Today, I’d like to post an excerpt from a new, remarkable book called God’s Hotel, A Doctor, a Hospital and a Pilgrimage to the Heart of Medicine by Victoria Sweet. Throughout the book, Dr. Sweet explores the issues that make us well or sick, lost or found, whole or broken. So many of those issues have nothing to do with health care per se and everything to do with community and hope and the common threads that unite us all.
As Dr. Sweet attends the funeral of an ex-patient—a man in recovery who changed the lives of many other addicts and alcoholics, she noted: “As I, too, looked over the quiet crowd, I wondered how many of those I called Bad Boys and Bad Girls were, in reality, spiritually thirsty and spiritually sick. Perhaps they were the most sensitive, the most easily hurt of all my patients, the most tortured by the human face of knowing we are doing to die. Perhaps the tattooed, prematurely aged, skinny and solemn patients in front of me were the real empaths, and my patient, Mr. Rapman, had something to teach me—that my life was unmanageable, that I might think about getting it up to a higher power, and that the twelve never-ending steps were, like the pilgrimage, for me also to tread. How was I any different from those quiet, attentive people, touched, even transformed, by the life of someone now dead?”
When faced with addiction or alcoholism, our lives become as unmanageable as the lives of our chemically-dependent children. We really aren’t a lot different from them in that respect. Those twelve steps are there for us all to climb, with our admission of powerlessness the first step towards getting better.
In life you need either inspiration or desperation.— Tony Robbins
I heard on a spiritual talk show the statement, “Desperation was a gift, it saved me”. At first I was curious how one could say that and then recalled that it was desperation that made me seek out a support group for families who have a member addicted to alcohol and drugs. The hurt and uncertainty was too great to function.
I began to realize desperation is what it takes for most people in codependent relationships to find relief, and that this last resort is the end game towards recovery. It took a long time to understand that desperation was actually a gift. Without desperation, I’d still be fighting, over and over in varying ways, to regain control of the uncontrollable: drugs and alcohol addiction of a loved one.
As with anything, desperation can be a double edged sword. Having utter lack of hope, untreated, without intervention or rehabilitation, one might continue towards a path of insanity, institutionalization or death from related disorders. It certainly is a cross-road and as a gift, it created a change in my arsenal of tactics: listen and learn what others are saying.
And the beauty of hearing other people’s perspective helps me self- analyze my own progress in recovery. What initially began as a quest to save my sons turned out to be much more than I imagined. I was initially inspired by the hope that there is a possibility of recovery for them, and nowhere else had I been given that. I even believed there was hope that they too might find the gift of desperation – I realize now that desperation is only a gift if I surrender old ways and chose another. If not, then desperation can further damage. I don’t know if it is a necessary predecessor to change but that is what did it for me.
I’m not sure how and when along this journey with my daughter and our co-occurring addictions – hers with drugs and me with her in my co-dependency – did I start developing a deep faith. It is a faith not just in a power greater than myself, but a faith that if I learn from others and their wisdom and try my best to follow their footsteps, that I can have the faith to move forward and break the cycle. It seemed that although I had made a lot of improvements in how I interacted with my daughter, I still had much to learn. One of the traps that I fell into is when she was doing better, I had the urge to reward her, help her, jump in and make things right for her. I had this overwhelming urge to clean the slate for her and make all her troubles go away. Wasn’t getting clean and sober a big enough burden? Wouldn’t I help a family member be free of a stress if I could?
While logically it may make sense that if you had the ability to do these things, it is the very things you should not do. The reason is that part of recovery is making things right and cleaning up the wreckage of your past. If I were to pay DUI fines and clear other slates then what lesson does that teach my loved one? It teaches them that if they fall then someone else will pick them up. This is not a good lesson. It can reach disastrous proportions if not quelled and nipped in the bud early on. I learned this lesson painfully, but I did notice that with each time my daughter and I had an opportunity to engage and evolve in our relationship, we both grew when we broke the cycle of her having an issue to be solved and me not jumping into solving it. Progress not Perfection!
When my son had been in recovery for almost a year, he told me, “Mom! I can see colors again! It’s not just black and white!” He hadn’t realized until that moment how his vision had been diminished by the chemical assault on his brain. But over time, the brain had recovered, and the lights turned back on.
What a great metaphor for recovery. I didn’t realize how damaged and limited I was until I gained some time and distance from addiction. Only then could I look back and understand how much I missed while focusing entirely on the gritty black and white of substance abuse. My never-ending obsession with “Is he clean or sober? “ “Dead or alive?” “Lying or telling the truth?” made me miss entirely many nuances and color in my life.
