Sunday, September 22, 2002		Life Ties

“I gave up alcohol not for others but for myself”
Taru Bahl

ANITA, a petite child, evoked strong protective feelings in people. She was used to receiving attention effortlessly but as she grew older, things changed. Her helplessness failed to produce knights in shining armour and her clinging to people for emotional sustenance made them shy away from her. From being everyone’s little princess, she was dismissed as a dispensable commodity. Though she envied classmates who had the ability to excel in academics, sports or dance, none of these held her interest. Since she wanted to be lauded for something, she found that dressing differently could attract instant attention. Her brightly coloured outfits, bizarre styles and weird hairdos became the talk of college. Her circle of friends expanded and she experimented with smoking, besides bunking classes and going to discos.

Her wayward ways found no approval with her family. They lectured her on doing something sensible in life. Finally, they decided marriage would tame her. Her plans of doing postgraduation in fashion and design were trashed and after a quick wedding she was packed off to Jalandhar. Once the novelty of marriage wore off and she had two daughters in quick succession, boredom set in. This was accompanied by pent-up nervous energy.

Lacking the discipline to focus on any one thing for long made it impossible for her to channel her energy into a job or business. Her husband had enough money and would not have discouraged her, had she been serious about pursuing a vocation. She remained on tenterhooks, easily excitable and convinced she was being used and abused by everyone. This feeling gnawed at her and led to severe mood swings. "My husband is boring and predictable. Given a choice, he would choose his office over me. My parents couldn’t be bothered. Had I their support, I would have walked out of this non-happening marriage ages ago. My in-laws are image conscious. They are condescending, as if forced to tolerate my buffooning ways. Our social crowd is vicious. Had a different set of people inhabited my world I would have been happy and motivated enough to actualise my potential."

What started off as acceptable social drinking threatened to become a habit. Downing two rum-cokes, vodka-orange juices or beer-limcas seemed harmless. Her husband did not mind, chivalrous young men offered to make her a drink and the bottomline was she enjoyed it. A drink made her feel lighter, she slept better and the world didn’t seem such a bad place after all. Trouble started when the amount she drank at social dos seemed inadequate.

Anita who had earlier hated forced socialising did not resent it so much now. It gave her a pretext to drink. She would steal a drink or two from her husband’s bar before leaving, have a couple at the party and on returning home have some more. Her husband was not much of a drinker and he usually hit the bed on their return. Sleep eluded her and a few drinks helped.

Anita was intelligent enough to know that her growing dependence on alcohol was not normal. However, she was not prepared to face this reality squarely. It was convenient to go on a binge, misbehave at times, embarrass the family and feel guilty the morning after. She always found enough reasons and excuses to justify the drinking, telling herself that she could stop the day she wanted to.

Her husband and in-laws, by now, knew they had a problem on their hands but it was easier to deny it, treat it as an aberration and cover it up. They still had no idea of how much she was consuming. By now, she had to have a drink first thing in the morning, "to collect myself and send the girls to school". Since she was working, it was not difficult to buy her own liquor and stash it in a remote corner of her cupboard or shoe rack. In moments of acute need she hit her husband’s bar.

The situation deteriorated and her drinking acquired a major nuisance value. The family was up in arms realising there was little they could do to "cover it up", it was becoming difficult to hold on to her job and she knew she needed help. She had, by now, sunk low in her own estimation. She was aware of how her teenaged daughters were getting impacted by having to bear with a "drunken mom". The definitive moment came when her husband summoned her parents, apprised them of the situation and asked them to take charge of their daughter.

Her father, a retired Army officer, had handled many crises but this numbed him. He knew sermonising would not help. She could not give up alcohol without medical, psychological and spiritual intervention. Doctors could flush it out, clean the system and put her on medication. They could treat her for damage that was still reversible. How would they deal with her emotional and mental state?

A friend suggested Alcoholic Anonymous. But wasn’t that something that existed only in America ? And even if it did have a chapter here, would his daughter be comfortable rubbing shoulders with fellow drunks ? The image he could conjure was that of truck drivers and good-for-nothing alcoholics. A meeting with the coordinator in a city close to his, changed that. He decided to take Anita to Delhi which had Asia’s only women’s group. Anita allowed herself to be taken. She wanted to give up alcohol and knew she could not do it on her own. But the anxiety of facing a group and admitting she was an alcoholic was too much. By the time she stumbled into the little room housed in the backyard of the Masigarh Church (Sukhdev Vihar), she was in her own words "sozzled".

The instant rapport was magical, in that it brought her back for the next meeting. When she walked in she said, " I know I am a bad woman, a mad woman and an immoral woman." To which they said, " you are neither bad, mad nor immoral. You are just a sick woman. You have an illness and it can be cured." This pronouncement was such a relief. To find people who had reached rock-bottom after drinking for 30-35 years and yet given it up provided her with a ray of hope. It was not easy to resolve and stay off alcohol but the support group and the affection, understanding and accountability that came from their frank discussions made it seem achievable.

Gradually, she (like the others) found that God helps those who help themselves. There were occasional relapses but the group helped her tide over them. She knew that for an alcoholic like her there was no middle-of-the-road approach. She could never be a social drinker, content with having an occasional drink. If she drank it would be unstoppable, as if there was no tomorrow. There was no other way than to give it up entirely. She did that and today she voluntarily gives the group her time, talking to fresh entrants, telling them that if she could do it, they certainly can. She admits "earlier I felt that everyone around me was wrong. Today they are the same. It is me who has changed and along with that change has come the awareness of life, beauty, god and love. I gave up alcohol not for others but for myself."