Get over it?

I read a book last week called Dopefiend: A Father’s Journey from Addiction to Redemption. I thought it was a very good book. It is a memoir written by a colleague of mine from The Mothership, where we both toil as technical writers.
This book was inspirational on a couple of levels: it is a story with a qualified happy ending. Tim is a good guy, salt-of-the-earth kind of East coaster. He offers me a bit of a kindred spirit. MA is not PA but the similarities tickle a part of my reptilian brain. “Something is familiar about this guy.”
It also offers an oblique insight into the world of the 12 step program. I was surprised not by the inclusion of the 12 steps but by the way Tim interpreted it. I was bit of skeptic there and when I heard Tim’s inner dialog in the book, it was illuminating.
When I found out about Dopefiend, I knew what I had to do. I wasn’t going to ask for a book, I was going to buy the book on Amazon – the same way I would any book. In a way, I was respecting the process. I don’t know how many people will publish books but, particularly for this subject, it seemed right. I was happy to receive it in the mail and then arranged to have lunch with “the author” so that he could sign it for me. The Full Monty – so-to-speak.
We had a great lunch and conversation. I put my review of the book on the Amazon review, under a pseudonym.
Talking to Tim, I thought back to my own trials and tribulations. I’m not ready to completely unburden in this forum on a couple of notable events in my life. But as I’ve moved from “depression” to relative wellness, I struggle with one of the obvious themes. When do you “Get over it?” 
In the 12 step programs, I believe there is concept that you are an alcoholic for life. Thus, you have to take “one day at a time.” There are always meetings to go to. You have a sponsor. In the 12 steps, there is no idea of magic day in the future when you have gotten over it.
Truth be told, I’m not a fan of these programs. As a young person, my mother sent me to Alateen. It was held on the campus of Holy Cross College. I don’t know what age I was, but I remember being slightly embarrassed by the whole thing. I might be been 12 or barely a teenager. That fact was a bit difficult. I don’t remember even how I got to the meetings but I think my aunt drove me.
I don’t remember how many times I went but I knew it wasn’t going to work for me. From that point on, I was very aware of the concept of alcoholism and the prominent role it had in my family. It was well-intentioned on the part of my mother to send me to what she thought would help me.
Now, over thirty years later. I cannot say I’ve gotten over it. I have found strategies that help me deal with the the effects of an alcoholic parent. I’m only using that phrasing for convenience. Is my dad an alcoholic? I don’t know. But that’s the easiest phrasing for me to use.
I see the whole constellation of drug and alcohol use as a form of self-medication. It seems like an easy way to deal with pain and difficulty. The problem is that it doesn’t deal with the first order problem in the first place, but I’m not breaking any new ground there.
Maybe the 12-step program has the right idea: there is no concept of getting over it. For me, avoiding depression is the most simple goal I can articulate. I consider my past an influence there but not a dominating one. My father’s use of alcohol had an effect on me. I was very angry about it. I felt as though I didn’t matter as much as I should. I felt a lack of attention. And, I saw the same thing with my mother and siblings and that affected me too. I felt bad.
Was any of this beyond the norm? I have no idea. I bet many of my peers in my hometown were in similar places. But that’s their lives, not mine. It offers little comfort to me.
I could say I forgiven my father, and in a way I have. That’s a nice tidy synopsis. But that’s a bit too “over it” for me. I have the best relationship I can have with my father now. He is a good man, if a bit troubled. I think he is more comfortable in his own skin now, somehow. It doesn’t matter if I have forgiven him, actually. What matters is that I understand him and his situation better. I have always loved him, even when I hated him. I love him now. And for whatever reason, in his later years he seems a bit more open.
As grandfather, he impresses me. His influence in my life, through my wife who he adores, and my kids is great source of pleasure. I try to enjoy that “one day at a time” too.