My older son’s college graduation exists only as a dim, faded photograph in my mind because I was all-consumed with my younger son’s chemical dependency at that point in time. The proud, handsome grad? I hardly saw him because I was scrutinizing the other child for signs of drinking or drugging. What else did I miss during that horrible stretch of time?
Looking back, I could be sad about what I missed while staring at the sun of addiction and burning a hole in my retina and brain. Instead, I am looking ahead and making sure that I see and seize those precious and fleeting moments of color in my life.
Help stop teen substance abuse before it starts by watching and sharing the Emmy-nominated Collision Course – Teen Addiction Epidemic documentary on www.kvie.org
I discovered in my program of recovery that when I keep the focus on where it should be – me, I’m a better mother, parent, wife, daughter, aunt, friend and so on. Before rehabilitation, my thoughts and actions were predicated on how my loved ones were doing. If they were struggling, I struggled to rescue and offer unsolicited advice. Alcohol and drug addiction is a progressive disease. Problems would and did escalate. If they did not listen to my advice, I tried harder and harder – as if this was a hearing problem. In my 12-Step program, I learned about the family disease which helped me understand the only control I had was to make a commitment to change what I was doing. This change would be monumental but only took willingness on my part.
Positive results crystalized in Step 4. Step 4 is about taking a complete moral inventory of me. I was accustomed to taking their inventory and uncomfortable about taking my own. Once I started, I realized how much I had to learn about me. At the same time I was beginning to understand why boundaries were so important. Without boundaries, I was being dragged into the drama – a side effect of drug problems. There was a time I did not know where I ended and they began – it was all inter-meshed. The fear for them was beyond words and my response to it was not always kind or respectful. Understanding me; why I act the way I do, why certain things upset me, why I get fearful and fretful helped me break away from old habits and beliefs. I could begin to employ boundaries that were backed up with sense and reason versus fear and meaningless threats. In the process there was the realization that no one would change because I wanted them to. My inventory helped me realize how I was powerless over IT, but not helpless over myself and my relationships.
It seems that when you have traveled the journey of addiction with your loved one over a period of time, you begin to have a sixth sense when things are beginning to falter. I couldn’t always put my finger on it, but I could tell when something was off. Sometimes it was a lack of contact, sometimes it was a particular attitude while talking, and sometimes it was just a feeling. I remember being in one of those modes where I knew something was unraveling. It was as simple as a mention of some new friends – some in recovery, some not, some struggling in their addiction. While I wanted to coach, persuade, and convince her to hang tight to those in recovery, I knew she would follow her own path. I knew I was powerless over what she decided to do.
While I can speculate the chain of events that can lead to ‘unraveling’, it is futile. And it is always a lesson for me just as much as for her. What could I do to ward off impending doom? How could I convince her to stay focused? When should I actively intervene? The answers were simple; nothing, can’t & shouldn’t. I have one job to do which is to ‘mind my own business.’ It doesn’t mean that if she asks for my advice that I shouldn’t give it – I pray for those opportunities for they give me the false notion that I can control something in her life! But they also give me comfort that she wants to engage in healthy discussions. But alas, she does not always ask for my advice, she lives her life on her terms. And I am constantly learning to be a bystander in order to help her to continue to learn and grow.
Right before my son “graduated” from rehab after a three-month stint, his counselor advised us to create an “agreement” which would guide our relationship in the days ahead. I think of the agreement as an operating manual that specified what we –each of us, and all of us—would or wouldn’t do in the chemical dependency arena. By making our expectations black and white, we eliminated that gray area that had haunted us in the past.
Firm boundaries are so critical to recovery. The disease of addiction is subtle and surreptitious. It fosters not-quite-white lies, small violations that become progressively larger, and, finally huge transgressions. The best way to nip these in the bud in early recovery is to spell out exactly what will work in the family and what won’t fly. (If you need help working on boundaries or expectations, check out our Meetings in a Box.)
Agreements are not “one size fit all.” If your child is a minor, the agreement will take on a different complexion. If you support your child financially, there will be different expectations, such as “We will pay your rent if you return to college full-time.” If your child is independent, perhaps all you can say is “I love you very much, and you are welcome in my life only if you are sober. I support you in recovery.” Perhaps saying that is enough.
