just knew, the man on the phone had spoken some truth I didn\u2019t yet understand, something that had gnawed at my soul for a long time. I was just so afraid to admit it.<\/p>\n So that evening I walked into the bedroom and told Jim I was going to the 12-step meeting. And I went.<\/p>\n The meeting was in an old house in a slightly run-down neighborhood. A group of women sat in chairs drinking coffee. Right away I felt out of place.<\/p>\n The women seemed to be speaking a foreign language. They talked about \u201cdetaching with love,\u201d \u201cfeelings are not facts\u201d and \u201cyou\u2019re only as sick as your secrets.\u201d They said normal people don\u2019t marry drunks so we spouses had to work on our own issues.<\/p>\n They encouraged me to turn my husband over to the care of God and find a \u201csponsor,\u201d someone who could help me work the program\u2019s 12 steps. Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable. <\/em><\/p>\n Well, that certainly applied to Jim. His drinking was destroying our lives. Still, I knew there was more.<\/p>\n When I got home I sat on the edge of the bed, looked deep into Jim\u2019s yellowed, bloodshot eyes and announced, \u201cI\u2019m turning you over to God and I\u2019m going to work on making myself better.\u201d<\/p>\n The next evening I was stunned to hear Jim say, \u201cI went to a twelve-step meeting today.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou what?\u201d<\/p>\n In a quiet voice he said, \u201cWhat you said about turning me over to God scared me to death. It really sunk in. I thought about it all night. And today I just went. Are you going to keep going to your meeting?\u201d<\/p>\n I nodded. We weren\u2019t sure what to say after that. This was new territory.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t trust Jim to stay sober, so I stuck with my 12-step program for family and friends of alcoholics. But Jim stuck with his meetings. In fact, he seemed to be having a better experience than I was. He found a sponsor and began moving through the steps and recommitting himself to God.<\/p>\n I had trouble finding a sponsor. Worse, I was unsure how to live with the new, sober Jim. It even felt awkward drinking my \u201cdirty Coke\u201d in front of him, so I drank only when I went out of town.<\/p>\n I came to Step Four in my program, making \u201ca searching and fearless moral inventory\u201d of myself. I sketched out my history with Jim and the years before. The folks in my program said I had to recall everything I possibly could and be totally honest. Honest with myself and God.<\/p>\n Turns out being honest was the hardest thing I\u2019d ever done.<\/p>\n