Agreements can be difficult to make because they force us to acknowledge that the problem didn’t vanish with rehab….as a chronic and relapsing disease, chemical dependency still lurks in our lives. All the more reason to draw a line in the sand and give our beloved children a compelling reason to resist the siren song of drugs and alcohol. Agreements can give us the peace of mind in knowing that we clearly defined the “rules of engagement.” We make agreements for our children, and for ourselves.
Life experience is interesting. Maya Angelou is quoted as saying “While I know myself as a creation of God, I am also obligated to realize and remember that everyone else and everything else are also God’s creation.” Today, I see things differently – as if I’ve been given new pair of glasses that help me view events from that perspective.
Lately, the news has been on my radar, singling out individuals for ridicule or disdain. Two incidents come to mind. First, the tanorexic mom whose picture and profile was posted in everyone’s view. At first, I thought oh my gosh – what is she thinking? Then I realized, this a person with an addiction who might be better served with love and compassion. Maybe there is help in some form of rehabilitation – she may not want it though, and that’s her choice. Next a police officer was in the spotlight for re-filling and keeping prescription pills from an elderly friend – a police officer no less! I see it as the pervasive nature of the drug epidemic – there is no segregation, and it’s that serious. Police officers are people too and can be victims of the prescription drug epidemic like everyone else, equal opportunity! Why shame and stigma?
I hope I can be the open minded person with empathy and compassion versus the judgmental opinionated person the news media targets. It just feels better! My recovery has helped with this and when I know better I can do better. I am a mere mortal so I have to make a conscious effort to adorn my new glasses every day.
There are times in our lives when everything comes together in a moment that you know that somehow everything you’ve worked hard for was worth it. Today is one of those days. Four years ago a group of mom’s and an interventionist decided that they wanted to make a difference in their community. They wanted to create something that would help parents and teens understand the dangers of substance abuse in an attempt to help the teens make better choices. The goal was to educate parents and teens about the effects of substance use on the developing adolescent brain and how there could come a point in time where the brain could be altered and effected for the rest of their life.
This dream culminated in the creation of the documentary Collision Course – Teen Addiction Epidemic. The documentary was created and aired on PBS in the Sacramento, California region. The goal is to take this national and get as much visibility as possible to help drive the awareness and make a true change with our young people. So many studies show that education and awareness truly drive prevention and drive down the use of substances when teens are armed with the right information. Yesterday it was announced that Collision Course has been nominated for an Emmy Award. The final selection will be on June 9th in San Francisco at the Northern California Emmys. It the film wins the prestige of being selected for the Emmy that would be wonderful, but the true excitement around this honor is to get more visibility of the film in the hopes that it is viewed by many more teens and their parents. It is an exciting moment in this journey that can somehow seem like an uphill battle. For today we will celebrate this moment and the hope for our teens to live a life without addiction!
Having a child struggling with drug or alcohol abuse is a very difficult situation. We're glad you are visiting our site and we hope you find some peace of mind through the support of other parents and services offered by this site. Please keep coming back!
Follow Us!
Follow Us!
spacing
spacing
Seeking Serenity
Seeking Serenity
A child’s addiction opens up an entire new world for families. Addiction is a thief. It breaks into your home in the dark of night and steals your child. It shreds the safe cocoon you lovingly built with years of attention and care. It rips your heart out and spirits away your soul. Addiction is a journey marked by bottomless pools of tears, intense self-discovery and yes, newfound strength. It is a journey where utter isolation can be magically vanquished when you meet a kindred spirit on the road, and you share the secret handshake known only to those whose children are trapped by addiction. That is when the healing can begin.
This blog features the experiences of three mothers whose children struggle with substance abuse. Our hope is that this blog guides you through your child’s struggles with drugs or alcohol, and that you find comfort, support and the knowledge that you are not alone in your journey.
hanged the lives of many other addicts and alcoholics, she noted: “As I, too, looked over the quiet crowd, I wondered how many of those I called Bad Boys and Bad Girls were, in reality, spiritually thirsty and spiritually sick. Perhaps they were the most sensitive, the most easily hurt of all my patients, the most tortured by the human face of knowing we are doing to die. Perhaps the tattooed, prematurely aged, skinny and solemn patients in front of me were the real empaths, and my patient, Mr. Rapman, had something to teach me—that my life was unmanageable, that I might think about getting it up to a higher power, and that the twelve never-ending steps were, like the pilgrimage, for me also to tread. How was I any different from those quiet, attentive people, touched, even transformed, by the life of someone now dead?”
Follow Us!
Follow Us!